Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 34, by EDWARD TAYLOR


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 34, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Suppose this earthy globe a coconut
Last Line: Will stud thy praise with thankfull melody.
Subject(s): Puritans In Literature


Suppose this Earthy globe a Cocoe Nut
Whose Shell most bright, and hard out challenge should
The richest Carbunckle in gold ring put
How rich would proove the kirnell it should hold?
But be it so, who then could breake this Shell,
To pick the kirnell, walld within this Cell?

Should I, my Lord, call thee this nut, I should
Debase thy Worth, and of thee basely stut.
Thou dost its worth as far excell as would
Make it to thine worse than a worm eat nut.
Were all the World a sparkling pearle, 't would bee
Worse than a dot of Dung if weighd with thee.

What Elemented bit was that, thine eyes
Before the Elements were moulded, ey'd?
And it Encabbineting Jewell wise
Up in thy person, be'st nigh Deified?
It lay as pearle in dust in this wide world,
But thou it tookst, and in thy person firld.

To finde a Pearle in Oister Shells's not strange:
For in such rugged bulwarks such abound.
But this Rich Gem in Humane Natures grange
So bright could by none Eye but thine be found.
Its mankind flowr'd, searst, kneaded up in Love
To Manna in Gods moulding trough above.

This bit of Humane Flesh Divinizd in
The Person of the Son of God; the Cell
Of Soule, and Blood, where Love Divine doth swim
Through veans, through Arteries, Heart flesh, and fell,
Doth with its Circkling Arms about entwinde
A Portion of its kindred choice, Mankinde.

But these defild by Sin, Justice doth stave
Off from the bliss Love them prepar'de, untill
She's satisfide, and sentence too she gave
That thou should feel her vengeance and her will.
Hence Love steps in, turns by the Conduit Cock:
Her Veans full payment on the Counter drop.

Now Justice satisfi'de, Loves Milke white hand
Them takes and brings unto her Ewer of blood
Doth make Free Grace her golden Wisp, and Sand
With which she doth therein them Wash scoure, rub
And Wrince them cleane untill their Beauty shows
More pure, and white, than Lilly, Swan, or Rose.

What love, my Lord, dost thou lay out on thine
When to the Court of Justice cald they're judg'd.
Thou with thy Blood and Life dost pay their fine
Thy Life, for theirs, thy Blood for theirs must budge.
Their Sin, Guilt, Curse upon thyselfe dost lay:
Thy Grace, thy Justice, Life on them Convay.

Make such a Change, my Lord, with mee, I pray.
I'le give thee then, my Heart, and Life to th'bargen.
Thy golden Scepter then my Soule shall sway
Along my Path unto thy Palace garden.
Wash off my filth, with thy rich blood, and I
Will stud thy praise with thankfull melody.





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