Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 42, by EDWARD TAYLOR Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: I fain would prize thee, lord, but finde the price Last Line: If thou wilt tune it to thy praise in mee. Subject(s): Puritans In Literature | ||||||||
I fain would prize thee, Lord, but finde the price Of Earthy things to rise so high in mee That I no pretious matter in my choice Can finde within my heart to offer thee. The price of worldly toyes is grown so deare, They pick my purse. Thy Gaine is little there. But oh! if thou one Sparke of heavenly fire Wilt but drop on my hearth; its holy flame Will burn my trash up. And refin'de desire Will rise to thee in th'Curlings of the same, As Pillars of Perfumeing incense rise, And Surges bright of Glory, 'bove the Skies. Oh! that my Soul was Walled round about With Orient Pearle fetcht out of holy Mine And made a Castle, where thy Graces stoute Keep garison against my foes and thine. Then they each peeping thought sent Scout of Sin Would quickly take, and gibbit up therein. But oh! the Swarms of enemies to thee (Bold Sawceboxes) make in these quarters spoile, Make insurrection 'gainst the motions free Of thy good Spirit: Lord, come, scoure the Ile Of these and quarter here each flourishing grace. The Whole will then be in a Wealthy Case. Thou for this end, a Body hadst preparde, Where Sin ne'er set a foot, nor shewd its head But ev'ry grace was in it, and Well far'de. Whose fruite, Lord, let into my heart be shed. Then grace shall grace my Soule, my Soule shall thee Begrace, and shall thy gracefull Palace bee. Thy Body is a Building all like mine, In Matter, Form, in Essence, Properties. Yet Sin ne'er toucht it, Grace ne'er ceast in't'shine. It, though not Godded, next to th'Godhead lies. This honour have I, more than th'Angells bright. Thy Person, and my Nature do Unite. Oh! Thanks, my Lord, accept this dusty thing: If I had better, thou should better have. I blush, because I can no better bring: The best I do possess, I for thee save. Wash in thy blood, my gift till white it bee: And made acceptable to God by thee. In humble wise I thee implore to make Me, what thou, and thy Father ever love. Empt me of Sin: Fill mee with Grace: and take Up while I'me here, my heart to thee above. My Soule shall sing Thanksgiving unto thee, If thou wilt tune it to thy praise in mee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOD'S DETERMINATIONS: THE JOY OF CHURCH FELLOWSHIP RIGHTLY ATTENDED by EDWARD TAYLOR GOD'S DETERMINATIONS: THE PREFACE by EDWARD TAYLOR PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 1 by EDWARD TAYLOR PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 32 by EDWARD TAYLOR PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 38 by EDWARD TAYLOR PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 8 by EDWARD TAYLOR PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 3 by EDWARD TAYLOR PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 56 by EDWARD TAYLOR GOD'S DETERMINATIONS: CHRIST'S REPLY by EDWARD TAYLOR GOD'S DETERMINATIONS: THE JOY OF CHURCH FELLOWSHIP RIGHTLY ATTENDED by EDWARD TAYLOR |
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