Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 38, by EDWARD TAYLOR

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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 38, by                 Poet's Biography
First Line: Oh! What a thing is man? Lord, who am I?
Last Line: I'le waggon loads of love, and glory bring.
Variant Title(s): An Advocate With The Father
Subject(s): Puritans In Literature

Oh! What a thing is Man? Lord, Who am I?
That thou shouldst give him Law (Oh! golden Line)
To regulate his Thoughts, Words, Life thereby.
And judge him Wilt thereby too in thy time.
A Court of Justice thou in heaven holdst
To try his Case while he's here housd on mould.

How do thy Angells lay before thine eye
My Deeds both White, and Black I dayly doe?
How doth thy Court thou Pannellst there them try?
But flesh complains. What right for this? let's know.
For right, or wrong I can't appeare unto't.
And shall a sentence Pass on such a suite?

Soft; blemish not this golden Bench, or place.
Here is no Bribe, nor Colourings to hide
Nor Pettifogger to befog the Case
But Justice hath her Glory here well tri'de.
Her spotless Law all spotted Cases tends.
Without Respect or Disrespect them ends.

God's Judge himselfe: and Christ Atturny is,
The Holy Ghost Regesterer is founde.
Angells the sergeants are, all Creatures kiss
The booke, and doe as Evidences abounde.
All Cases pass according to pure Law
And in the sentence is no Fret, nor flaw.

What saist, my soule? Here all thy Deeds are tri'de.
Is Christ thy Advocate to pleade thy Cause?
Art thou his Client? Such shall never slide.
He never lost his Case: he pleads such Laws
As Carry do the same, nor doth refuse
The Vilest sinners Case that doth him Choose.

This is his Honour, not Dishonour: nay
No Habeas-Corpus gainst his Clients came
For all their Fines his Purse doth make down pay.
He Non-Suites Satan's Suite or Casts the Same.
He'l plead thy Case, and not accept a Fee.
He'l plead Sub Forma Pauperis for thee.

My Case is bad. Lord, be my Advocate.
My sin is red: I'me under Gods Arrest.
Thou hast the Hint of Pleading; plead my State.
Although it's bad thy Plea will make it best.
If thou wilt plead my Case before the King:
I'le Waggon Loads of Love, and Glory bring.

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