Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, GOD'S DETERMINATIONS: FIRST SATAN'S ASSAULT ..., by EDWARD TAYLOR


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

GOD'S DETERMINATIONS: FIRST SATAN'S ASSAULT ..., by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Soon ripe, soon rot. Young saint, old divell. Loe
Last Line: Believe your very eyes, believe not mee.
Subject(s): Puritans In Literature


SATAN

Soon ripe, soon rot. Young Saint, Old Divell. Loe
Why to an Empty Whistle did you goe?
What Come Uncalld? And Run unsent for? Stay
Its Childrens Bread: Hands off: out, Dogs, away.

SOUL

It's not an Empty Whistle: yet withall,
And if it be a Whistle, then a Call:
A Call to Childrens Bread, which take we may.
Thou onely art the Dog whipt hence away.

SATAN

If I then you: for by Apostasy
You are the Imps of Death as much as I.
And Death doth reign o're you through Sin: you see,
As well as Sin doth reign to Death in mee.

SOUL

It is deni'd: Gods Mercy taking place,
Prepared Grace for us, and us for Grace.
And Graces Coach in Grace hath fetcht us in,
Unto her Feast. We shall not dy in Sin.

SATAN

If it be so, your sins are Crucifide:
Which if they be, they struggl'd when they di'de.
It is not so with you: you judge before
You felt them gird, you'de got them out of Doore.

SOUL

Mercy the Quartermaster speedily,
Did stifle Sin, and still its hidious Cry,
Whose Knife at first stuck in its heart to th'head:
That sin, before it hard did sprunt, fell dead.

SATAN

A mere Delusion! Nature shows that Life
Will strugle most upon the bloody Knife
And so will Sin. Nay Christ doth onely Call,
And offer ease to such as are in thrall.

SOUL

He offer'd unto mee, and I receiv'd
Of what hee wrought, I am not yet bereav'd.
Though Justice set Amercement on mee
Mercy hath took it off, and set me free.

SATAN

Is Mercy impudent? or Justice blinde?
I am to make distraint on thee Designd.
The North must wake before the South proves Kind.
The Law must breake before the Gospell binde.

SOUL

But Giliads Balm, like Balsom heald my wound
Makes not the Patient sore, yet leaves him sound.
The Gospell did the Law prevent: my heart
Is therefore dresst from Sin: and did not smart.

SATAN

A likely thing! Oh shame! presume on Grace!
Here's Sin in Grain: it hath a Double Face.
Come, Come with mee I'le shew your Outs, and Inns,
Your Inside, and your out: your Holy things.
For these I will anatomize then see,
Believe your very Eyes, believe not mee.





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