Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, GOD'S DETERMINATIONS: THE SOULS DOUBTS TOUCHING ITS SINS ANSWERED, by EDWARD TAYLOR


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

GOD'S DETERMINATIONS: THE SOULS DOUBTS TOUCHING ITS SINS ANSWERED, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Is this thy case, poor soul, come then begin
Last Line: He seeks by helping thee thy overthrow.
Subject(s): Puritans In Literature


SAINT

Is this thy Case, Poor Soul, Come then begin:
Make known thy griefe: anatomize thy sin.
Although thy sins as Mountains vast do show,
Yet Grace's fountain doth these mountains flow.

SOUL

True, true indeed, where Mountains sinke but where
They swim, their Heads above these mountains peare.
Mine swim in Mercies boundless Ocean do:
Therefore their Heads above these waters goe.

SAINT

I thought as you, but loe the Lyon hee
Is not so fierce as he is feign'd to bee.
But grant they swim, they'l then swim quite away
On Mercies main, if you Repenting stay.

SOUL

I swim in Mercy: but my sins are sayles
That waft my barke to Hell by Graces Gales.
Is't possible for such as Grace outbrave
(Which is my Case) true Saving Grace to have?

SAINT

That's not thy Sin: thou didst not thus transgress,
Thy Grace-outbraveing sin is bashfulness.
Thou art too backward. Satan strives to hold
Thee fast hereby, and saith, thou art too bold.

SOUL

Alas! How are you out in mee, behold
My best is poison in a Box of Gold.
If with mine Eyes you saw my hearts black stain,
You'de judge my Sins were double dide in grain.

SAINT

Deluded Soul, Satan beguiles thee so
Thou judgst the bend the back side of the bow
Dost press thyselfe too hard: Straite Wands appeare
Crook't in, and out, in running rivlets Clear.

SOUL

You raise the fabrick of your pious hope
Upon such water Bells, as rots denote.
For my Profession doth but cloake my sin.
A guilded Maukin's stufft with Chaff within.

SAINT

I love not thus to row in such a Stream:
And if I did, I should so touch my Theme.
But muster up your Sins, though more or few:
Grace hath an Edge to Cut their bonds atwo.

SOUL

This is my Sin, My Sin I love, but hate
God and his Grace. And who's in such a state?
My Love, and Hatred do according rise
Unto Sins height, and unto Grace's sise.

SAINT

I thought as you when first to make me see
God powred out his Spirit sweet on mee.
But oh strange Fetch! What Love, yet hate to have?
And hate in heart what heartily you Crave?

SOUL

Sometimes meethinks I wish. Oh! that there were
No Heaven nor Hell. For then I need not feare.
I'm pestred with black thoughts of Blasphemy,
And after thoughts do with these thoughts Comply.

SAINT

See Satans Wiles: while thou in sin didst dwell
Thou Calledst not in Question Heaven, or Hell.
But now thou'rt out with sin he makes thee Call
In Question both, that thou in Hell mightst fall.

SOUL

But, oh! methinks, I finde I sometimes wish
There was no God, or that there was not this.
Or that his wayes were other than they bee.
Oh! Horrid, horrid, Hellish thoughts in mee!

SAINT

'Twas thus, or worse with me. I often thought,
Oh! that there was no God: or God was Naught.
Or that his Wayes were other Wayes. Yet hee
In mighty mercy hath bemerci'de mee.

SOUL

My Heart is full of thoughts, and ev'ry thought
Full of Sad, Hellish, Drugstery enwrought.
Methinks it strange to Faith that God should bee
Thus All in All, yet all in Each part. See.

SAINT

'Twas so with me. Then let your Faith abound
For Faith will stand where Reason hath no ground.
This proves that God is Onely God: for hee
Surpasseth the superlative degree.

SOUL

Methinks I am a Frigot fully fraught,
And stoughed full with each Ath'istick thought.
Methinks I hate to think on God: anone
Methinks there is no God to thinke upon.

SAINT

I thought as much at first: my thoughts, so vain,
Were thus that God was but stampt i'th'brain.
But God disperst these Wicked thoughts. Behold
The Various methods of the serpent old!

SOUL

All arguments against mee argue still:
I see not one bespeaks me ought, but ill.
Whatse're I use I do abuse: Oh! shew,
Whether the Case was ever thus with you.

SAINT

It was: But see how Satan acts, for his
He troubles not with such a thought as this.
But Wicked thoughts he in the Saints doth fling,
And saith they're theirs, accusing them of Sin.

SOUL

Methinks my heart is harder than a flint,
My Will is Wilfull, frowardness is in't,
And mine Affections do my Soule betray,
Sedaning of it from the blessed way.

SAINT

Loe, Satan hath thy thoughts inchanted quite,
And Carries them a pickpack from the right.
Thou art too Credulous: For Satan lies.
It is not as you deem: deem otherwise.

SOUL

But I allow of sin: I like it Well,
And Chiefly grieve, because it goes to hell.
And Were it ever so with you, I see
Grace hath prevented you which doth not mee.

SAINT

I thought as you: but now I clearly spy,
These Satans brats will like their Curst Sire ly.
He squibd these thoughts in you, you know not how.
And tempts you then to deem you them allow.

SOUL

And so I do: would I could Sins disown:
But if I do, thy'l own me for their own.
I have no Grace to do't: this prooves me in
A Lamentable State, a State of Sin.

SAINT

What ambling work within a Ring is here?
What Circular Disputes of Satans Geer?
To proove thee Graceless he thy sins persues:
To proove thee sinfull, doth thy Grace accuse.
Why dost thou then believe the Tempter so?
He seeks by helping thee thy Overthrow.





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