Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PREPAPATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 36, by EDWARD TAYLOR



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PREPAPATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 36, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: What rocky heart is mine? My pincky eyes
Last Line: And present things with things to come are mine.
Subject(s): Puritans In Literature


What rocky heart is mine? My pincky Eyes
Thy Grace spy blancht, Lord, in immensitie.
But finde the Sight me not to meliorize,
O Stupid Heart! What strang-strange thing am I?
I many months do drown in Sorrows Spring
But hardly raise a Sigh to blow down Sin.

To find thee Lord, thus overflowing kinde,
And t'finde mee thine, thus overflowing vile,
A Riddle seems onrivetted I finde.
This reason saith is hard to reconcile.
Dost Vileness choose? Or can't thy kindness shown
Me meliorate? Or am I not thine own?

The first two run thy glory would to Shame:
The last plea doth my Soule to hell Confine.
My Faith therefore doth all these Pleas disdain.
Thou kindness art, it saith, and I am thine.
Upon this banck it doth on tiptoes stand
To ken o're Reasons head at Graces hand.

But Did I say, I wonder, Lord, to spie
Thy Selfe so kind; and I so vile yet thine?
I eate my Word: and wonder more that I
No viler am, though all ore vile do shine.
As full of Sin I am, as Egge of meate.
Yet finde thy golden Rod my Sin to treate.

Nay did I say, I wonder t'see thy Store
Of kindnesses, yet me thus vile with all?
I now Unsay my Say: I wonder more
Thou dash me not to pieces with thy maule,
But in the bed, Lord, of thy goodness lies
The Reason of't, which makes my Wonders rise.

For now I wonder t'feele how I thus feele.
My Love leapes into Creatures bosoms; and
Cold Sorrows fall into my Soule as Steel,
When faile they, yet I kiss thy Love's White hand.
I scarce know what t'make of myselfe. Wherefore
I crave a Pardon, Lord, for thou hast Store.

How wondrous rich art thou? Thy Storehouse vast
Holdes more ten thousand fold told ore and ore
Than this Wide World Can hold. The doore unhasp.
And bring me thence a Pardon out therefore.
Thou Stoughst the World so tite with present things
That things to Come, though crowd full hard, cant in.

These things to Come, tread on the heels of those.
The presents breadth doth with the broad world run.
The Depth and breadth of things to come out goes
Unto Times End which bloweth out the Sun.
These breadth and length meate out Eternity.
These are the things that in thy Storehouse ly.

A Cockle Shell contains this World as well
As can this World thy Liberallness contain.
And by thy Will these present things all fell
Unto thy Children for their present gain;
And things to Come too, to Eternity.
Thou Willedst them: they're theirs by Legacy.

But am I thine? Oh! what strange thing's in mee?
Enricht thus by thy Legacy? yet finde
When one small Twig's broke off, the breach should bee
Such an Enfeebling thing upon my minde.
Then take a pardon from thy Store, and twist
It in my Soule for help. 'Twill not be mist.

I am asham'd to say I love thee do.
But dare not for my Life, and Soule deny't.
Yet wonder much Love's Springs should lie so low
Thy loveliness its Object shines so bright.
Shall all the Beams of Love upon me shine?
And shall my Love Love's Object still make pine?

I'me surely made a Gazing Stock to all.
The Holy Angells Wonder: and the Mock
Of Divells (pining that they misse it all)
To see these beams gild me a Stupid Stock.
Thy Argument is good, Lord point it, come
Let't lance my heart, till True Loves Veane doth run.

But that there is a Crevice for one hope
To creep in, and this Message to Convay
That I am thine, makes me refresh. Lord ope
The Doore so wide that Love may Scip, and play.
My Spirits then shall dance thy Praise. I'me thine.
And Present things with things to come are mine.





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