Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 105, by EDWARD TAYLOR Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: If I was all well melted down, refinde Last Line: To glory, then I'l sing a brighter song. Subject(s): Puritans In Literature | ||||||||
If I was all well melted down, refinde In graces Furnace and run in the mould Of bright bright Glory, that with Glory shinde More bright than glory doth, my Lord I would Crown thee therewith thou shouldst have all, except The dross I in refining did eject. Hast thou unto thy Godhead nature tooke My nature and unto that nature joyn'de Making a Union thereby, whose root Too deep's for reasons delving toole to finde, Which is held out thus by thy Taking Bread, In this sweet Feast in which our Souls are fed? This Union, that it is, were clearely see But se not How, or What it is; although We stande and gaze on't, at't amazed bee. But Why it is Grace graciously doth show. These natures thus United have (as't shown) Each done by each, what neither could alone. The Reason of it Grace declares, whose hand This Union made; its made (and thinke hereon) That so our Nature Cansell might that Bande. She'd forfeited, and Justice sude upon. For natures Purse could not the Fine defray. Hence she had Gold from Godheads Mint to pay. This Mystery more rich than massy gold Our Lord lapt up in a Choice napkin fine Of Heavenly trade an Ordinance that hold The same out doth to us all sweet, Divine, That this might live, he in his Dying night Portraide it on his Supper last, as light. To shew that he our nature took, he then Tooke breade, and wine best Elementall trade, Designed as the Sign thereof. Which when He had his blessing over it display'de To shew his Consecration, then it brake, To signify his Sufferings for our sake. Hence in this Bread, and Wine thou dost present Thyselfe, my Lord, Celestiall Food indeed, Rich spirituall fare Soul-Food, Faiths nourishment, And such as doth all Saving Graces feed. For which an Heavenfull of thanks, all free, Is not too much my Lord to render thee. Yet my poore Pipe can hardly stut a tune Above an hungry thanks unto thy name For all this grace, My Lord, My heart perfume With greater measures, till thy Grace out flame And leade mee on in Graces path along To Glory, then I'l sing a brighter song. | 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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