Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 163, by EDWARD TAYLOR



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PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 163, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Sweet lord, all sweet from top to bottom all
Last Line: Was and to mee is now sweet to my tast.
Subject(s): Puritans In Literature


Sweet Lord, all sweet from top to bottom all
From Heart to hide, sweet, mostly sweet.
Sweet Manhood and sweet Godhead and ere shall.
Thou art the best of Sweeting. And so keep.
Thou art made up of best of sweetness brast.
Thy Fruit is ever sweet unto my tast.

Thou art my sweetest one, my Onely sweet.
From kirnel to the rinde, all sweet to mee.
Thy bitterness is sweet: no choaking reech
Nor damping Steams arise to damp from thee
The Sacred Spices. Muske * * * * * * them
Are unto thee, sweet, like to faded gum.

Thou unto mee art onely sweet all sweet
Sweet in the Virgin wombe and horses Manger.
Sweet in thy swath band and thy Childhood meete
Yea, sweet to all, to neighbour and to Stranger.
Sweet in thy Life and Conversation, friends.
Thy Sweetness dropest from thy fingers Ends.

My Lord, my Love, my Lilly, my Rose and Crown
My brightest Glory, and my Hony sweet
My Happiness, my Riches, my Renown.
My Shade for Comfort, in thee good things meet.
Not one thing in thee that admits of Spot
All Heavens Scutchen, and a bright Love knot.

Heavens Carnation with most sweet perfume,
Pinkes, Roses, Violets that perfume the Aire
Inchant the Eyes and fancy in their bloome
Entoxicate the Fancy with their Ware
That fuddled, turne and reele and tumble down
From holly sweet to Earthly damps like Clowns.

It gathers not the Lillys nor doth Picke
This double sweet rose in Zions Rose tree breede
Nor climbs this Apple tree, nor doth it sit
At all in'ts Shade, nor on its Apple feed.
Its lost within the fog and goes astray
Like to a fuddled person out of's way.

But Oh! my Lord, how sweet art thou to mee
In all thy Mediatoriall actions sweet
Most sweet in thy Redemtion all way free
Thy Righteousness, thy holiness most meeke.
In Reconciliation made for mee
With God offended in the highst degree.

A Cabbinet of Holiness, Civit box
Of Heavenly Aromatick, still much more,
A treasury of Spicery, rich knots,
Of Choicest Merigolds, a house of Store
Of never failing dainties to my tast
Delighting holy Palates, such thou hast.

A sugar Mill, an Hony Hive most rich
Of all Celestial viands, golden box
Top full of Saving Grace, a Mint house which
Is full of Angells, and a cloud that drops
Down better fare than ever Artist could,
More pleasant than the finest liquid Gold.

Then glut me Lord, ev'n on this dainty fare,
Here is not Surfeit; look upon this dish:
All is too little to suffice, this fare
Can surfeit none that eatest; none eate amiss,
Unless they eat too little. So disgrace
The preparation of the banquit place.

While I sat longing in this Shadow here
To tast the fruite this Apple tree all ripe
How sweet these Sweetings bee. Oh! sweet good Cheere
How am I filld with sweet most sweet delight.
The fruite, while I was in its shady place
Was and to mee is now sweet to my tast.





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