Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 31, by EDWARD TAYLOR Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Its said h ************* doth enjoy Last Line: With praise * * * * * * * * * tun'de on my bell. Subject(s): Puritans In Literature | ||||||||
Its said H * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * doth enjoy A Tree of Gold whose Root is deemd t'have birth At Centre of the Earth whose Spirits fly Ore all its body blossoming on the earth. Leaves dance and Fruits grow on its twigs and limbs. That make a golden Smile on Spanish Kings. Yet this rich vegitable tree of Gold Is but a Toade Stoole bowre compar'd to thee My blessed Lord, whose tent of Humane mould Shines like Gods Paradise, Where springs the tree Of Pure, Pure Love that doth thy friends enfold In richer Robes than all those Leaves of gold. Thy Love-Affection, rooted in the Soyle, Of Humane Nature, springing up all ore With Sanctifying Grace, of brightest file Brings Loads of Love to sinfull man all gore. Here is greate Love, greaten'd by influences To which thy Godhead to the same dispenses. No Spirits ever yet were founde within The golden Tree of Humane nature, bud, Or blossom such a Love, or Lovely thing As this thy nature doth so greate so good. The Plant's set in a Soile Pure, faultless, stronge, Its fruite sores to the highst pitch, Good, Greate, and Longe. There is no Sin can touch this Lovely Love. Its Holy, with a perfect Holiness. Its grown unto the highst Degree, above All Stuntedness, or stately Stintedness. The Soile is faultless, and doth give its Strength. The Plant doth beare its fruite of largest length. This Love in thee most pure, and perfect stands A Relative, and hath its object here Which it befriends with all good things, and hands In holy wayes to heavenly Glory cleare. Oh! happy such as with it are befriended: With perfect Love, to perfect bliss they're tended. Make me thy Friend: Befriend me with thy Love. Here's cloaths more rich than Silk or Cloth of gold. I'le in the Circuite of thy Friendship moove So thy Warm Love enspire mine Organs would. My Garden will give sweet, and Lovely Flowers If thou distill thereon thy Love in Showres. Lord, let thy Sunshine-Love my Dial grace. Then what a Clock it is, it will display. The glory of the Sunshine on it's Face Will take the light and tell the time of Day. My Hammer then shall greet this Shine as well With praise * * * * * * * * * tun'de on my bell. | 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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