Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 48, by EDWARD TAYLOR



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 48, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: O! What a thing is might right mannag'd? 'twill
Last Line: Of pearls to grace the tune my mite doth sing.
Subject(s): Puritans In Literature


O! What a thing is Might right mannag'd? 'Twill
That Proverb brain, whose face doth were this paint.
(Might ore goe's Right) for might doth Right fulfill
Will Right revive when wrong makes Right to faint.
Might hatches Right: Right hatches Might, they are
Each Dam, and Chick, to each: a Lovely paire.

Then Might well mannag'd riseth mighty: yet
Doth never rise up to Almightiness.
Almightiness nere's in a mortall bit.
But, Lord, thou dost Almightiness possess.
Might in it's fulness: all mights Fulness bee
Of ery Sort and Sise stow'd up in thee.

But what am I, poor Mite, all mightless thing!
That cannot rive a rush, that I should e're
Adventure t'dress Almighty up, or bring
Almightiness deckt in its mighty geere?
Then spare my Stutting Stamring, inky Quill,
If it its bowells on thy Power distill.

My Mite (if I such Solicisms might
But use) would spend its mitie Strength for thee
Of Mightless might, of feeble stronge delight.
Its little ALL thy Sacrifice showld bee.
For thee't would mock at all the Might and Power
That Earth, and Hell possess: and on thee shower.

A Fig for Foes, for Divells, Hell, and all
The powres of darkness, thou now on my Side
Their Might's a little mite, Powers powerless fall.
My Mite Almighty will not let down slide.
I will not trust unto this Might of mine:
Nor in my Mite distrust, while I am thine.

Thy Love Almighty is, to Love mee deare,
Thy Grace Almighty mee to save: thy Truth
Almighty to depend on. Justice cleare
Almighty t'justify, and judge. Grace shewth.
Thy Wisdom too's Almighty all to eye,
And Holiness is such to sanctify.

If thy Almightiness, and all my Mite
United be in sacred Marriage knot,
My Mite is thine: Mine thine Almighty Might.
Then thine Almightiness my Mite hath got.
My Quill makes thine Almightiness a String
Of Pearls to grace the tune my Mite doth sing.





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