Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 60 (A), by EDWARD TAYLOR Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Count me not liquorish if my soule do pine Last Line: Sing forth thy glory with bright angells all. Subject(s): Puritans In Literature | ||||||||
Count me not liquorish if my Soule do pine And long for Angells bread of Heavens wheate Ground in thy Quorns, Searcde in the Laws Lawn fine And bakt in Heavens backhouse for our meate. Ist die of Famine, Lord, My Stomach's weak. And if I live, Manna must be my meate. I'm sick; my sickness is mortality And Sin both Complicate (the worst of all). No cure is found under the Chrystall Sky Save Manna, that from heaven down doth fall. My Queasy Stomach this alone doth Crave. Nought but a bit of manna can mee save. This Bread came down from heaven in a Dew In which it bedded was, untill the Sun Remoov'd its Cover lid: and did it shew Disht dayly food, while fourty years do run. For Isra'ls Camp to feast upon their fill Thy Emblem, Lord, in print by perfect Skill. Thou in thy word as in a bed of Dewes Like Manna on thy Camp dost fall and light Hid Manna, till the Sun Shine bright remooves The Rug, and doth display its beauty bright Like pearly Bdellium White and Cleare to set The Sight, and Appetite the same to get. This is a Shining Glass, wherein thy face My Lord, as Bread of Life, is clearly seen. The Bread of Life, and Life of lively Grace Of such as live upon't do flowrish Green. That makes their lives that on it live ascend In heav'nly rayes to heaven that have none end. Refresh my Sight, Lord, with thy Manna's eye. Delight my tast with this sweet Honied Cake. Enrich my Stomach with this Cake bread high. And with this Angells bread me recreate. Lord, make my Soule thy Manna's Golden Pot Within thine Arke: and never more forgot. Here's food for ery day, and th'Seventh too: (Though't never fell upon the Seventh day But on the first, and ery week day new) And now is on the Camp shour'd ery way. Yet where it is not rightly usd it turns To nauseous sent, and doth occasion worms. It's first daye's Mess Disht up in Heavenly Dew. Lord feede mee all wayes with't: it will enable Mee much to live up to thy praise anew. Angells delight, attending on this table. If on this Angell fare I'm fed, I shall Sing forth thy glory with bright Angells all. | 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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