Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 81, by EDWARD TAYLOR


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 81, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: I fain would praise thee, lord, but often finde
Last Line: Say grace to thee with songs of holy skill.
Subject(s): Puritans In Literature


I fain would praise thee, Lord, but often finde
Some toy or trinket slipping in between
My heart and thee, that whiffles hence my minde
From this I know not how, and oft unseen.
That such should interpose between my Soule
And thee, is matter for mee to Condole.

I finde thou art the Spring of Life, and Life
Is up Empon'd in thee, that's Life indeed.
Thou art Lifes Fountain and its Food. The Strife
Of Living things doth for Life Sake proceed.
But he that with the best of Lifes is spic'te
Doth eate, and drinke the Flesh, and blood of Christ.

What feed on Humane Flesh and Blood? Strang mess!
Nature exclaims. What Barbarousness is here?
And Lines Divine this sort of Food repress.
Christs Flesh and Blood how can they bee good Cheer?
If shread to atoms, would too few be known,
For ev'ry mouth to have a single one?

This Sense of this blesst Phrase is nonsense thus.
Some other Sense makes this a metaphor.
This feeding signifies, that Faith in us
Feeds on this fare, Disht in this Pottinger.
Faith feeds upon this Heavenly Manna rare
And drinkes this Blood. Sweet junkets: Angells Fare.

Christs works, as Divine Cookery, knead in
The Pasty Past, (his Flesh and Blood) most fine
Into Rich Fare, made with the rowling pin
His Deity did use. (Obedience prime)
Active, and Passive is the Food that all
That have this Life feed on within thy Hall.

Here's Meate, and Drinke for Souls to use: (Good Cheer,)
Cookt up, and Brewd by Pure Divinity
The juyce tund up in Humane Casks that ne'er
Were musty made by any Sluttery.
And tapt by Graces hand whose table hold
This fare in Dishes far more rich than Gold.

Thou, Lord, Envit'st me thus to eat thy Flesh,
And drinke thy blood more Spiritfull than wine.
And if I feed not here on this rich mess,
I have no life in mee: no life Divine.
The Spirituall Life, the Life of God, and Grace
Eternall Life, obtain in me no place.

The Naturall Life the Life of Reason too
Are but as painten Cloths to that I lack
The Spirituall Life, and Life Eternall View.
If none of mine, my Glorys face grows black.
And how should I upon this food ere feed,
If thou give unto me no vitall Seed?

Those Fruits (the Works) that gloriously do shine
Upon thy Humane Nature Flesh and Blood
From thy Divine, are th'Purchase price, and th'Fine
Set on our heads, and made our Spirituall Food.
Faith thats the feeding on these pleasant flowers,
Incorporates thy Flesh and Blood with ours.

Thy Flesh, and Blood and Office Fruites shall bee
My Souls Plumb Cake it eates, as naturally,
In Spirituall wise mixt with my soul, as wee
Finde food doth with the body properly.
So that my life shall be mentain'd and thrive
Eternally when Spiritually alive.

Oh! feed mee, Lord, on thy rich Florendine.
Made of the Fruites which thy Divinity
As Principall did beare, (more sweet than wine)
Upon thy Manhood, meritoriously.
If I be fed with this rich fare, I will
Say Grace to thee with Songs of holy Skill.





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