Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 92, by EDWARD TAYLOR


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 92, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: It grieves mee, lord, my fancy's rusty
Last Line: In glories dress to meet thee in the skies.
Subject(s): Puritans In Literature


It grieves mee, Lord, my Fancy's rusty: rub
And brighten't on an Angells Rubston sharp.
Furbish it with thy Spirits File: and dub
It with a live Coale of thine Altars Spark.
Yea, with thy holly Oyle make thou it slick
Till like a Flash of Lightning, it grow Quick.

My Heart may ake to finde so bright a Theme
Which brighten might even Angels wits, to bee,
By my thick, Rusty Fancy and dull Veane
Barbd of its brightsom sparkling Shine by mee.
Quicken my Fancy Lord; and mend my Pen:
To Flowerish up the same, as brightest Gem.

What is thy Humane Coach thy Soule rides in,
Bathing in Bright, Heart ravishing glory all
In Gods Celestiall splendent Palace trim,
Full of it's Fulgient Glory of that hall?
And wilt thou from this glorious Palace come
Again to us on earth, where Sinners throng?

Methinks I see, when thou appearest thus,
The Clouds to rend, and Skies their Crystall Doore
Open like thunder for thy pass to us
And thy Bright Body deckt with Shine all Ore
Flash through the Same like rapid Lightening Waver
That gilds the Clouds, and makes the Heavens Quaver.

Proud Sinners now that ore Gods Children crow
Would if they could creep into Augur holes,
Thy Lightening Flashing in their faces so,
Melts down their Courage, terrifies their Souls.
Thy Rapid Lightning Flashes pierce like darts
Of Red hot fiery arrows through their hearts.

Now Glory to the Righteous is the Song.
Their dusty Frame drops off its drossiness
Puts on bright robes, doth jump for joy, doth run
To meet thee in the Clouds in lightning Dress.
Whose nimble Flashes dancing on each thing
While Angells trumpet-musick makes them sing.

Make Sanctifying Grace, my tapestry,
My person make thy Lookinglass Lord, clear
And in my Looking Glass cast thou thine Eye.
Thy Image view that standeth shining there.
Then as thou com'st like Light'ning, I shall rise
In Glories Dress to meet thee in the Skies.





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