The Poems of Edward Taylor Edited by Donald E. Standford ... With a foreword by Louis L. Martz |
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47. | 47. Meditation. Joh. 5.26. The Son hath life in himselfe. |
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The Poems of Edward Taylor | ||
47. Meditation. Joh. 5.26. The Son hath life in himselfe.
12.5m [July] 1702.
Noe mervaile if my mite amaized bee
Musing upon Almighties Mighty ALL
In all its Fulness socketed in thee
As furniture, my Lord, to grace thy Hall.
Thy Work requires that so the Case should goe.
But oh! what Grace doth hence to Sinners flow?
Musing upon Almighties Mighty ALL
In all its Fulness socketed in thee
As furniture, my Lord, to grace thy Hall.
Thy Work requires that so the Case should goe.
But oh! what Grace doth hence to Sinners flow?
I strike mine oare not in the golden Sea
Of Godhead Fulness, thine essentially.
But in the Silver Ocean make my way
Of All Created Fulness, thine Most high.
Thy Humane Glass, God wondrously did build:
And Grace oreflowing, with All fulness Filld.
Of Godhead Fulness, thine essentially.
But in the Silver Ocean make my way
Of All Created Fulness, thine Most high.
Thy Humane Glass, God wondrously did build:
And Grace oreflowing, with All fulness Filld.
Thou dost all Fulness of all Life possess.
Thy Life all varnisht is with virdent flowers
'Bove Sense and Reason in their brightest dress.
Lifes best top gallant ever in thee towers.
The Life of Grace that Life of Life within
Thy knot in heavenly Sparks is flourishing.
Thy Life all varnisht is with virdent flowers
'Bove Sense and Reason in their brightest dress.
Lifes best top gallant ever in thee towers.
The Life of Grace that Life of Life within
Thy knot in heavenly Sparks is flourishing.
167
Besides thy proper Lifes tall fulness-Wealth,
There's Life in thee, like golden Spirits, stills,
To ery member of thy Mystick Selfe,
Through secret Chases into th'vitall tills
Or like the Light embodi'd in the Sun
That to each living thing with life doth run.
There's Life in thee, like golden Spirits, stills,
To ery member of thy Mystick Selfe,
Through secret Chases into th'vitall tills
Or like the Light embodi'd in the Sun
That to each living thing with life doth run.
A Well of Living Water: Tree of Life
From whom Life comes to every thing alive:
Some Eate and Drink Eternall Life most rife.
Some life have for a while by a reprive.
Who in this well do let their bucket down
Shall never in the lake of Lethe drown.
From whom Life comes to every thing alive:
Some Eate and Drink Eternall Life most rife.
Some life have for a while by a reprive.
Who in this well do let their bucket down
Shall never in the lake of Lethe drown.
Lord, bath mee in this Well of Life. This Dew
Of Vitall Fruite will make mee ever live.
My branch make green: my Rose ware vivid hew
An Holy and a fragrant sent out give.
My kirnell ripe shall rattle out thy praise
And Orient blush shall on my actions blaze.
Of Vitall Fruite will make mee ever live.
My branch make green: my Rose ware vivid hew
An Holy and a fragrant sent out give.
My kirnell ripe shall rattle out thy praise
And Orient blush shall on my actions blaze.
The Poems of Edward Taylor | ||