The Poems of Edward Taylor Edited by Donald E. Standford ... With a foreword by Louis L. Martz |
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62. | 62. Meditation. Can. 1.12. While the King sitteth at his
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The Poems of Edward Taylor | ||
62. Meditation. Can. 1.12. While the King sitteth at his table, my Spicknard sendeth forth the smell thereof.
18.9m [Nov.] 1704.
Oh! thou, my Lord, thou king of Saints, here mak'st
A royal Banquet thine to entertain.
With rich, and royall fare, Celestiall Cates,
And sittest at the Table rich of fame.
Am I bid to this Feast? Sure Angells stare,
Such Rugged looks, and Ragged robes I ware.
A royal Banquet thine to entertain.
With rich, and royall fare, Celestiall Cates,
And sittest at the Table rich of fame.
Am I bid to this Feast? Sure Angells stare,
Such Rugged looks, and Ragged robes I ware.
I'le surely come, Lord fit mee for this feast:
Purge me with Palma Christi from my Sin.
With Plastrum Gratiae Dei, or at least
Unguent Apostolorum healing bring.
Give me thy Sage, and Savory: me dub
With Golden Rod, and with Saints Johns Wort good.
Purge me with Palma Christi from my Sin.
With Plastrum Gratiae Dei, or at least
Unguent Apostolorum healing bring.
Give me thy Sage, and Savory: me dub
With Golden Rod, and with Saints Johns Wort good.
Root up my Henbain, Fawnbain, Divells bit.
My Dragons, Chokewort, Crosswort, Ragwort, vice,
And set my knot with Honysuckles, stick
Rich Herb-a-Grace, and Grains of Paradise
Angelica, yea Sharons Rose the best
And Herba Trinitatis in my breast.
My Dragons, Chokewort, Crosswort, Ragwort, vice,
And set my knot with Honysuckles, stick
Rich Herb-a-Grace, and Grains of Paradise
Angelica, yea Sharons Rose the best
And Herba Trinitatis in my breast.
Then let thy Sweetspike sweat its liquid Dew
Into my Crystall Viall: and there swim.
And as thou at thy Table in Rich Shew
With royal Dainties, sweet discourse as King
Dost Welcome thine. My Spiknard with its Smell
Shall vapour out perfumed Spirits Well.
Into my Crystall Viall: and there swim.
And as thou at thy Table in Rich Shew
With royal Dainties, sweet discourse as King
Dost Welcome thine. My Spiknard with its Smell
Shall vapour out perfumed Spirits Well.
193
Whether I at thy Table Guest do sit,
And feed my tast: or Wait, and fat mine Eye
And Eare with Sights and Sounds, Heart Raptures fit,
My Spicknard breaths its sweet perfumes with joy.
My heart thy Viall with this spicknard fill.
Perfumed praise to thee then breath it will.
And feed my tast: or Wait, and fat mine Eye
And Eare with Sights and Sounds, Heart Raptures fit,
My Spicknard breaths its sweet perfumes with joy.
My heart thy Viall with this spicknard fill.
Perfumed praise to thee then breath it will.
The Poems of Edward Taylor | ||