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 | A transcript of Edward Taylor's Metrical History of Christianity by Donald E. Stanford |  |
But that floriferous place wherein thou spidst
All sparkling Youth most beautifull reside
Is that wherein the Souls are welcom'd which
Went from the bodie forth in good works rich.
But such as are in er'y Word, Work, thought
Compleatly perfect, shall forth with be brought
Into th'Celestiall Kingdom when they die,
To which this place of sweetest songs lies by.
But seing thou must turn again to live
With men unto thy body, se thou give
Thy selfe to such an Exact, perfect life
That after death thy Soule with joys most rife
Unto these mansions of blesst Spirits may,
Conducted bee without all Stop or Stay.
But speaking thus, I did detest to goe
Back to my body, being enravisht so
With sweetness and the Glory of the place,
And with the Consorts there mine Eyes did trace.
Yet durst not ask my Guide a jot hereof.
But soon I know not how I was steerd of
And finde myselfe With men again am brought.
What monkishness is this? Oh mischiefe fraught.
Poore Souls neglecting faithfull Teachers bright
Turning to Romish Ceremonies our plight
Are quickly gulld thus by the Divell who
Turns Monk and Ape to mock them so and so.
All sparkling Youth most beautifull reside
Is that wherein the Souls are welcom'd which
Went from the bodie forth in good works rich.
But such as are in er'y Word, Work, thought
Compleatly perfect, shall forth with be brought
Into th'Celestiall Kingdom when they die,
To which this place of sweetest songs lies by.
But seing thou must turn again to live
With men unto thy body, se thou give
Thy selfe to such an Exact, perfect life
That after death thy Soule with joys most rife
Unto these mansions of blesst Spirits may,
Conducted bee without all Stop or Stay.
But speaking thus, I did detest to goe
Back to my body, being enravisht so
With sweetness and the Glory of the place,
And with the Consorts there mine Eyes did trace.
Yet durst not ask my Guide a jot hereof.
But soon I know not how I was steerd of
And finde myselfe With men again am brought.
What monkishness is this? Oh mischiefe fraught.
Poore Souls neglecting faithfull Teachers bright
Turning to Romish Ceremonies our plight
Are quickly gulld thus by the Divell who
Turns Monk and Ape to mock them so and so.
| A transcript of Edward Taylor's Metrical History of Christianity by Donald E. Stanford | |