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The Poems of Edward Taylor

Edited by Donald E. Standford ... With a foreword by Louis L. Martz

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108. Meditation. Matt. 26.26.27. Jesus took bread—and he took the Cup
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108. Meditation. Matt. 26.26.27. Jesus took bread—and he took the Cup

8.4m [June] 1712.
What Royall Feast Magnificent is this,
I am invited to, where all the fare

278

Is spic'd with Adjuncts, (ornamentall bliss)
Which are its robes it ever more doth ware?
These Robes of Adjuncts shining round about
Christs golden Sheers did cut exactly out.
The Bread and Wine true Doctrine teach for faith
(True Consequence from Truth will never ly)
Their Adjuncts teach Christs humane nature hath
A Certain place and not Ubiquity.
Hence this Condemns Ubiquitarians
And whom deny Christs Manhood too it damns.
It Consubstantiation too Confounds.
Bread still is bread, Wine still is wine its sure.
It Transubstantiation deadly wounds.
Your touch, Tast, Sight say true. The Pope's a whore.
Can Bread and Wine by words be Carnifide?
And manifestly bread and Wine abide?
What monsterous thing doth Transubstantiation
And Consubstantiation also make
Christs Body, having a Ubique-Station,
When thousands Sacraments men Celebrate
Upon a day, if th'Bread and wine should e're
Be Con---, or Trans-Substantiated there?
If in Christs Doctrine taught us in this Feast,
There lies No ly. (And Christ can never ly)
The Christian Faith cannot abide at least
To dash out reasons brains, or blinde its eye.
Faith never blindeth reasons Eye but cleares
Its Sight to see things quite above its Sphere.
These Adjuncts shew this feast is ray'd in ware
Of Holiness enlin'de with honours Shine.
Its Sabbath Entertainment, spirituall fare.
It's Churches banquet, Spirituall Bread and Wine.
It is the Signet of the Kings right hande,
Seale to the Covenant of Grace Gods bande.

279

The Sign, bread, made of th'kidnies of Wheate
That grew in Zions field: And th'juyce we sup
Presst from the grape of Zions Vine sweet, great
Doth make the Signall Wine within the Cup.
Those Signals Bread and Wine are food that bear
Christ in them Crucified, as spirituall fare.
Here is a feast indeed! in ev'ry Dish
A Whole Redeemer, Cookt up bravely, Good,
Is served up in holy Sauce that is,
A mess of Delicates made of his blood,
Adornd with graces Sippits: rich Sweet-Meats.
Comfort and Comforts sweeten whom them eats.
Lord, Make thou me at this rich feast thy Guest
And let my food a whole redeemer bee.
Let Grace Carve him for mee in ev'ry mess:
And rowle her Cuttings in this Sawce for mee.
If thou me fatten with this Faire While here.
Here after shall thy praise be my good Cheere.