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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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142. Meditation. Can. 6.9. My Dove is One the onely One of her mother the Choice One of her that bare her etc.
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142. Meditation. Can. 6.9. My Dove is One the onely One of her mother the Choice One of her that bare her etc.

4.3m [May] 1718.
What shall I say, my Deare Deare Lord? most Deare
Of thee! My choisest words when spoke are then
Articulated Breath, soon disappeare.
If wrote are but the Drivle of my pen
Beblackt with my inke, soon torn worn out unless
Thy Holy Spirit be their inward Dress.
What, what a Say is this. Thy Spouse doth rise.
Thy Dove all Undefiled doth excell
All though but one the onely in thine Eyes
All Queen and Concubines that bear the bell.
Her excellence all excellency far
Transcends as doth the Sun a pinking Star.
She is the Onely one her mother bore
Jerusalem ever above esteems
Her for her Darling her choice one therefore

340

Thou holdst her for the best that ere was seen.
The Sweetest Flower in all thy Paradise
And she that bore her Made her hers most Choice.
That power of thine that made the Heavens bow,
And blush with shining glory ever cleare
Hath taken her within his glorious brow
And made her Madam of his Love most Deare
Hath Circled her within his glorious arms
Of Love most rich, her shielding from all harms.
She is thy Dove, thy Undefiled, she shines
In thy rich Righteousness all Lovely, White
The onely Choice one of her Mother, thine
Most beautifull beloved, thy Delight.
The Daughters saw and blessed her, the Queens
And Concubines her praisd and her esteem.
Thy Love that fills the Heavens brimfull throughout
Coms tumbling on her with transcendent bliss
Even as it were in golden pipes that spout
In Streams from heaven, Oh! what love like this?
This comes upon her, hugs her in its Arms
And warms her Spirits. Oh! Celestiall Charms.
Make me a member of this Spouse of thine
I humbly beg deck thus, as Tenis Ball
I shall struck hard on th'ground back bounce with Shine
Of Praise up to the Chamber floor thy Hall,
Possesses. And at that bright Doore I'l sing
Thy sweetest praise untill thou'st take me in.