The Poems of Edward Taylor :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Effects of Mans Apostacy.

While man unmarr'd abode his Spirits all
In Vivid hue were active in their hall,
This Spotless Body, here and there mentain
Their traffick for the Universall gain.
Till Sin Beat up for Volunteers. Whence came
A thousand Griefs attending on the same.
Which march in ranck, and file, proceed to make
A Battery, and the fort of Life to take.
Which when the Centinalls did spy, the Heart
Did beate alarum up in every part.
The Vitall Spirits apprehend thereby
Exposde to danger great the suburbs ly,
The which they do desert, and speedily
The Fort of Life the Heart, they Fortify.
The Heart beats up still by her Pulse to Call

389

Out of the outworks her train Souldiers all
Which quickly come hence: now the Looks grow pale
Limbs feeble too: the Enemies prevaile.
Do scale the Outworks where there's Scarce a Scoute
That can be Spi'de sent from the Castle out.

Man at a muze, and in a maze doth stand,
While Feare the Generall of all the Band
Makes inroads on him: then he Searches why,
And quickly Findes God stand as Enemy.
Whom he would fain subdue, yet Fears affright
In Varnishing their Weapons in his Sight.
Troops after troops, Bands after Bands do high,
Armies of armed terrours drawing nigh:
He lookes within, and sad amazement's there,
Without, and all things fly about his Eares.
Above, and sees Heaven falling on his pate,
Below and spies th'Infernall burning lake,
Before and sees God storming in his Face,
Behinde, and spies Vengeance persues his trace.
To stay he dares not, go he knows not where
From God he can't, to God he dreads for Feare.
To Dy he Dreads; For Vengeance's due to him;
To Live he must not, Death persues his Sin:
He Knows not what to have, nor what to loose
Nor what to do, nor what to take or Choose:
Thus over Stretcht upon the Wrack of Woe,
Bereav'd of Reason, he proceeds now so,
Betakes himself unto his Heels in hast,
Runs like a Madman till his Spirits wast,
Then like a Child that fears the Poker Clapp
Him on his face doth on his Mothers lap
Doth hold his breath, lies still for fear least hee
Should by his breathing lowd discover'd bee.
Thus on his face doth see no outward thing
But still his heart for Feare doth pant within.
Doth make its Drummer beate so loud it makes

390

The Very Bulworks of the City Quake:
Yet gets no aide: Wherefore the Spirits they
Are ready all to leave, and run away.
For Nature in this Pannick feare scarce gives
Him life enough, to let him feel he lives.
Yet this he easily feels, he liveth in
A Dying Life, and Living Death by Sin,
Yet in this Lifeless life wherein he lies,
Some Figments of Excuses doth devise
That he may Something say, when rain'd, although
His Say seems nothing, and for nought will go.
But while he Sculking on his face close lies
Espying nought, the Eye Divine him spies.
Justice and Mercy then fall to debate
Concerning this poore fallen mans estate,
Before the Bench of the Almighties Breast
Th' ensuing Dialogues hint their Contest.