Preparatory Meditations - First Series: 32 Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBCDE FGFGHH FFFFFF FIFIFF JGJGFI KFLFMM GG GGN| I Corinthians Whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas | A |
| - | |
| Thy grace dear Lord 's my golden wrack I find | B |
| Screwing my fancy into ragged rhymes | C |
| Tuning Thy praises in my feeble mind | B |
| Until I come to strike them on my chimes | C |
| Were I an angel bright and borrow could | D |
| King David's harp I would them play on gold | E |
| - | |
| But plunged I am my mind is puzzled | F |
| When I would spin my fancy thus unspun | G |
| In finest twine of praise I'm muzzled | F |
| My tazzled thoughts twirled into snick snarls run | G |
| Thy grace my Lord is such a glorious thing | H |
| It doth confound me when I would it sing | H |
| - | |
| Eternal love an object mean did smite | F |
| Which by the prince of darkness was beguiled | F |
| That from this love it ran and swelled with spite | F |
| And in the way with filth was all defiled | F |
| Yet must be reconciled cleansed and begraced | F |
| Or from the fruits of God's first love displaced | F |
| - | |
| Then grace my Lord wrought in Thy heart a vent | F |
| Thy soft soft hand to this hard work did go | I |
| And to the milk white throne of justice went | F |
| And entered bond that grace might overflow | I |
| Hence did Thy person t my nature tie | F |
| And bleed through human veins to satisfy | F |
| - | |
| Oh grace grace grace This wealthy grace doth lay | J |
| Her golden channels from Thy father's throne | G |
| Into our earthen pitchers to convey | J |
| Heaven's aqua vitae to s for our own | G |
| O Let Thy golden gutters run into | F |
| My cup this liquor till it overflow | I |
| - | |
| Thine ordinances grace's wine fats where | K |
| Thy spirit walks and grace's runs do lie | F |
| And angels waiting stand with holy cheer | L |
| From grace's conduit head with all supply | F |
| These vessels full of grace are and the bowls | M |
| In which their taps do run are precious souls | M |
| - | |
| Thou to the cups dost say that catch this wine | G |
| 'This liquor golden pipes and wine fats plain | G |
| Whether Paul Apollos Cephas all are thine ' | - |
| Oh golden word Lord speak it o'er again | G |
| Lord speak it home to me say these are mine | G |
| My bells shall then Thy praises bravely chime | N |
Edward Taylor
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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