Upon Wedlock, And Death Of Children Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABACDD EFEFDD GHDDII JDJDDD DK DLMM DNDNOO DPLPDD| A Curious Knot God made in Paradise | A |
| And drew it out inamled neatly Fresh | B |
| It was the True Love Knot more sweet than spice | A |
| And set with all the flowres of Graces dress | C |
| Its Weddens Knot that ne're can be unti'de | D |
| No Alexanders Sword can it divide | D |
| - | |
| The slips here planted gay and glorious grow | E |
| Unless an Hellish breath do sindge their Plumes | F |
| Here Primrose Cowslips Roses Lilies blow | E |
| With Violets and Pinkes that voide perfumes | F |
| Whose beautious leaves ore laid with Hony Dew | D |
| And Chanting birds Cherp out sweet Musick true | D |
| - | |
| When in this Knot I planted was my Stock | G |
| Soon knotted and a manly flower out brake | H |
| And after it my branch again did knot | D |
| Brought out another Flowre its sweet breath d mate | D |
| One knot gave one tother the tothers place | I |
| Whence Checkling smiles fought in each others face | I |
| - | |
| But oh a glorious hand from glory came | J |
| Guarded with Angells soon did Crop this flowere | D |
| Which almost tore the root up of the same | J |
| At that unlookt for Dolesome darksome houre | D |
| In Pray're to Christ perfum'de it did ascend | D |
| And Angells bright did it to heaven tend | D |
| - | |
| But pausing on't this sweet perfum'd my thought | D |
| Christ would in Glory have a Flowre Choice Prime | K |
| - | |
| And having Choice chose this my branch forth brought | D |
| Lord take't I thanke thee thou takst ought of mine | L |
| It is my pledg in glory part of mee | M |
| Is now in it Lord glorifi'de with thee | M |
| - | |
| But praying ore my branch my branch did sprout | D |
| And bore another manly flower and gay | N |
| And after that another sweet brake out | D |
| The which the former hand soon got away | N |
| But oh the tortures Vomit screechings groans | O |
| And six weeks fever would pierce hearts like stones | O |
| - | |
| Griefe o're doth flow and nature fault would finde | D |
| Were not thy Will my Spell Charm Joy and Gem | P |
| That as I said I say take Lord they're thine | L |
| I piecemeale pass to Glory bright in them | P |
| I joy may I sweet Flowers for Glory breed | D |
| Whether thou getst them green or lets them seed | D |
Edward Taylor
(1)
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