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PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 13, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: I fain would praise thee, lord, but when I would
Last Line: My growing grace will glorify thyselfe.
Subject(s): Puritans In Literature


I fain would praise thee, Lord, but when I would,
I finde my Sin my Praise dispraises bring.
I fain would life my hands up as I should,
But when I do, I finde them fould by Sin.
I strive to heave my heart to thee, but finde
When striving, in my heart an heartless minde.

Oh! that my Love, and mine Affections rich
Did spend themselves on thee and thou hadst them.
I strive to have thy Glory on them pitch
And fetch thee them. Hence Solomon thy jem,
And glorious Type thy Sparkling Beams out flings
But in the same my Love but little springs.

Was He a bud of Davids stock? So thou.
Was he a King? Thou art a King of Kings.
Was He a Make-peace King? Thy royall brow
Doth weare a Crown which peace Eternall brings.
Did He Excell in Wisdome? Thine doth flame.
And thou art Wisdom's Storehouse whence his came.

I may aver he's of all fallen men
The perfect'st piece that Nature ever bred.
Thy Human nature is the perfect'st jem
That Adams offspring ever brudled.
No spot nor Wrinckle did it ever smite.
Adams in Paradise was ne're so bright.

Did He Gods Temple Build, in glory shown?
Thou buildst Gods House, more gloriously bright.
Did he sit on a golden ivery Throne
With Lions fenc'd? Thy Throne is far more White
And glorious: garded with Angells strong.
A Streame of fire doth with the Verdict come.

Did he his Spouse, a glorious Palace build?
The Heavens are thy Palace for thy Spouse.
Gods house was by his pray're with Glory filld.
God will for thine his Church in Glory house.
Did Sheba's Queen faint viewing of his glory?
Bright Angells stand amazed at thy Story.

But hence griefe springs, finding these rayes of Light
Scarce reach my heart, it is so ditcht with Sin.
I scarce can see I see it, or it smite
Upon my Love that it doth run to him.
Why so? my Lord! Why so? Shall Love up shrink?
Or mine Affection to thee be a Shrimp?

Oh! feed me at thy Table, make Grace grow
Knead in thy Bread, I eate, thy Love to mee,
And spice thy Cup I take, with rich grace so,
That at thy Table I may honour thee.
And if thy Banquet fill mee with thy Wealth,
My growing Grace will glorify thyselfe.





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