Here you will find the Poem Preparatory Meditations - First Series: 29 of poet Edward Taylor
(John. 20:17. My Father, and your Father, to my God, and your God) My shattered fancy stole away from me (Wits run a-wooling over Eden's park) And in God's garden saw a golden tree, Whose heart was all divine, and gold its bark. Whose glorious limbs and fruitful branches strong With saints and angels bright are richly hung. Thou! Thou! my dear dear Lord, art this rich tree, The tree of life within God's Paradise. I am a withered twig, dried fit to be A chat cast in Thy fire, writh off by vice. Yet if Thy milk-white gracious hand will take me And graft me in this golden stock, Thou'lt make me. Thou'lt make me then its fruit, and branch to spring, And though a nipping east wind blow, and all Hell's nymphs with spite their dog's sticks therat ding To dash the graft off, and its fruits to fall, Yet I shall stand Thy graft, and fruits that are Fruits of the tree of life Thy graft shall bear. I being graft in Thee, there up do stand In us relations all that mutual are. I am Thy patient, pupil, servant, and Thy sister, mother, dove, spouse, son, and heir. Thou art my priest, physician, prophet, king, Lord, brother, bridegroom, father, everything. I being graft in Thee I am grafted here Into Thy family, and kindred claim To all in heaven, God, saints, and angels there. I Thy relations my relations name. Thy father's mine, Thy God my God, and I With saints and angels draw affinity. My Lord, what is it that Thou dost bestow? The praise on this account fills up, and throngs Eternity brimful, doth overflow The heavens vast with rich angelic songs. How should I blush? How tremble at this thing, Not having yet my gam-ut learned to sing. But, Lord, as burnished sunbeams forth out fly, Let angel-shine forth in my life outflame, That I may grace Thy graceful family And not to Thy relations be a shame. Make me Thy graft, be Thou my golden stock. Thy glory then I'll make my fruits and crop.