Edward Taylor

(1642 - 29 June 1729 / Sketchley / Leicestershire / England)

Best Poem of Edward Taylor

Ebb And Flow

When first Thou on me, Lord, wroughtest Thy sweet print,
My heart was made Thy tinder-box,
My 'ffections were Thy tinder in't,
Where fell Thy sparks by drops.
Those holy sparks of heavenly fire that came
Did ever catch and often out would flame.

But now my heart is made Thy censer trim,
Full of Thy golden altar's fire,
To offer up sweet incense in
Unto Thyself entire:
I find my tinder scarce Thy sparks can feel
That drop from out Thy holy flint and steel.

Hence doubts out bud for fear Thy fire in me
'S a mocking ignis fatuus,
Or lest Thine ...

Read the full of Ebb And Flow

Ebb And Flow

When first Thou on me, Lord, wroughtest Thy sweet print,
My heart was made Thy tinder-box,
My 'ffections were Thy tinder in't,
Where fell Thy sparks by drops.
Those holy sparks of heavenly fire that came
Did ever catch and often out would flame.

But now my heart is made Thy censer trim,
Full of Thy golden altar's fire,

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