Edward Taylor Poems

In heaven soaring up, I dropped an ear
On earth: and Oh, sweet melody:
And listening, found it was the saints who were
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Infinity, when all things it beheld
In Nothing, and of Nothing all did build,
Upon what base was fixed the lath wherein
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A Curious Knot God made in Paradise,
And drew it out inamled neatly Fresh.
It was the True-Love Knot, more sweet than spice
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My sin! My sin, my God, these cursed dregs,
Green, yellow, blue-streaked poison hellish, rank,
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What love is this of Thine that cannot be
In Thine infinity, O Lord, confined,
Unless it in Thy very person see
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Philippians II: 9: Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him.

View, all ye eyes above, this sight which flings
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Oh! What a thing is man? Lord, who am I?
That Thou shouldest give him law (Oh! golden line)
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Am I Thy gold? Or purse, Lord, for Thy wealth;
Whether in mine or mint refined for Thee?
I'm counted so ...
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(John. 20:17. My Father, and your Father, to my God, and your God)
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(I. Corinthians 3:22. Whether Paul or Apollos, or Cephas)

Thy grace, dear Lord, 's my golden wrack, I find,
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