What Love?

What love is this of thine, that cannot be
In thine infinity, O Lord, confined,
Unless it in thy very person see
Infinity, and finity, conjoined?
What! Hath thy Godhead, as not satisfied,
Married our manhood, making it its bride?
Oh, matchless love! Filling Heaven to the brim!
O’er running it; all running o’er beside
This world! Nay, overflowing hell, wherein
For thine elect there rose a mighty tide,
That there our veins might through thy person bleed
To quench those flames that else would on us feed!
Oh, that thy love might over flow my heart,
To fire the same with love! For love I would.
But oh, my straitened breast! My lifeless spark!
My fireless flame! What chilly love, and cold?
In measure small? In manner chilly? See!
Lord, blow the coal, thy love inflame in me.

~ Edward Taylor, 1642-1729


About middlingpoet

From the Gawain poet to Rainer Maria Rilke: I love traditional poetry.
This entry was posted in Anglican, Divine Riddles, mysticism and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s