Preparatory Meditations
Taylor, Edward, 1642-1729: 30. Meditation Math. 12.40. As ![[H]](/images/hit.gif)
Jonah was three Dayes,
and three nights in the Whales belly. So must etc. [from The Poems (1960)]
9.2m [Apr.] 1699.
1 Prest down with sorrow, Lord, not for my Sin
2 But with Saint 'Tony Cross I crossed
groane.
3 Thus my leane Muses garden thwarts the spring
4 Instead of Anthems, breatheth her ahone.
5 But duty raps upon her doore for Verse.
6 That makes her bleed a poem through her
searce.
7 When, Lord, man was the miror of thy Works
8 In happy state, adorn'd with Glory's Wealth
9 What heedless thing was hee? The serpent lurks
10 Under an apple paring, and by stealth
11 Destroy'd her Glory. O poor keeper hee
12 Was of himselfe: lost God, and lost his
Glee.
13 Christ, as a Turtle Dove, puts out his Wing.
14 Lay all on me, I will, saith hee, Convay
15 Away thy fault, and answer for thy sin.
16 Thou'st be the Stowhouse of my Grace, and
lay
17 It and thyselfe out in my service pure
18 And I will for thy sake the storm Endure.
19 Jonas did type this thing, who ran away
20 From God and shipt for Tarsus, fell
asleep.
21 A storm lies on the Ship. The Seamen they
22 Bestir their stumps, and at wits end do
weep.
23 Wake, Jonas, who saith Heave me over deck.
24 The Storm will Cease then, all lies on my
neck.
25 They cast him overboard out of the ship.
26 The tempest terrible, lies thereby still.
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27 A Mighty Whale nam'd Neptunes Dog doth skip
28 At such a Boon, Whose greedy gorge can't
kill
29 Neither Concoct this gudgeon, but its
Chest
30 Became the Prophets Coffin for the best.
31 He three dayes here lies trancifi'de and prayes.
32 Prooves working Physick in the Fishes
Crop.
33 Maybe in th'Euxine, or the Issick Bay
34 She puking falls and he alive out drops.
35 She vomits him alive out on the Land
36 Whence he to Ninive receives command.
37 A sermon he unto the Gentiles preacht,
38 Yet fortie dayes, and Ninus is destroy'd.
39 Space granted, this Repentance doth them teach
40 God pardons them, and thus they ruine
'void.
41 Oh! Sweet Sweet Providence, rich Grace
hath spic'te
42 This Overture to be a type of Christ.
43 Jonas our Turtle Dove, I Christ intend
44 Is in the ship for Tarsus under saile.
45 A fiery storm tempestiously doth spend
46 The Vessill, and its hands. All Spirits
faile.
47 The ship will sink or Wrack upon the rocks
48 Unless the tempest cease the same to box.
49 None can it Charm but Jonas. Christ up posts
50 Is heaved overboard into the sea.
51 The Dove must die. The storm gives up its Ghost
52 And Neptune's Dogg leapes at him as a
Prey.
53 Whose stomach is his Grave where he doth
sleep,
54 Three Dayes sepulchred, Jonas in the Deep.
55 The Grave him swallow'd down as a rich Pill
56 Of Working Physick full of Virtue which
57 Doth purge Death's Constitution of its ill.
58 And womble-Crops her stomach where it
sticks.
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59 It heaves her stomach till her hasps off
fly.
60 And out hee comes Cast up, rais'd up
thereby.
61 In glorious Grace he to the Heathen goes
62 Envites them to Repentance, they accept.
63 Oh! Happy Message squandering Curst foes.
64 Grace in her glorious Charriot here rides
deckt.
65 Wrath's Fire is quencht. And Graces sun
out shines.
66 Death on her deathbed lies, Consumes and
pines.
67 Here is my rich Atonement in thy Death,
68 My Lord, nought is so sweet, though sweat
it cost.
69 This turns from me Gods wrath: Thy sweet sweet breath
70 Revives my heart: thy Rising up o're bosst
71 My Soule with Hope seeing acquittance
in't.
72 That all my sins are kill'd, that did mee
sinke.
73 I thanke thee, Lord. Thy death hath deadned quite
74 The Dreadfull Tempest. Let thy Dovy wings
75 Oreshadow me, and all my Faults benight
76 And with Celestiall Dews my soule
besprindge.
77 In Angells Quires I'le then my Michtams
sing,
78 Upon my Jonath Elem Rechokim.