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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381162" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I Am The Living Bread: Meditation Eight: John 6:51</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I kening through Astronomy Divine<br>The Worlds bright Battlement, wherein I spy<br>A Golden Path my Pensill cannot line,<br>From that bright Throne unto my Threshold ly.<br>And while my puzzled thoughts about it pore<br>I finde the Bread of Life in’t at my doore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When that this Bird of Paradise put in<br>This Wicker Cage (my Corps) to tweedle praise<br>Had peckt the Fruite forbad: and so did fling<br>Away its Food; and lost its golden dayes;<br>It fell into Celestiall Famine sore:<br>And never could attain a morsell more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas! alas! Poore Bird, what wilt thou doe?<br>The Creatures field no food for Souls e’re gave.<br>And if thou knock at Angells dores they show<br>An Empty Barrell: they no soul bread have.<br>Alas! Poore Bird, the Worlds White Loafe is done<br>And cannot yield thee here the smallest Crumb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In this sad state, Gods Tender Bowells run<br>Out streams of Grace: And he to end all strife<br>The Purest Wheate in Heaven, his deare-dear Son<br>Grinds, and kneads up into this Bread of Life.<br>Which Bread of Life from Heaven down came and stands<br>Disht on thy Table up by Angells Hands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Did God mould up this Bread in Heaven, and bake,<br>Which from his Table came, and to thine goeth?<br>Doth he bespeake thee thus, This Soule Bread take.<br>Come Eate thy fill of this thy Gods White Loafe?<br>Its Food too fine for Angells, yet come, take<br>And Eate thy fill. Its Heavens Sugar Cake.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What Grace is this knead in this Loafe? This thing<br>Souls are but petty things it to admire.<br>Yee Angells, help: This fill would to the brim<br>Heav’ns whelm’d-down Chrystall meele Bowle, yea and higher.<br>This Bread of Life dropt in thy mouth, doth Cry.<br>Eate, Eate me, Soul, and thou shalt never dy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edward+Taylor">Edward Taylor</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381162" data-title="I Am The Living Bread: Meditation Eight: John 6:51 de Edward Taylor" data-description="I kening through Astronomy Divine
The Worlds bright Battlement, wherein I spy
A Golden Path my Pensill cannot line,
From that bright Throne unto my Threshold ly.
And while my puzzled thoughts about it pore
I finde the Bread of Life in’t at my do..."></div>
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