Hast done the deed: and’t makes the heavens ring. (30)
Summary: The poet undertakes an interesting distance from himself throughout this poem. First, he has been operating from an interesting psychological point of view because he sees himself addicted helpless to sin and simultaneously sees himself from the outside as some sort of loathsome beast. He is an addict who cannot put down the needle and who in the same moment wretches for the vile creature he has become.
In this stanza the looks to find some relief, but knows it is impossible:
We e’re want [that is, whatever it is we lack] we cannot cry for.
There is something we need but there is no way to fulfill this need: we cannot even cry for it.
We cannot look to angels, because we need is from God, and angels cannot convey this to us. Only God himself can do so – and has done so. This unwarranted and unobtained benefit is a cause for joy.
Notes:
We cannot cry: Crying out in distress is the refrain of the book of Judges. The people of Israel repeatedly turn to idolatry. In response, God leaves them to their unfriendly neighbors. The Israelites then cry out to God, who in turn says them. In the beginning of chapter 2 (the book is not chronological), the Angel of the Lord “went up from Gilgal to Bochim.” Bochim is a Hebrew word which means “weeping.” The Angel tells the people that since they have refused to keep their covenant with God, God will no longer hear their cries and defend them.
Later in Judges 10:14, God again confronts the people who have turned from him. “God and cry out to the gods whom you have chosen; let them save you in the time of your distress.”
Taylor seems to have an illusion to these passages: I am so deeply embedded in sin that I cannot cry for help. In particular, the end of line 26 underscores this point: our cry – were able to make such a cry would be of no use, “we cannot have it thus.”
The Angels cannot convey: Even though angels are given as “ministering spirits set out to serve for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation” (Heb. 1:14) there are limits on the help they can convey.
The degree help needed by Taylor in his state of sin exceeds the assistance of angels. The lack of the human being in the state of sin exceeds some external aid. The language used to describe the condition of sin speaks to an irremediable condition.
The angels are said to have conveyed the law (Heb. 2:2, “the message declared by angels”). This seems to put something into human hands, but “by works of the law, no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin.”
The “golden pipes” of the angels in end only could convey knowledge of guilt.
But thou my Lord … hast done the deed: This speaks to the work of Jesus who destroyed sin and death, and him who had the power of death (Heb. 2:14).
Heart leap for joy and sing … “Rejoice in the Lord always and again I will say rejoice.” (Phil. 4:4)
And’t makes the heavens ring: “Let all God’s angels worship him.” Heb. 1:6.
Psalms 118:23-24
This is the Lord’s doing
It is marvelous in our eyes.
This is the day the Lord has made
Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
Musical
What e’re we want, we cannot cry for, nay
If that we could, we could not have it thus.
These lines have an interesting rhetorical structure: A conditional, followed by an unconditional rejection: Whatever it is we need, we cannot have it. And even if we could have it, we cannot. The structure of the clauses is held together by the repetition of the word “we”: we want, we cannot cry, we could, we could.
But that is not the worst: there’s worse than this.
My taste is lost; no bite tastes sweet to me
But what is dipped all over in this dish.
Of rank rank poison: this my sauce must be.
Hell heaven, heaven hell, yea bitter sweet:
Poison’s my food: food poison in’t doth keep.
Summary: I have come to love the Devil’s sauce sin that I cannot enjoy anything without this poison. I love the poison. I am so upside down that I must have sin mixed in with everything I do.
Notes:
This gets at something which was very important in much Puritans were quite interested, the way in which sin both twisted the human being and at the same time created the desire for sin itself:
“The example in Romans 7:8 of Paul, who by his own account, was one of the most morally degenerate men who ever lived (Phil. 3:6; 1 Tim. 1:13, 15), provides a gateway for Goodwin to understand how no man or woman in a carnal state is free from inclination to all sin. The struggling man in Romans 7 was viewed by the Puritans as a Christian,32 but verse 8 has reference to Paul in his unconverted state. The sin in Paul in this verse is original sin, and original sin produced in him “all manner of concupiscence,” that is, all kinds of covetous lust or desire for things forbidden.33 As Edward Reynolds put it, “It is as natural to the heart to lust, as it is to the eye to see.”34 Self-love, instead of love to God, results from original sin.” Beeke, Joel R.; Jones, Mark. A Puritan Theology: Doctrine for Life (pp. 279-280). Reformation Heritage Books. Kindle Edition.
Jonathan Edwards notes that even though there is such variety in the circumstances among human beings, there is one thing which invariably shows up, sin:
THE proposition laid down being proved, the consequence of it remains to be made out, viz. that the mind of man has a natural tendency or propensity to that event, which has been shewn universally and infallibly to take place (if this ben’t sufficiently evident of itself, without proof), and that this is a corrupt or depraved propensity.
Jonathan Edwards, Original Sin, ed. John E. Smith and Clyde A. Holbrook, Corrected Edition., vol. 3, The Works of Jonathan Edwards (New Haven; London: Yale University Press, 1997), 120. And:
The general continued wickedness of mankind, against such means and motives, proves each of these things, viz. that the cause is fixed, and that the fixed cause is internal, in man’s nature, and also that it is very powerful. It proves the first, namely, that the cause is fixed, because the effect is so abiding, through so many changes. It proves the second, that is, that the fixed cause is internal, because the circumstances are so various: the variety of means and motives is one thing that is to be referred to the head of variety of circumstances: and they are that kind of circumstances, which above all others proves this; for they are such circumstances as can’t possibly cause the effect, being most opposite to the effect in their tendency.
193. As Edwards’ explains in his Treatise Freedom of the Will, it is desire that binds the will. And thus this universal tendency to sin is the result of a universal desire.
What Taylor does so well in this stanza is to couple desire and poison into a single movement: We desire our destruction. There is an image from Jeremiah which helps here:
Jeremiah 2:23–25 (AV)
23 How canst thou say, I am not polluted, I have not gone after Baalim? see thy way in the valley, know what thou hast done: thou art a swift dromedary traversing her ways; 24 A wild ass used to the wilderness, that snuffeth up the wind at her pleasure; in her occasion who can turn her away? all they that seek her will not weary themselves; in her month they shall find her. 25 Withhold thy foot from being unshod, and thy throat from thirst: but thou saidst, There is no hope: no; for I have loved strangers, and after them will I go.
Taylor does not copy the image, but he does rely upon the concept.
Thomas Brooks provides a closer parallel:
Sin is from the greatest deceiver, it is a child of his own begetting, it is the ground of all the deceit in the world, and it is in its own nature exceeding deceitful. Heb. 3:13, ‘But exhort one another daily, while it is called To-day, lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin.’ It will kiss the soul, and pretend fair to the soul, and yet betray the soul for ever. It will with Delilah smile upon us, that it may betray us into the hands of the devil, as she did Samson into the hands of the Philistines. Sin gives Satan a power over us, and an advantage to accuse us and to lay claim to us, as those that wear his badge; it is of a very bewitching nature, it bewitches the soul, where it is upon the throne, that the soul cannot leave it, though it perish eternally by it.4 Sin so bewitches the soul, that it makes the soul call evil good, and good evil; bitter sweet and sweet bitter, light darkness and darkness light; and a soul thus bewitched with sin will stand it out to the death, at the sword’s point with God; let God strike and wound, and cut to the very bone, yet the bewitched soul cares not, fears no but will still hold on in a course of wickedness, as you may see in Pharaoh, Balaam, and Judas. Tell the bewitched soul that sin is a viper that will certainly kill when it is not killed, that sin often kills secretly, insensibly, eternally, yet the bewitched soul cannot, nor will not, cease from sin.
When the physicians told Theotimus that except he did abstain from drunkenness and uncleanness, &c., he would lose his eyes, his heart was so bewitched to his sins, that he answers, ‘Then farewell sweet light;’1 he had rather lose his eyes than leave his sin. So a man bewitched with sin had rather lose God, Christ, heaven, and his own soul than part with his sin. Oh, therefore, for ever take heed of playing or nibbling at Satan’s golden baits
Thomas Brooks, The Complete Works of Thomas Brooks, ed. Alexander Balloch Grosart, vol. 1 (Edinburgh; London; Dublin: James Nichol; James Nisbet and Co.; G. Herbert, 1866), 15–16.
And this:
Many long to be meddling with the murdering morsels of sin, which nourish not, but rent and consume the belly, the soul, that receives them. Many eat that on earth that they digest in hell. Sin’s murdering morsels will deceive those that devour them. Adam’s apple was a bitter sweet; Esau’s mess was a bitter sweet; the Israelites’ quails a bitter sweet; Jonathan’s honey a bitter sweet; and Adonijah’s dainties a bitter sweet. After the meal is ended, then comes the reckoning. Men must not think to dance and dine with the devil, and then to sup with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven; to feed upon the poison of asps, and yet that the viper’s tongue should not slay them
Thomas Brooks, The Complete Works of Thomas Brooks, ed. Alexander Balloch Grosart, vol. 1 (Edinburgh; London; Dublin: James Nichol; James Nisbet and Co.; G. Herbert, 1866), 14.
Musical
But that is not the worst: there’s worse than this.
My taste is lost; no bite tastes sweet to me (20)
But what is dipped all over in this dish.
Of rank rank poison: this my sauce must be.
Hell heaven, heaven hell, yea bitter sweet:
Poison’s my food: food poison in’t doth keep.
The r’s and s’s work well together especially in the first line. “Worse than this” by itself is not a very promising “poetic” line. But the repetition of “worst/worse” “the worst there’s worse” also works. The next line picks up on these sound but now we the repetition of taste/tastes, and the sounds of “tastes sweet”, where the s’s and t’s: t-s-t-s-t. Line 21 again works on a alliteration: dipped-dish.
This alliteration within the individual line gives a feel of Anglo-Saxon poetry where alliteration is a primary means to hold a line together
Oft Scyld Scefing sceaþena þreatum,
monegum mægþum, meodosetla ofteah,
(Beowulf)
He uses the very same technique in the remainder of the stanza, but in the last two lines he uses the alliteration to underscore the reversals:
Of rank rank poison: this my sauce must be.
Hell heaven, heaven hell, yea bitter sweet:
Poison’s my food: food poison in’t doth keep.
Hl – hn / hn – hl
P-f/f-p
The word “poison” ties these lines together.
He marks the transition into this section by means of the repetition of “rank-rank” which slows the movement of the stanza. It is then offset by a colon and the sad, “This my sauce must be.” Note again the m-s/m-s repetition.
The line, “This my sauce must be” is a rather sad resignation. It reminds me of the tone of Hosea, “Ephraim is joined to idols;/Leave him alone.”
Final note: What is most devasting about the poet’s situation is that there is no rescue from this place. Even though he is destroying himself, he wants to be here. It is like finding someone in a prison and they refuse to leave.
Summary: Now every experience, everything which the poet experiences has been imbued with sin, which he refers to as “poison” or “venom.”
Notes: That Satan is referred to as a serpent is undisputed. In Genesis 3, the Tempter – although not explicitly referred to as Satan – is referred to as the Serpent, the most crafty of subtle beasts of the field (the field was the world outside the Garden). In Revelation 20:2, Satan is explicitly referred to as “that ancient serpent.”
The imagery of Satan as a cook is interesting and unusual. I cannot find any references to Satan as a cook. But, the image is on point because the original sin was brought about through eating. He did provide a dish for Adam and Eve.
Use of this image then makes for a fascinating overlay with original sin. That fruit from the Garden has now become an overlay for all subsequent human action.
All life must be lived in a manner which entails loving God with all heart, soul, mind, and strength. And no action of a human being ever approximates such a level of devotion. It is impossible for post-fall human conduct to ever be perfect.
This actually makes for a fascinating contrast with the current social mobs which attack any deviancy from orthodox thought and conduct. These mobs allow for zero tolerance, zero grace. But in contrast: Paul persecuted the Church; Peter denied Christ; David committed adultery and murder; et cetera. These are our saints. Taylor will get to the inexplicable grace of God – which so contrasts with the judgment of human beings.
Note also that this is not merely sinful but is poisonous: it is filled with venom. Thus, while it is food and desirable; it is also poisonous and spells my death.
Of special note must be the word “sopped”:
Oh! Sad-sad thing! Satan is now turned cook:
Sin is the sauce he gets for every dish.
I cannot bite a bit of bread or root
But what is sopped therein and venomish.
What is so perfect about the word is not merely the sound, but the meaning. Sin as a sauce has been poured over all of his food. He is not merely content to the sauce as it happens to be on his meat: he next uses bread to sop up all the remainders. What a vicious and brilliant vision of sin.
Musical: I rather like this stanza.
Look at all the alliteration on “s”:
Sad, sad, satan, sin, sause, diSh, sopped, venomISH, rightS, lost,
The phrase, “Sin is the Sause” is wonderfully balanced in concept, rhythm, and sound
SIN is the SAUCE
The first line SAD SAD THING SATan: the slow beat, the repetition of not merely S, but SA. “Sad thing” is a near rhyme to “Satan”
The third line of the santza switches to B and R and makes for a wonderful contrast to the sibilant S
I cannot bite a bit of bread or root
But
The alliteration draws the words together. The near rhyme of bite-bit, the movement from B to R in Bite, Bit, BRead, Root is brilliant.
But as a crystal glass, I broke, and lost That grace, and glory I was fashion’d in And cast this rosy world with all its cost Into the dunghill pit and puddle sin. (10) All right I lost in all good things, and each I had did hand a vein of venom in.
Summary: This stanza recounts the fall. Here again, Taylor puts himself into Adam’s story and casts himself as the culprit. “I” am the one who broke the crystal glass. I cast “this rosy world” into the “dunghill.” The “rosy world” is taken over from the first stanza.
He has lost all “right” (that is as in a right in) all that is good. And now all that he has is shot through with “venom.” Venom is a reference to Genesis 3:
Genesis 3:1 (AV) Now the serpent was more subtil than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said unto the woman, Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?
Notes: The reference to this sinful earth in terms of a “dunghill” was a commonplace in English Puritan writing, such as:
First, here is their portion, they are never like to have any other consolation, but that they have here, here is their All. This is as it were their Kingdom; They are upon their own dunghil.
Jeremiah Burroughs, Moses His Choice, with His Eye Fixed upon Heaven: Discovering the Happy Condition of a Self-Denying Heart (London: John Field, 1650), 100. The reference to sin and puddles is also not unknown, though less common. For instance:
One sin may keep possession for Satan, and hinder Jesus Christ from his right—I mean, from sitting on the throne and swaying the sceptre of thy soul. Wallowing in one puddle defiles the body, and tumbling in one piece of filthiness defiles the soul.
George Swinnock, The Works of George Swinnock, M.A., vol. 5 (Edinburgh; London; Dublin: James Nichol; James Nisbet and Co.; G. Herbert, 1868), 454. A striking similarity to Taylor’s use in this stanza is found in Thomas Adams, The Fatal Banquet (the first sermon), found in volume 1 of his collected works at page 169: “Sin is, like water, of a ponderous, crass, gross, stinking, and stinking nature.”
Musical: The g’s of the first stanza, glory, grace, gold, here appears only as what has been lost: the broken glass, the fled glory and grace, the good which is gone.
The meter is regular until the last two lines:
All right I lost in all good things, and each I had did hand a vein of venom in.
Two things are interesting here. The 11th line can be read as a regular line: all RIGHT i LOST. But it also works with an accent on ALL: ALL right I LOST in ALL GOOD things.
Also pause coming between the 8th and 9th syllables creates a run-on, where the last two syllables are essentially unaccented and the entire line runs into the line. As explained on the Poetry Foundation website, this is known as “Enjambment: The running-over of a sentence or phrase from one poetic line to the next, without terminal punctuation; the opposite of end-stopped.”
Effect: The effect of this stanza is to create a sense of both loss, disgust and anger. There is the loss of the “rosy world”; but this loss was not at the hands someone else: I did this.
The use of the I puts the reader in an interesting place, because the I becomes the reader while reading the poem: I – not Taylor – am the one who lost this world.
But this also is to incur disgust. The beautiful world has been lost and now what was glorious is now a pestilent puddle.
21 Therefore let no man glory in men. For all things are yours; 22 Whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours;
Paul is warning the congregation to cease to make the approval of other men the primary goal of life. They were seeking glory; and seemed to see Paul in a similar light. Paul specifically disclaims such glory and urges the congregation to look beyond such glory.
The weight of this poem and Taylor’s emphasis from the motto lie upon the fact that for the congregation “all things are yours.”
The poem works through a history of the world and brings this into a history of Taylor. At the first, he had Paradise he was “begraced with grace.” But that original innocence and blessing was lost. The poem will end with a prayer and a praise that in Christ he has received all things.
Begraced with glory, gloried with grace,
In Paradise I was, when all sweet shines
Hung dangling on this rosy world to face
Mine eyes, and nose, and charm mine ears with chimes.
All these were golden tills the which did hold (5)
My evidences wrapt in glorious folds.
Summary: The poet places in himself (impossibly) in Paradise before the Fall, where all was “very good” in the language of Genesis 1. Everything for him was “glorious”.
Notes:
Begraced with glory: Grace is unmerited, undeserved gift from God. Any good received from God is a grace. Glory is an aspect of God. The ideas are of beauty, blazing light, and honor; in contrast to the broken, fallenness of a world of sin and shame. So to be given grace is to give one glory.
The line is a antimetabole: “Repetition of words, in successive clauses, in reverse grammatical order.” http://rhetoric.byu.edu Grace – glory – glory – Grace.
In Paradise I was: This can only be accessed by means of imagination. Thus, by means of imagination the poet is accessing this place out of time.
All sweet shines: everything good.
Golden tills: a “till” is a box for keeping money or valuables. The phrase is ambiguous, because it is unclear precisely what constitutes the till: did his sense bear such things or does he refer to the beauty of the various things which perceives?
My evidences: This is an interesting phrase, evidence of what. This line from a near contemporary Thomas Watson may help, “The saints’ graces are weapons to defend them, wings to elevate them, jewels to enrich them, spices to perfume them, stars to adorn them, cordials to refresh them: and does not all this work for good? The graces are our evidences for heaven; is it not good to have our evidences at the hour of death?” Thomas Watson, A Divine Cordial; The Saint’s Spiritual Delight; The Holy Eucharist; and Other Treatises, The Writings of the Doctrinal Puritans and Divines of the Seventeenth Century (The Religious Tract Society, 1846), 18.
The combination of “grace” and “evidence” (a not uncommon concept in Puritan theology of the Taylor’s period) is apparent in this first stanza. To be graced is to have an evidence. While his vision of this beauty could be seen as an evidence that is in Paradise, I think it better to see the experience of such bliss as evidence of the grace. The glory evidences the grace; and the grace makes possible both the glory and the sight of glory.
The evidences here are wrapped in “glorious folds”.
Musical: The first word should be read “be-grac-ed” as three syllables for the line to scan properly. The play on the “g” sound in grace, glory, gold, works quite well in this stanza.
At this point, Taylor turns to petition in his prayer. The first part of the poem lays the ground for the prayer, the nature of the need, the greatness of the Savior, and praise. But there he comes to ask that this “sovereign solder” come to repair.
It is a rather musical stanza, particularly relying upon alliteration of R: Rod, bRanch, repair, ridge, rib, rafter, gRace, renew, gRace; D: David, deck, do, ridge, guilD; B: Branch, bough, blood bad, ridge, riB.
There is the contrast of the Rod and Branch versus the “flesh and blood bag” (which is a ghastly image).
In line 25, Taylor puts the emphasis on Branch, by placing it immediately after the pause and beginning the second half of the stanza with a trochee rather than iamb: BRANCH of his BOUGH.
Thou Rod of David’s root, Branch of his bough (25)
My Lord, repair thy palace. Deck thy place.
I’m but a flesh and blood bag; Oh! Do thou
Still, plate, ridge, rib, and rafter me with grace.
Renew my soul, and guild it all within:
And hang thy saving grace on every pin. (30)
The prayer is direct, “Repair thy palace.” He gives details of the repair which must be done in lines 28-30:
Still, plate, ridge, rib, and rafter me with grace.
Renew my soul, and guild it all within:
And hang thy saving grace on every pin
Every element is to be remade “hang thy saving grace on every pin.” The revision is to be total.
The reference to Christ as a “branch” has prophetic warrant. In Isaiah 11, we read:
Isaiah 11:1–2 (AV)
1 And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a Branch shall grow out of his roots: 2 And the spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the LORD;
The Branch from the stem of Jesse (King David’s father) is plainly the Lord.
Jeremiah 33:14–16 (AV)
14 Behold, the days come, saith the LORD, that I will perform that good thing which I have promised unto the house of Israel and to the house of Judah. 15 In those days, and at that time, will I cause the Branch of righteousness to grow up unto David; and he shall execute judgment and righteousness in the land. 16 In those days shall Judah be saved, and Jerusalem shall dwell safely: and this is the name wherewith she shall be called, The LORD our righteousness.
The prophetic references to Christ as the “Branch” are in the context of the coming of Christ are both in the context of the restoration and repair the Christ (the anointed one) will bring. The full context of the Isaiah prophecy reads:
Isaiah 11:1–9 (AV)
1 And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a Branch shall grow out of his roots: 2 And the spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the LORD; 3 And shall make him of quick understanding in the fear of the LORD: and he shall not judge after the sight of his eyes, neither reprove after the hearing of his ears: 4 But with righteousness shall he judge the poor, and reprove with equity for the meek of the earth: and he shall smite the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips shall he slay the wicked. 5 And righteousness shall be the girdle of his loins, and faithfulness the girdle of his reins. 6 The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them. 7 And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together: and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. 8 And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice’ den. 9 They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain: for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD, as the waters cover the sea.
The theme of repair also has prophetic background. The repair comes after there has been a lapse. Thus, Elijah calls the people to repair the altar of the Lord which was torn down in the time of Baal worship (1 Kings 18:30); the repair of the temple by King Jehoash (2 Kings 12) after the usurpation of Athaliah; the repair of the temple by Josiah after the wicked rule of Amon (2 Kings 22); the repair of Jerusalem under Nehemiah after the return from exile.
Thus, this prayer of Taylor has deep biblical roots: He calls upon the Branch to repair the palace of God, the manner of the Kings and prophets who repaired temple and altar.
The next three stanzas add more detail to the prayer of repair.
In this next stanza, the musical effect is upon the assonance, particularly the “o’s”: soul, Lord, floor, o’re, orient, o’re, gold, glorious; and alliteration of p’s and g’s. The words of this stanza must be voiced to be appreciated.
My soul, Lord, make thy shining temple, pave
Its floor all o’re with orient grace: thus gild
It o’re with heaven’s gold: its cabins have
Thy treasuries with choicest thoughts up filled
Portray thy glorious image all about (35)
Upon thy temple wall within and out.
The general tenor of the prayer is plain: make this a golden palace. But of special interest are lines 34-36. Asking to be gilded by God does not have a plain reference in the life of a man. What does it mean to be “gilded”. He gives details here: First, it concerns the nature of his psychological life: it is to be filled with choice thoughts. He is asking specifically for a rational revision of his thought life.
Second, he asks that the image of God by made plain in him. This prayer is from Colossians:
Colossians 3:9–10 (AV)
9 Lie not one to another, seeing that ye have put off the old man with his deeds; 10 And have put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him:
The Christian is being renewed after the image of God – which is in in Christ. He is asking to be like Jesus. The renewal is a life which is wholly remade in the image of God, which here would be seen in the way in which he thinks (and thus lives).
The next specific prayer is taken from Ephesians 6 in a well-known passage about “spiritual warefare”:
Ephesians 6:10–17 (AV)
10 Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. 11 Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. 12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. 13 Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. 14 Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; 15 And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; 16 Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. 17 And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God:
Taylor reworks that imagery into a prayer as follows:
Garnish thy hall with gifts, Lord, from above
With that rich coat of mail thy righteousness
Truth’s belt, the Spirit’s sword, the buckler love
Hope’s helmet, and the shield of faith kept fresh.
The scutcheons of thy honor my sign.
As garland tuns are badges made of wine.
The last line is a bit difficult: a “tun” is a large barrel of wine. A garland tun would be a garlanded barrel. I assume this is a reference to festivity.
The last stanza partakes of two biblical allusions. First, the motto for the poem, 2 Corinthians 5:17 (AV) “Therefore if any man bein Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”
The second reference is from David’s great prayer of repentance in Psalm 51:
Psalm 51:9–11 (AV)
9 Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities. 10 Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. 11 Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy holy spirit from me.
Note the repeated use of the word “new/renew” in this stanza:
New mold, new make me thus, me new create
Renew in me a spirit right, pure, true.
Lord make me thy new creature, then new make
All things of thy new creature here anew.
New heart, new thoughts, new words, new ways likewise.
New glory then shall to thyself arise.
A new heart is the great promise of the new covenant (which the Branch brings about). And all things “new” is the great eschatological promise:
Revelation 21:1–5 (AV)
1 And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea. 2 And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 3 And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God. 4 And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. 5 And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful.
And so the renewal of one’s spirit in this life points to the eschatological new creation when all is made new.
Here is another level of the mystery and paradox of the Christ. His death upon the Cross was meant to maximize the shame he would experience: the death was degrading. It was made as public as possible, not merely to terrorize the populace (you will be next!) but to degrade the subject: you are utterly without power against the Roman government.
And yet, upon his resurrection, those wounds which he still bears in his body, are his greatest ornament of power and praise. The rulers of the world did their worst and he overcame – not merely the men who attacked him but also the death itself. And in conquering death and bearing the penalty for sin he overcame the curse God had laid upon creation for the sin of Adam.
There is another paradox here: not merely the paradox of power and glory in shame and weakness, but also the paradox of beauty. Isaiah 53:2 says of the coming messiah:
He had no form or beauty that we should look at him
And no beauty that we should desire him.
And yet, in his conquering, the Lord has become beautiful: the evil poured upon him turned to praise, honor and glory. As David prays in Psalm 27:4
One thing I have asked of the Lord
That I will seek after
That I may dwell in the house of the Lord
All the days of my life
To gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
And to inquire in his temple
And so Taylor, looking upon the broken Christ who wounds heal stops in the middle of mediation to praise the beauty of the Lord:
Oh! Lovely one! How doth thy loveliness
Beam through the crystal casement of the eyes (20)
Of saints and angels sparkling flakes of fresh
Heart ravishing beauty, filling up their joys?
And th’devils too; if envy’s pupils stood
Not peeping there these sparkling rays t’exclude?
This stanza is, for Taylor, rather straightforward. The beauty of Christ beams through the eye: The understanding being that rather than light reflecting the object gives off its radiance. This beauty is such that it is “heart ravishing” – it is also a beauty that creates joy in the one who sees the beauty.
But there is something interesting here: Envy makes it impossible to see and enjoy this beauty. That is an interesting observation: rather than rejoicing in the beauty – which is a proper response to beauty – the devils look upon the sight of Christ with envy for his greatness and rather than rejoicing in the sight they experience envy. The envy in the one seeing the beauty blots out the sight of beauty.
Envy’s pupil peeps out (not the alliteration on the “p”) and excludes the sight of beauty.
There is something here for us to understand about human nature too.
The third stanza resolves the issue of whether the poet refers to himself (or humanity generally) or to Christ:
But yet thou stem of David’s stock when dry
And shriveled held, although most generous green was lopt
Whose sap a sovereign solder is, whereby
The breach repaired is in which it’s dropped.
Oh gracious twig! Thou cut off? Bleed rich juice
T’cement the breach, and glory’s shine reduce?
The “stem of David’s stock” can only refer to Jesus, who is the “Son of David” par excellence (“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me” Mark 10:47).
The language of “stock” is a metaphor for a descendent. Thus, the development of the image of this stock=tree in terms of being dry or green sounds as if the poet were merely developing the metaphor at greater length. This is true, but there is also a direct reference to the words of Jesus in this same context.
There is a scene recorded in Luke’s Gospel of a conversation Jesus has with some women while being marched to Golgotha to be crucified:
Luke 23:27–31 (KJV)
27 And there followed him a great company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented him. 28 But Jesus turning unto them said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children. 29 For, behold, the days are coming, in the which they shall say, Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bare, and the paps which never gave suck. 30 Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us; and to the hills, Cover us. 31 For if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?
Thus the green tree cut, “although most generous green was lopt.” There is one further allusion contained within these lines:
Isaiah 53:2 (KJV)
2 For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant,
And as a root out of a dry ground:
He hath no form nor comeliness;
And when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.
The concept here is that Christ is a green branch that was cut down and then dried as its sap runs out.
The sap is a “sovereign solder”, a means of sealing together two broken parts. The sap in this instance is the blood of Christ lost in crucifixion.
What is not immediately clear from the poem is what the solder repairs. The first two stanzas speak of a ruined palace/image. A palace is not repaired by means of a solder. The image of a solder repairs a break between two things.
The image of solder seems to be drawn from (1) the sap=blood; (2) the break of the branch which bleeds; (3) and then the healing of the branch. The sap from the breach in the branch becomes the solder which heals the branch.
Taylor does something fascinating here. The branch itself is healed by means of the sap which runs from the breach:
Whose sap a sovereign solder is, whereby
The breach repaired is in which it’s dropped.
Oh gracious twig! Thou cut off? Bleed rich juice
T’cement the breach, and glory’s shine reduce?
In particular note, “Bleed rich juice/T’cement the breach”. The blood spent heals the wound which caused the bleeding. This makes for a fascinating theological point.
The death of Christ heals the breach between God and Man. In the body of Christ, the bridge and the breach between God and Man are manifest: Christ is God and Man, the mediator between the two. The death of the mediator heals the breach.
But there is another level at work in Taylor’s poem: The death of Christ, the wounding of his body is the breach between God and Man. The cross is an assault upon God.
This is brought out by Psalm 2 which is a commentary upon the death of Christ:
Psalm 2:1–6 (KJV)
1 Why do the heathen rage,
And the people imagine a vain thing?
2 The kings of the earth set themselves,
And the rulers take counsel together,
Against the Lord, and against his anointed, saying,
3 Let us break their bands asunder,
And cast away their cords from us.
4 He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh:
The Lord shall have them in derision.
5 Then shall he speak unto them in his wrath,
And vex them in his sore displeasure.
6 Yet have I set my king
Upon my holy hill of Zion.
The nations attack the Lord in the person of Christ, thinking to free themselves. But in so doing, rather than prevailing, they are witnesses to a coronation; the cross is a throne seen from the right perspective.
Taylor is working on this paradox with these lines: The wound is healed by the blood which flows from the wound. The death of Christ pays for the sin of killing Christ. The breaking of the body of the one who stands between God and Man heals the breach between God and Man.
Taylor underscores the surprise of the breach being the repair by means of the meter:
Oh GRACious twig! THOU CUT-OFF? BLEED rich JUICE
The excess accented syllables requires one to show down to even say the words.
Finally, Taylor makes good use of alliteration of D’s and S’s:
But yet thou stem of David’sstock when dry
And shriveled held, although most generous green was lopt
The second stanza is perhaps the most difficult in the poem in that here the ambiguity of reference is focused. It looks upon the ruined imaged and speaks of the heavenly sorrow at the tremendous loss:
What pity ‘s this? Oh! Sunshine art! What fall?
Thou that wast more glorious than glory’s wealth.
More golden far than gold! Lord, on whose wall
Thy scutcheons hung, the image of thyself!
It’s ruined, and must rue, though angels should
To hold it up heave while their heart strings hold.
What pity is this: What a thing is here to pity.
Sunshine art must refer to the original, before it fell. Since Taylor was writing from a rural place in a Northern latitude during the “Little Ice Age,” a reference to sunshine would be especially potent.
He is looking upon the ruined image which was “more glorious than glory’s wealth./More golden far than gold!” Rhythmically, note the inversion of the iamb to a trochee at the beginning of line 8:
THOU that was MORE GLORiou.
The inversion of the “normal” order forces attention upon the “thou”. He focuses our attention upon the lost image.
Jonathan Edwards who was a generation after Taylor, but whose father knew Taylor, writes of God’s glory in Christ (in the funeral sermon for David Brainerd) with similar imagery:
Their beatifical vision of God is in Christ; who is that brightness or effulgence of God’s glory, by which his glory shines forth in heaven, to the view of saints and angels there, as well as here on earth. This is the Sun of Righteousness, which is not only the light of this world, but is also the sun which enlightens the heavenly Jerusalem; by whose bright beams the glory of God shines forth there, to the enlightening and making happy of all the glorious inhabitants. “The Lamb is the light thereof; and so the Glory of God doth lighten it,” Rev. 21:23. No one sees God the Father immediately. He is the King eternal, immortal, invisible. Christ is the Image of that invisible God, by which he is seen by all elect creatures. The only begotten Son who is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him and manifested him. No one has ever immediately seen the Father, but the Son; and no one else sees the Father in any other way, than by the Son’s revealing him.
Jonathan Edwards, The Works of President Edwards (New York: S. Converse, 1829), 459.
The wall is the thus the human being created to display the image of God. God’s image was hung upon the walls. There are shields upon the walls which show the coat of arms of this royal family. But now it houses a treasonous family.
The closing couplet (lines 11-12) are difficult in terms of their reference:
It’s ruined, and must rue, though angels should
To hold it up heave while their heart strings hold.
“It’s ruined” must refer to the house whose walls bear the image (or at least should do so). But what are we to make of “must rue.” Is that the house should rue it’s loss? Apparently so. But it could also be taken as a cohortative to the reader, you should rue this loss. Both are possible here.
Angels are sent hold up house. This seems to be an oblique reference to Hebrews 1:14, where angels are explained to be ministering spirits sent out to care for those human beings who will inherit salvation on the basis of Christ’s work.
We could also read this entire stanza as a reference to Christ in his passion, where he was struck down, killed and buried. This removes much of the ambiguity of the stanza in-and-of itself. The reader sees this destruction and is called upon the rue the loss of such beauty, while the angels attend to the Savior. And it is angels who “long to look” into this salvation: a salvation which was granted to humanity but not to angels. 1 Peter 1:12.
As noted above, this ambiguity of reference makes theological sense because the image of God which is superlatively in Jesus Christ is by imitation the property of redeemed humanity. In 2 Corinthians 3:18, Paul writes that as the redeemed behold glory of the Lord, the redeemed are transformed into the image which they behold:
2 Corinthians 3:18 (KJV)
But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.
Thus, that image is both Christ and also the property of renewed humanity.
There is also reference to the First Adam, Adam of Genesis 2 who was created in the image of God and so quickly rebelled against his place of honor.
This poem contains an interesting ambiguity in the way in the precise focus of poem is in places difficult to find. The overall thrust of the poem is a prayer that the Lord would repair the ruined palace of the human being. It is a prayer that the Lord would make the poet into something new
Lord, make me thy new creature. (line 45). Which comes from the text for the meditation, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature.” 2 Cor. 5:17.
The “palace” in need of repair is the human being. The ambiguity comes about by the unclear focus as to whether it is the poet or Christ who is immediately in view. To call the poet himself “the stateliest palace angels e’er did view” (3) seems wrong. That would necessarily be Christ, himself.
It would also be appropriate to write that the palace had been spoiled by an enemy. In Isaiah 52:14, the prophet writes that “his visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of man.”
In the second stanza, the poet writes
Thou wast more glorious than glory’s wealth. (8)
Again, this would be more appropriately addressed to Christ, than to read this as the poet writing thus of himself fin the second person.
But then in line 26, Taylor writes
My Lord, repair thy palace.
And the remainder of the poem unambiguously reckons the poet to be the palace to be repaired, with the prayer to be made a new creature being the sum of that prayer. The deliberate use of the word “palace” then brings us back to the first stanza and the reference to “the stateliest palace”. It is possible the move referenes to two separate palaces.
But I suspect that Taylor is doing something else. The palace is the image of God which is the purpose and the created nature of each human being (“the image of thyself”). Jesus is the perfect representation of that image; human beings who were created to accurately reflect that image are now spoiled and need to be remade to display that image.
The ambiguity which runs in this poem in his moving between apparent references to Christ and then to the poet can be sorted by using Colossians 3:10 as a key:
And we have put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him.
In Colossians 1:16 Paul identifies the creator as Christ, “For by him all things were created.” And in verse 15, Paul identified Christ as “the image of the invisible God.”
The ambiguity in the poem as to the reference of the palace being renewed lies in the identification of the Christian with Christ. I think that Taylor is playing off of this identification and purposefully creating an ambiguity of a dual reference. This is inherent in text for the poem. Consider:
Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature.
To be “in Christ” is to be the “new creature”. What appertains to Christ becomes in a manner impressed upon the creature in Christ. This identification of the individual believer with Christ lies at the heart of this poem.
The first stanza sets up the problem:
The daintiest draft thy pencil ever drew
The finest vessel, Lord, thy fingers framed
The stateliest palace angels e’er did view
Under thy hatch betwixt decks here contained
Broke, marred, spoiled, undone, defiled doth lie
In rubbish ruined by thine enemy.
It begins with a series of three parallel descriptions of the object of the poem: “The daintiest draft”, “the finest vessel,” “the stateliest palace.” Dainty no longer carries the same connotation as it did for Taylor, but the meaning is apparent by looking at the parallel construction: This is the finest which could be. To call a human being a “draft” (a drawing) is an interesting play on the concept of “image.”
A vessel and palace likewise make sense as that bears or displays something greater.
As we have previously considered, the reference is ambiguous in that it appears to refer to Christ (who would be the greatest of all examples) and yet the reference in the end will be to Taylor and his prayer to be remade.
The fourth line creates a nearly impossible combination of metaphors: this draft, vessel, palace, is now stowed between the decks of a ship. A draft could easily fit below deck, but to put a ship or even more strangely a palace below deck is impossible. Perhaps the use of the word “vessel” in line 2 suggested a return to a ship in line 4.
This for Taylor must have been a vivid image, when we realize that he had taken a ship from England to New England in the 17th century, which would have been a couple of months in a cramped tiny ship in the middle of the Atlantic. That many things must be been spoiled below decks on these trips in the salt water and bilge I take for granted.
And it is there in the depths of the vessel, churning on the sea, something of surpassing value. An enemy has thrown it into the bilge where is now ruined and sloshing in the half light.
a bilge pump
This is an apt image for the fallen human race; and for the head of the redeemed race, the Second Adam Christ as he was struck down at the cross.
And before leaving this stanza we should know the alliteration:
