Make me, O Lord, thy Spining Wheele compleate.
Thy Holy Worde my Distaff make for mee.
Make mine Affections thy Swift Flyers neate
And make my Soule thy holy Spoole to bee.
My Conversation make to be thy Reele
And reele the yarn thereon spun of thy Wheele.
Make me thy Loome then, knit therein this Twine:
And make thy Holy Spirit, Lord, winde quills:
Then weave the Web thyselfe. The yarn is fine.
Thine Ordinances make my Fulling Mills.
Then dy the same in Heavenly Colours Choice,
All pinkt with Varnisht Flowers of Paradise.
Then cloath therewith mine Understanding, Will,
Affections, Judgment, Conscience, Memory
My Words, and Actions, that their shine may fill
My wayes with glory and thee glorify.
Then mine apparell shall display before yee
That I am Cloathd in Holy robes for glory.
Taylor, Edward. "Huswifery". 1684. March 2008 <http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/9569/>.
By the Student,
In this poem, the speaker goes from asking God of he can be the parts of the sewing machine to the speaker being the yarn for a robe to the speaker wearing the robe made out of the components of his soul for all eternity in heaven.
This is Puritan poetry because of the fixation on God and getting into heaven, along with making a symbolistic robe so he may have the good virtues that God gave him forever.
By a Young Girl,
Dear Diary,
I finished the poems by Ms. Bradstreet a little less than a week ago and since then have been tryin to find something that is worth your precious paper. This poem lives up to it as it concerns two of my favorite things: sewing and God.
I know a lot about both subjects, as I would suspect most women to, but a man wrote this! Imagine a man publishing a poem about sewing clothing...How queer.
Anyway, this is about creating a robe made from the essence of the soul to wear in Heaven forever. I have never heard of how eternity feels explained with such grace before and I love this poem because of it.
The house has settled back down again as I said that it would. My friend will begin teaching me arithmatic from his school soon, but we can not let the elders know because they think that women should not be educated. I can read and write better that most of them already, so it is not like we hold not the capacity for such knowledge without shoving other things out. I do not understand, but I also do not wish to make a commotion and hurt my family.
God's Grace,
Mary
Thy Holy Worde my Distaff make for mee.
Make mine Affections thy Swift Flyers neate
And make my Soule thy holy Spoole to bee.
My Conversation make to be thy Reele
And reele the yarn thereon spun of thy Wheele.
Make me thy Loome then, knit therein this Twine:
And make thy Holy Spirit, Lord, winde quills:
Then weave the Web thyselfe. The yarn is fine.
Thine Ordinances make my Fulling Mills.
Then dy the same in Heavenly Colours Choice,
All pinkt with Varnisht Flowers of Paradise.
Then cloath therewith mine Understanding, Will,
Affections, Judgment, Conscience, Memory
My Words, and Actions, that their shine may fill
My wayes with glory and thee glorify.
Then mine apparell shall display before yee
That I am Cloathd in Holy robes for glory.
Taylor, Edward. "Huswifery". 1684. March 2008 <http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/9569/>.
By the Student,
In this poem, the speaker goes from asking God of he can be the parts of the sewing machine to the speaker being the yarn for a robe to the speaker wearing the robe made out of the components of his soul for all eternity in heaven.This is Puritan poetry because of the fixation on God and getting into heaven, along with making a symbolistic robe so he may have the good virtues that God gave him forever.
By a Young Girl,
Dear Diary,
I finished the poems by Ms. Bradstreet a little less than a week ago and since then have been tryin to find something that is worth your precious paper. This poem lives up to it as it concerns two of my favorite things: sewing and God.
I know a lot about both subjects, as I would suspect most women to, but a man wrote this! Imagine a man publishing a poem about sewing clothing...How queer.
Anyway, this is about creating a robe made from the essence of the soul to wear in Heaven forever. I have never heard of how eternity feels explained with such grace before and I love this poem because of it.
The house has settled back down again as I said that it would. My friend will begin teaching me arithmatic from his school soon, but we can not let the elders know because they think that women should not be educated. I can read and write better that most of them already, so it is not like we hold not the capacity for such knowledge without shoving other things out. I do not understand, but I also do not wish to make a commotion and hurt my family.
God's Grace,
Mary
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