And mayst be still more dear than formerlie Consider wel & wisely what the rod Wherewith thou art from yeer to yeer chastized Who wil not have his nurture be despized. Thou still hast in thee many praying saints, Of great account and precious with the Lord, And strive to please him both in deed & word. Cheer on, sweet souls; my heart is with you all, 35 40 45 1662. 1871 NEW ENGLAND ELEGIES - FROM UPON THE TOMB OF THE MOST REVEREND MR. JOHN COTTON LATE TEACHER OF THE CHURCH OF BOSTON IN NEW-ENGLAND (BY B. W.) A living breathing Bible: Tables where Both Covenants at large engraven were; Gospel and Law in 's Heart had each its Colume, His Head an Index to the Sacred Volume; His very Name a Title Page; and next, A man of Might at heavenly Eloquence To fix the Ear and charm the Conscience, As if Apollos were reviv'd in him 5 ΤΟ 1652? Spake many Tongues in one: one Voice and Sense 1669. LINES WRITTEN AT THE APPROACH OF DEATH (BY THOMAS DUDLEY) Dim Eyes, deaf Ears, cold stomack shew My dissolution is in view. Eleven times seven near liv'd have I, And, now God calls, I willing die. 15 20 25 5 To poyson all with Heresie and Vice. If men be left and otherwise combine, My Epitaph's, I dy'd no Libertine. 16537 20 1669. UPON OUR CHURCHES SECOND DARK ECLIPSE, HAPPENING JULY 20, 1663, BY DEATHS INTERPOSITION BETWEEN US AND THAT GREAT LIGHT AND DIVINE PLAN[E]T, MR. SAMUEL STONE, LATE OF HARTFORD IN NEW ENGLAND (BY E. B.) A Stone more then the Eben-ezer fam'd; As would not fail Goliah's Front to hit; A Stone an Antidote, that brake the course Of Gangrene Errour by Convincing force; 5 ΤΟ 1663? A Squared Stone became Christ's Building rare; 15 1669. FROM AN ELEGIE UPON THE DEATH OF THE Oh that I were a Poet now in grain! How would I invocate the Muses all To deign their presence, lend their flowing Vein, And help to grace dear Shepard's Funeral! How would I paint our griefs, and succours borrow 5 Now could I wish (if wishing would obtain) Here is a subject for the loftiest Verse And could my Pen ingeniously distill I should think all too little to condole Could I take highest Flights of Fancy, soar Aloft, If Wits Monopoly were mine, All would be much too low, too light, too poor, To pay due tribute to this great Divine. Ah, Wit avails not when th' Heart's like to break; His Look commanded Reverence and Awe, Well Humour'd was He (as I ever saw), And rul'd by Love and Wisdome more than Fear. To set forth this Rare Piece to be admir'd. He govern'd well the Tongue (that busie thing, Gravely Reserv'd, in Speech not lavishing, Neither too sparing nor too liberal; His Words were few, well season'd, wisely weigh'd, 35 And in his Tongue the Law of kindness sway'd. Learned he was beyond the common Size; Befriended much by Nature in his Wit And Temper (Sweet, Sedate, Ingenious, Wise); Wise He, not wily, was; Grave, not Morose; (Strange if he had!); and would not wast an Hour; Thoughtful and Active for the common good, And yet his own place wisely understood. 45 See where our Sister Charlstown sits and Moans! 50 Charlstown, that might for joy compare of late As you have seen some Pale, Wan, Ghastly look, 55 So Visag'd is poor Charlstown at this day; Cambridge groans under this so heavy cross, 60 40 |