Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A61259
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A poem on the death of the Reverend Mr. John Weekes late pastor to a congregation in Bristol, who dyed Nouemb. the 23d. 1698. Ætat. 65. By Mr. Standen.
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Standen, Joseph.
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1699
(1699)
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Wing S5203B; ESTC R221859
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2,521
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17
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A POEM On the Death of the Reverend Mr. Iohn Weekes Late Pastor to a Congregation in Bristol Who Dyed Novemb. the 23d 1698. Aetat 65. By Mr. STANDEN Dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori Horat. BRISTOL Printed and Sold by W. Bonny on the Back 1699. A POEM On the Death of the Reverend Mr. John Weekes WHen pow'rful Shades had chas'd the chearing Light And the chill Horrours of the gloomy Night Invaded all the dusky Hemisphere And sable Atoms fill'd the lowring Air. When deepest Silence weary Eyes did close And tempted Mortals to a soft repose In troubled thoughts and Dreams abrupt I lay In vain retir'd from the noisy Day I wak't 'till ominous Sleep return'd agên And to my eyes appear'd the dismal Scene Methought I saw the Great Philander lie His dear Irene pale and weeping by Each Face but his a setled Grief did wear And all the Symptoms of a black Despair The force of long Disease could not controul The Life and vigour of his generous Soul Nor all the Terrours of approaching Death Could force a Murmur from his parting Breath Through all the rising Shades of Death I saw Remaining Beams of Majesty and Awe Undaunted Courage fixt and Joy serene And growing hopes of dawning Glory seen As when behind an Occidental cloud The Sun does all his Ev'ning Lustre shrowd As he descends down to the Western Flood Yet through the watry Veil appearing fair With scatter'd Beams does gild the yielding Air. So scorn'd he Terrors past and those behind Could not eclipse the beauty of his Mind And now the dreadful Shades more thick approach And on expiring vital Breath encroach And after all in hast came close behind The Universal Terror of Mankind The meagre Tyrant strait advancing nigh Insulting lifts his fatal Javelin high Thrice he essay'd to strike and thrice recoil'd Afraid such awful Goodness to behold Seem'd brib'd with Virtue tho' ne'er brib'd with Gold The Sons of Hell with eager Joy he 'd seize With Carnage vast his hungry Maw t' appease Who are condemn'd when spent their latest breath To endless pains and ever-living Death On these his fierce resistless Rage he shows By these his vast extended Empire grows But seems unwilling to release the Just And send their dying Remnants down to Dust And their refined Souls all gay and bright To the glad Realms of Joy and endless Light Thus lingring long the King of Terrors stood Nor wisht to spill the Rev'rend Prophet's Blood 'Till urg'd by the Almighty's Sov'rain Hand Who over Death has absolute Command Into the willing Breast his Dart he flings Depriv'd of all its Flames and all its Stings He bows his head and yields without controul And in a gentle Sigh he breath'd his Soul The fatal Moment past without relief I sunk beneath the pond'rous load of Grief The mighty Sorrows in my Bosom pent Impetuous rose too big for Tears to vent From off my Head the gaudy Wreath I tore Which for the dear Almeria's sake I wore By her own hands fresh twin'd not long before A gelid Horror struck my trembling Heart And more than He I felt the Mortal Dart. As when loud Thunders breaking from on high And forked Lightnings through the flaming Sky With massy Bolts the Rocks and Mountains tear And fill around th' astonisht World with fear The Earth convulst with hideous crashing breaks Recoils and frighted to the Centre shakes To started back my Soul 'till now unmov'd Though oft th' efforts of angry Fate I prov'd Sorrows on Sorrows rowl'd and sore opprest The sinking Powers of my wounded Breast 'Till looking upwards to the Radiant Skies More joyous Objects met my wondring Eyes A Tract of Light appear'd serene and fair And shining Glory blazon'd all the Air Up to the Verge of Heav'n and Chrystal Gate At whose bright Entrance flaming Seraphs wait And all the way by Heav'ns dread King's command Arrang'd in close and beauteous order stand On either side the numerous faithful Band Nor dreaded they proud Lucifer's alarms With massy golden Shields and lucent Arms. And in the midst up to the blest Abode The Glorious Saint all in gay Triumph rode High mounted on a gorgeous Chariot bright Whose dazling splendor crusht the wounded sight Saluted as he pass'd the Heav'nly Crowd With shouts of Joy and Hallelujahs loud Thus through the Air the dark confines of Hell Where the faln Spirits and swarthy Daemons dwell They swiftly pass'd while trembling far away Th' Infernal Legions fled th' approach of Day And mad with Envy gnashing from afar They groveling prostrate lay in pannick fear And foam'd and rag'd and shook their Snaky hair Mean while the pompous Triumph made its way To the fair Entrance of Eternal Day Ten thousand thousand Angel-Trumpets sound And the vast Realms of Heav'n all eccho'd round My feeble Sight no longer could pursue The glorious Vision now beyond my View This Scene a while my Sorrows did restrain 'Till all the gloomy Thoughts return'd again In vain alas I rov'd from place to place My Terrors with my flight kept equal pace I wander'd to a Grove whose darksome shade Might seem a fit Recess for Sorrow made Where in the midst a Temple great appear'd With lofty Head on Dorick Pillars rear'd Whose wide and open Portals did display A vast Assembly on the solemn Day The solemn Day when from the sable Chair With Artless Sighs and with a mournful Air Divine Cleander to the Crowd addrest With Voice and Gesture Passion deep exprest And stirr'd fresh Grief in ev'ry troubled Breast For as the vast and publick Loss he show'd From numerous Eyes the briny Currents flow'd In pensive Shades from hence retir'd I sate And thus I mourn'd inexorable Fate Farewel Farewel the Dearest and the Best From this vain World gone up to endless Rest The brav'st the faithful'st Friend I ever knew Always caressing and yet always true No more shall I behold that chearful Face Nor see that awful Majesty and Grace No more the charming Prophet's Voice attend And Pray'rs to Heav'n no more together send No more shall he sad Hearts with Joy inspire Nor kindle frozen Souls with Heav'nly Fire No more shall he with Noblest Zeal possest Conduct the Righteous to Eternal Rest No more shall he pronounce the dreadful Word Nor brandish up aloft the flaming Sword The Sword of God nor tell the Joys above And all the Pleasures of that World of Love No more shall he the wicked Rage oppose Nor plead the Orphans and the Widdows Cause No more shall others Sorrows break his Rest No more shall help the Injur'd and Opprest No more shall we in sweet Converses walk No more of high Caelestial Wonders talk Untill the last Archangel-Trump shall sound To raise the sleeping Nations under Ground And the Great God in flaming Vengeance come To speak to all the World the final Doom Then may I see the Mighty Prophet's Face With a more God-like Air and Heav'nly Grace Then may We with redoubled Gladness meet May I his State with loud Applauses greet And sit beneath the Great Philander's Feet And now the gloomy Shades were chas't away And fled apace before the coming Day Yet blacker still the Scene of Horrour grew I wak't and found the fatal Vision true FINIS