Selected quad for the lemma: sin_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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B09610
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An elegie upon the death of the Reverend Mr. Thomas Shepard, late teacher of the church at Charlstown in New-England: / By a great admirer of his worth, and true mourner for his death.
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Oakes, Urian, 1631-1681.
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1677
(1677)
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Wing O20; ESTC W35896
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4,808
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16
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AN ELEGIE UPON The Death of the Reverend Mr. THOMAS SHEPARD Late Teacher of the Church at Charlstown in New-England By a great Admirer of his Worth and true Mourner for his Death Isai 57. 1. The righteous perisheth and no man layeth it to heart and merciful men are taken away none considering that the righteous is taken away from the evil to come Zech. 1. 5 6. Your Fathers where are they And the Prophets do they live for ever but my words and my statutes which I commanded my servants the Prophets did they not take hold of your Fathers Heb. 13 7. Remember them which had the rule over you who have spoken unto you the word of God whose Faith follow considering the end of their conversation CAMBRIDGE Printed by Samuel Green 1677. To the Reader 1 REader I am no Poet but I grieve Behold here what that passion can do That forc'd a verse without Apollo's leave And whether th' Learned Sisters would or no My Griefs can hardly speak my sobbing Muse In broken terms our sad bereavement rues 2 I wonder what the learned World still ailes To tune and pace their sorrows and complaints In Rhythm and Verse He that his crosses wailes Indeed would vent his griefs without restraints To tye our grief to numbers mâ—asures feet Is not to let it loose but fetter it 3 Is this it that a Poets softer heart Of great impressions susceptible is He wisely doth perform his mourning part In Verse lest grief should time and measure miss But griefs unmeasurable would not be Curb'd and rein'd-in by measur'd Poetry 4 Stop stop my Pen lest Israel's singer sweet Should be condemn'd who in that Song of th' Bow To vent his passionate complaints thought meet And to bewail his great Friends overthrow King David in an Elegiack Knell Rung out his dolours when dear Jona'than fell 5 No matter what 's the trifling Poets Vse Th' Imperious Law of custome we deride We have Diviner Warrant to produce The Soveraign Sacred Poet is our guide He wept his Friend in verse then let us try Now Shepard's faln to write his Elegy AN ELEGIE Upon that Reverend Learned Eminently Pious and Singularly Accomplished Divine my ever Honoured BROTHER Mr. THOMAS SHEPARD The late Faithful and Worthy Teacher of the Church of Christ at Charlstown in New-England Who finished his Course on Earth and went to receive his Crown December 22. 1677. In the 43d Year of his Age. 1 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 From Art and Fancy to limn out our sorrow 2 Now could I wish if wishing would obtain The sprightli'est Efforts of Poetick Rage To vent my Griess make others feel my pain For this loss of the Glory of our Age. Here is a subject for the loftiest Verse That ever waited on the bravest Hearse 3 And could my Pen ingeniously distill The purest Spirits of a sparkling wit In rare conceits the quintessence of skill In Elegiack Strains none like to it I should think all too little to condole The fatal loss to us of such a Soul 4 Could I take highest Flights of Fancy foar Alost 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 Great griefs are Tongue ti'ed when the lesser speak 5 Away loose rein'd Careers of Poetry The celebrated Sisters may be gone We need no Mourning Womens Elegy No forc'd affected artificial Tone Great and good Shepard's Dead Ah! this alone Will set our eyes abroach dissolve a stone 6 Poetick Raptures are of no esteem Daring Hyperboles have here no place Luxuriant Wits on such a copious Theme Would shame themselves and blush to shew their face Here 's worth enough to overmatch the skill Of the most stately Poet Laureat's Quill 7 Exube'rant Fancies useless here I deem Transcendent vertue scorns feign'd Elogies He that gives Shepard half his due may seem If Strangers hear it to Hyperbolize Let him that can tell what his vertues were And say this Star mov'd in no common Sphere 8 Here need no Spices Odours curious Arts No skill of Egypt to embalm the Name Of such a Worthy let men speak their hearts They 'l say He merits an Immortal Fame When Shepard is forgot all must conclude Thâ—â— is prodigious ingratitude 9 But live he shall in many a gratefull Breast VVhere he hath rear'd himself a Monument A Monument more stately than the best On which Immensest Treasures have been spent Could you but into th' Hearts of thousands peep There would you read his Name engraven deep 10 Oh! that my head were VVaters and mine Eyes A flowing Spring of Tears still issuing forth In streams of bitterness to solemnize The Obits of this Man of matchless worth Next to the Tears our sins do need and crave I would bestow my Tears on Shepards Grave 11 Not that he needs our Tears for he hath dropt His measure full not one Tear more shall fall Into God's Bottle from his eyes Death stopt That water-course his sorrows ending all He Fears he Cares he Sighs he Weeps no more Hee 's past all storms Arriv'd at th'wished Shoar 12 Dear Shepard could we reach so high a strain Of pure Seraphick lâ—ve as to devest Our selves and love of self-râ—spâ—cts thy gain Would joy us though it cross our interest Then would we silence all complaints with this Our Dearest Friend is doubtless gâ—ne to Bliss 13 Ah! but the Lesson's hard thus to deny Our own dear selves to part with such a Loan Of Heaven in time of such pecessity And love thy comforts better than our own Then let us moan our loss adjourn our glee Till we come thither to rejoice with thee 14 As when some formidable Comets blaze As when Portentous Prodigies appear Poor Mortals with amazement stand and gaze With hearts affâ—ighted and with trembling fear So are we all amazed at this blow Sadly portending some approaching woe 15 We shall not summon bold Astrologers To tell us what the Stars say in the case Those Cousin-Germans to black Conjurers We have a sacred Oracle that says When th'Righteous perish men of mercy go It is a sure presage of coming wo. 16 He was ah woful word to say he was Our wrestling Israel second unto none The man that stood i' th gâ—p to keep the pass To stop the Troops of Judgements â—ushing on This Man the honour had to hold the hand Of an incensed God against our Land 17 When such a Pillar 's faln Oh such an one When such a glorious shining Light 's put out When Chariot and Horsemen thus are gone Well may we fear some Downfal Darkness Rout. When such a Bank's broke down there 's fad occasion To wail and dread some grievous Inundation 18 What!