Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets With variety of other drolling Verses upon several Subjects. Composed by no body must know whom, and are to be had every body knows where, and for somebody knows what [by John Eliot] |
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An Elegy on the death of a schoole-Master.
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 | Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets |  |
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An Elegy on the death of a schoole-Master.
Must he dye thus? has an eternall sleepSeiz'd on each Muse that it can't sing nor weep?
Had he no freinds? no merits? or no purse?
To purchase mourning? Or had he that curse
Which has the scraping Worldling still frequented
To live unlov'd and perish unlamented.
No; none of these; But in this Atlas fall
Learning for present found its funerall.
Nor was't for want of grief, but scope and vent,
Not sullenness, but strong deep astonishment.
Small griefs are but soon wept out great ones come
With bulk, and strike the straight lamenters dumb.
This was the scoolmaster, that did derive
From parts and piety's preogative.
The glory of that good, but painfull art
Who had high learning yet an humble heart.
The Drake of Grammer learning, whose great pain
Circled that globe, and made that voyage plain.
Time was, when th'artless pædagogue did stand,
With his vimineous scepter in his hand.
Raging like Bajazet or'e the 'tugging fry,
Who though unhorsd' were not of th'infantry;
Applying, like a glister, hic, hæc hoc,
Till the poor Lad's beat to a whipping block;
And hold so long to know a Verb and Nown
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As if not fit to learn As in præsenti
But legally, when they were one and twenty.
Those few that went to th'Universt'ys then
Went with deliberation, and were men.
Nor were our Academies in those dayes
Fill'd with Chuck-farthing Batchelours and boyes
But schollers with more beard and age went hence,
Then our new lapwing-Lectrers skip from thence.
By his industrious labour now we see
Boys coated borne to'th'Universitie
Who suck'd in Latin, and did scorn to seek
Their scourge and top in English but in Greek.
Hebrew the generall puzler of old heads
Which the gray Dunce with pricks and comments reads
And dubs himselfe a schollar by it, grew
As naturall t'him as if he'd been a Jew.
But above all he timely did inspire
His Childrens breasts with an ætherial fire.
And sanctifi'd their early learning so,
That they in grace, as they in wit did grow:
Yet nor his grace nor learning could defend him,
From that mortality that did attend him.
Nor can there now be any difference known
Between his learned bones and those with none.
For that grand Lev'ler death hudles t'one place
Rich, poor, wise, foolish, noble and the base.
This only is our comfort and defence,
He was not immaturely ravish'd hence.
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Undying fame and honour, let alone,
Till he had finish'd what he was to do,
Then naturally split himselfe in Two.
And that's one cause he had so few moyst eys,
He made men learned and that made them wise.
And overrule their passions, since they see
Tears would but shew their own infirmity.
And 'tis but loving madness to deplore
The fate of him, that shall be seen no more.
But only I cropt in my tender years,
Without or tongue, or wit, but sighs and Tears;
And yet I come to offer what is mine,
An immolation to his honour'd shrine.
And retribute what he confer'd on me
Either to's person or his memorie.
Rest pious soul and let that happie grave
That is intrusted with thy Relicks, have
This just inscription, that it holds the dust
Of one that was Wise, learned, pious, just.
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