 | A Funeral Poem on the Death of the Reverend and Learned Divine Mr. Richard Baxter |  |
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A Funeral Poem on the Death of the Reverend and Learned Divine Mr. Richard Baxter.
Tis a just Tribute paid, when we rehearse,
Immortal Worthies in Immortal Verse;
And mournful Cypress to Interments bring,
Whose Praises Angels write, and Cherubs sing:
Shou'd we Lament; and Mourners here commence,
'Twou'd break our Numbers, and confound our Sence;
Excessive Griefe all Harmony disturbs,
Distracts the Fancy, and the Humour curbs;
'Tis true, his Race he has too quickly run,
He rose too lately, and he sett too soon:
But Tallest Cedars in the verdant Grove,
Must stoop, when shook by the vast Pow'r above;
How good our Days are, and how long their Date,
Is writ in the Eternal Book of Fate;
The Sands of Life by Heav'ns Decrees do pass,
Nor dares Pale Death to move and shake the Glass:
We weep not with the vast admiring throng,
But thank the Deity he liv'd so long.
Immortal Worthies in Immortal Verse;
And mournful Cypress to Interments bring,
Whose Praises Angels write, and Cherubs sing:
Shou'd we Lament; and Mourners here commence,
'Twou'd break our Numbers, and confound our Sence;
Excessive Griefe all Harmony disturbs,
Distracts the Fancy, and the Humour curbs;
'Tis true, his Race he has too quickly run,
He rose too lately, and he sett too soon:
But Tallest Cedars in the verdant Grove,
Must stoop, when shook by the vast Pow'r above;
How good our Days are, and how long their Date,
Is writ in the Eternal Book of Fate;
The Sands of Life by Heav'ns Decrees do pass,
Nor dares Pale Death to move and shake the Glass:
We weep not with the vast admiring throng,
But thank the Deity he liv'd so long.
He was an Offspring from Great Levi's Stem,
Calvin and Luther were contain'd in Him;
All Truth's mysterious Paths to him were known,
And all the Virtues, that attend the Gown:
He made the Foes of Truth Submit and Yield,
And baffl'd Error in a Conquer'd Field;
His Passions never cou'd his Sence controul,
Nor prompt his Body to disturb his Soul:
No Great Preferments cou'd his Conscience bind,
Corrupt his Judgment, or Debauch his Mind;
For Minds resolv'd on Things above, bestow
A just disdain on empty Joys below.
Calvin and Luther were contain'd in Him;
All Truth's mysterious Paths to him were known,
And all the Virtues, that attend the Gown:
He made the Foes of Truth Submit and Yield,
And baffl'd Error in a Conquer'd Field;
His Passions never cou'd his Sence controul,
Nor prompt his Body to disturb his Soul:
No Great Preferments cou'd his Conscience bind,
Corrupt his Judgment, or Debauch his Mind;
For Minds resolv'd on Things above, bestow
A just disdain on empty Joys below.
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Hail Sacred Soul! freed from those Cares below,
And all the anxious Toils we undergo;
From Pain, and Anguish, and Ten Thousand Ills,
The Mortal Body in its Journey feels;
Dismiss'd from the vile Tenement of Clay,
Thy Mounting Soul cuts the Imperial Way;
Wing'd like a Cherub through the Æther flyes,
Where Joys are Born, and Humane Frailty Dyes:
There Baxter is Eternally Possest
Of what he Wrote, his Everlasting-Rest:
With vig'rous Eyes he views his Blest Abode,
A Bleeding Saviour, and a Smiling God.
The num'rous throng that their Blest God adore,
Large ranks of Saints he thither sent before;
What though he did of Dangers here partake,
And found a Prison for his Conscience sake,
Like his Great Master he the Cross hath born,
The Wisemens Envy, and the Wickeds Scorn:
But Scenes of Bliss, and unpolluted Joy,
All thoughts of past Calamities destroy.
And all the anxious Toils we undergo;
From Pain, and Anguish, and Ten Thousand Ills,
The Mortal Body in its Journey feels;
Dismiss'd from the vile Tenement of Clay,
Thy Mounting Soul cuts the Imperial Way;
Wing'd like a Cherub through the Æther flyes,
Where Joys are Born, and Humane Frailty Dyes:
There Baxter is Eternally Possest
Of what he Wrote, his Everlasting-Rest:
With vig'rous Eyes he views his Blest Abode,
A Bleeding Saviour, and a Smiling God.
The num'rous throng that their Blest God adore,
Large ranks of Saints he thither sent before;
What though he did of Dangers here partake,
And found a Prison for his Conscience sake,
Like his Great Master he the Cross hath born,
The Wisemens Envy, and the Wickeds Scorn:
But Scenes of Bliss, and unpolluted Joy,
All thoughts of past Calamities destroy.
Some of you Miter'd Heads with Honours Crown'd,
And you whose Temples are with Lawrel bound;
Who living are to Bishopricks prefer'd,
And are when Dead, with Kings and Queens Inter'd,
Where lasting Urns the Sacred Relicks keep,
Whilst their Dead Worthies most profoundly Sleep!
Can your Sepulchral Marble endure the rage
Of Envious Fame, or all-devouring Age?
When Time to ruine shall your Statues cast,
The Name of Baxter and his Fame shall last;
Whilst Saints are living, and his Volumes read,
They round the Orb his lasting Fame shall spread:
And if when Dead, Prophets Instruction give,
The Name of Baxter and his Fame shall live.
And you whose Temples are with Lawrel bound;
Who living are to Bishopricks prefer'd,
And are when Dead, with Kings and Queens Inter'd,
Where lasting Urns the Sacred Relicks keep,
Whilst their Dead Worthies most profoundly Sleep!
Can your Sepulchral Marble endure the rage
Of Envious Fame, or all-devouring Age?
When Time to ruine shall your Statues cast,
The Name of Baxter and his Fame shall last;
Whilst Saints are living, and his Volumes read,
They round the Orb his lasting Fame shall spread:
And if when Dead, Prophets Instruction give,
The Name of Baxter and his Fame shall live.
FINIS.
| A Funeral Poem on the Death of the Reverend and Learned Divine Mr. Richard Baxter | |