University of Virginia Library

Epigram 5. By way of consolation to his deare friend William Scot, on the death of his brother Gilman Scot.

Suffer mee (dearest friend) to bring a verse,
Though uninvited to attend the hearse:
Of him whose memory death cannot blot,
Since hee yet lives in thee (my friendly Scot)
I know the fertile soyle of his pure heart,
Gave warmth to every vertuous roote of Art.
And had the August of his age bin come,
Y'had seene him crown'd with a rich harvest home.
But now he's clouded, from your eyes to show,
That none but angels worthy are to know
What hee shall aged be: Oh! 'tis a fate
Worth your best thankes, that day deserves its date,
Be registred to glory, when heaven pleas'd
Him of his earthly flesh-encumbrance eas'd.
Yet dare you lose a teare? unlesse for joy,
That heaven in mercy gave him for the toy
Which wee call breath, a life that shall outlive,
What e're dull earth, or all your love could give.
I know the fates have lop't off from your tree
Many faire branches: which I doubt not bee
Againe, farre fairer than his muddy soyle,
Could suffer them to grow too: for the toyle
Of living was their trouble, but that care
They wisely did contemne, and so repaire
To that blest pallace, which for pious men
The maker fram'd, and now is opt agen
For this new entrance: do not then once more
Spend any uselesse teare, behold thy store
Of heavenly friends do seeme to smile and say,
Will, thou must follow, we but lead the way.
Which that thou maist, heaven fit thee with such grace,
As may prepare thee to that hallowed place,
Where thou with these shalt never cease to cry,
Hosanna: Glory be to God on high.