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183

[Samuel Arnold]

[_]

The attribution of this poem is uncertain.

1

Independents precise of late did devise
Of a Boatman

Mr. Arnold

to make a Divine

A Smith and a Planter

Ordinery lay-Brethren.

did make an Adventure

Their Wits and their Call to refine.

2

I wish he steer well his new Boat out of Hell
And that he Mistake not his port:
Or he will steer thither, or I know not whither,
If instead of Starboard, he port.

3

Our reverend Dea'n

Farmer

with his hands washed clean,

Laid them on our Pastors Head;
And gave him a Charge, which was so very large
That it struck him almost dead.

4

The other Dea'n

Blacksmith

was very whist

And on his Head he laid his Fist
But did not express either Word or Letter
And being in a Maze, put his hand out of place
Which indeed became the Anvil better.

5

[OMITTED]
Blind Zeal they had for their pretencment
Their Doctor they made and were not afraid,
By a strange and new fashioned Commencement.

186

Some OFFERS To Embalm the MEMORY of the Truly Reverend and Renowned, JOHN WILSON;

The First Pastor of Boston, in New England; Interr'd (and a Great Part of his Countries Glory with him) August. 11. 1667. Aged, 79.

[_]

The attribution of this poem is uncertain.

MIght Aarons Rod (such Funerals mayn't be Dry)
But broach the Rock, t'would gush pure Elegy,
To round the Wilderness with purling Layes,
And tell the World, the Great Saint WILSONS Praise.
Here's ONE, (Pearls are not in great clusters found)
Here's ONE, the Skill of Tongues and Arts had Crown'd;
Here's ONE (by frequent Martyrdome t'was Try'd)
That could forego Skill, Pelf, and Life beside,
For CHRIST: Both ENGLANDS Darling, whom in Swarms
They Press'd to See, and Hear, and felt his Charms.
Tis ONE, (when will it Rise to Number Two?)
The World at once can but ONE Phoenix Show:)
For Truth, a PAUL; CEPHAS, for Zeal; for Love,
A JOHN; inspir'd by the Celestial Dove.
ABRA'MS true Son for Faith; and in his Tent
Angels oft had their Table and Content.
So Humble, that alike on's Charity,
Wrought Extract Gent: with Extract Rudi.
Pardon this Fault; his Great Excess lay there,
He'd Trade for Heaven, with all he came anear;
His Meat, Clothes, Cash, heed still for Ventures send,
Consign'd, Per Brother Lazarus, his Friend.
Mighty in Prayer; his Hands Uplifted reach'd
Mercies High Throne, and thence strange Bounties fetch'd,
Once and again, and oft: So felt by all,
Who Weep his Death, as a Departing Paul.
All; Yea, Baptis'd with Tears, Lo, Children come,
(Their Baptism he maintain'd!) unto his Tomb.
'Twixt an Apostle, and Evangelist,
Let stand his Order in the Heavenly List.

187

Had we the Costly Alabaster Box,
What's Left, wee'd spend on this New-English KNOX;
True Knox, fill'd with that Great Reformers Grace,
In Truths Just cause, fearing no Mortals Face.
Christ's Word, it was his Life, Christs Church, his Care;
And so Great with him his Least Brethren were,
Not Heat, nor Cold, not Rain, or Frost, or Snow
Could hinder, but he'd to their Sermons go:
Aarons Bells chim'd from far, he'd Run, and then
His Ravish'd Soul Echo'd, AMEN, AMEN!
He traverst oft the fierce Atlantic Sea,
But, Patmos of Confessors, t'was for THEE.
This Voyage Lands him on the Wished shore,
From Whence this Father will return no more,
To fit the Moderator of thy Sages.
But, Tell his Zeal for thee, to After-Ages,
His Care to Guide his Flock, and feed his Lambs,
By Words, Works, Prayers, Psalms, Alms, and ANAGRAMS:
Those Anagrams, in which he made to Start
Out of meer Nothings, by Creating Art,
Whole Worlds of Counsil; did to Motes Unfold
Names, till they Lessons gave Richer than Gold,
And Every Angle so Exactly say,
It should out-shine the brightest Solar Ray.
Sacred his Verse, Writ with a Cherubs Quill;
But those Wing'd Choristers of Zion-Hill,
Pleas'd with the Notes, call'd him a part to bear,
With Them, where he his Anagram did hear,
I Pray Come in, Heartily Welcome; Sir.

191

[On the arrival of Urian Oakes, 1671.]

[_]

The attribution of this poem is uncertain.

Welcome, Great Prophet, to New-England Shore,
The Fam'd Utopia, of more Famous MORE,
Unfabled, for New-England is by thee,
Now Twisse's Guess too must Accomplisht be;
That for the New-Jerusalem, there may
A Seat be found in Wide America.

193

[Edward Tompson: Epitaph]

[_]

The attribution of this poem is uncertain.

HERE IN A TYRANTS HAND DOTH CAPTIVE LYE
A RARE SYNOPSIS OF DIVINITY
OLD PATRIARCHS PROPHETS GOSPEL BISHOPS MEET
UNDER DEEP SILENCE IN THIS WINDING SHEET
HERE REST A WHILE IN HOPES AND FULL INTENT
WHEN THEIR KING CALLS TO SIT IN PARLIAMENT.

194

[Moses Fiske: Epitaph]

[_]

The attribution of this poem is uncertain.

Braintrey! thy Prophet's gone. This tomb interrs
The Reverend Moses Fisk his Sacred herse,
Adore Heav'ns praise-ful art that form'd the man,
Who souls, not to himself, but Christ oft won,
Sail'd thro' the straits with Peter's family,
Renownd, and Gaius' hospitality
Paules patience, James his prudence, Johns sweet love
Is landed, enter'd, clear'd, and crown'd Above.