University of Virginia Library

A FUNERAL TRIBUTE To the Honourable Dust of that most Charitable Christian, Unbiassed Politician, And unimitable Pyrotechnist John Winthrope esq:

A Member of the Royal Society, and Governour of Conecticut Colony in NEW-ENGLAND.

Who expired in his Countreys Service, April. 6th. 1676.

ANother Black Parenthesis of woe
The Printer wills that all the World should know
Sage Winthrop prest with publick sorrow Dies
As the Sum total of our Miseries:
A Man of worth who well may ranked be
Not with the thirty but the peerless three
Of Western Worthies, Heir to all the Stock
Of praise his Sire received from his Flock:
GREAT WINTHROPS Name shall never be forgotten
Till all NEW-ENGLANDS Race be dead and rotten;
That Common Stock of all his Countries weal
Whom Grave and Tomb-stone never can conceal.
Three Colonies his PATIENTS bleeding lie
Deserted by their great PHYSICIANS eye;
Whose common sluice is poized for their tears,
And Gates fly open to a Sea of fears.
His Christian Modesty would never let
His Name be near unto his SAVIOURS set:
Yet Miracles set by, hee'd act his part
Better to LIFE then Doctors of his Art.
Projections various by fire he made
Where Nature had her common Treasure laid.
Some thought the tincture Philosophick lay
Hatcht by the Mineral Sun in WINTHROPS way;
And clear it shines to me he had a Stone
Grav'd with his Name which he could read alone.
To say how like a SCEVOLA in Court
Or ancient CONSULS Histories report
I here forbear, hoping some learned Tongue
Will quaintly write, and not his Honour wrong.
His common Acts with brightest lustre shone,
But in Apollo's Art he was alone.
Sometimes Earths veins creeping from endless holes
Would stop his plodding eyes: anon the Coals
Must search his Treasure, conversant in use
Not of the Mettals only but the juice.
Sometimes his wary steps, but wandring too
Would carry him the Christal Mountains to
Where Nature locks her Gems, each costly spark
Mocking the Stars, spher'd in their Cloisters dark.
Sometimes the Hough, anon the Gardners Spade
He deign'd to use, and tools of th'Chymick trade.
His fruit of Toyl Hermetically done
Stream to the poor as light doth from the Sun.
The lavish Garb of silks, Rich Plush and Rings
Physitians Livery, at his feet he flings.
One hand the Bellows hold, by t'other Coals
Disposes he to hatch the health of Souls;
Which Mysteries this Chiron was more wise
Then unto ideots to Anatomize.
But in a second person hopes I have
His Art will live though he possess the Grave.
To treat the MORALS of this Healer Luke
Were to essay to write a PENTATUKE,
Since all the Law as to the MORAL part
Had its impression in his spotless heart:
The vertues shining brightest in his Crown
Were self depression, scorning all renown;
Meekness and Justice were together laid
When any Subject from good order straid.
Neither did ever Artificial fire
Boyle up the Choler of his temper higher
Then modest bounds. In Church and Common-wealth
Who was the Balsome of his Countries Health.
Europe sure knew his worth who fixt his Name
Among its glorious Stars of present fame.
Here Royal CHARLES leads up, stands WINTHROPE there
Amongst the Virtuosi in the Rear:
But for his Art with hundreds of the rest
He might be plac'd in Front and come a Breast.
What Soul in fouldings t'other side the Screne
With Souls turn'd Angels guess we to have been
When first his Chariot wheels the threshold felt
Where WINTHROPS, DUDLYS, COTTONS Spirits dwelt?
What melting joys are there? Sorrows below,
Should adequately from New-England flow:
If Saints be intercessors, heres our hope
We need not be beholding to the Pope.
We have as good our selves, an honest Brother
Outvies their Saintship, there or any other.
Now Helmonts lines so learned and abstruse
Are laid aside and quite cast out of use:
And Authors which such vast expenses spent
Lye like his Corpse; his Ear is only lent
To Heavenly Harmonies, all things his Eye
Views in the platforme whence all forms did fly;
His labours cease for ever, but the fruit
He reaps at Fountain head without dispute.