AN ELEGIAC ESSAY, Humbly Offered to the Pious Memory OF The Late Reverend and Learned Mr. MATTHEW MEAD, Minister of the GOSPEL at Stepney: Who departed this Life Octob. 16. 1699.  
By M. B. Philo-Musus.  
Dignum Laude Virum, Musa vetat Mori.  Horat. Prov. X. 7. 
The Memory of the Just is Blessed.  
LONDON: Printed for john Martial, and Sold by him at the Bible in Grace-Church-Street. 1699.  
Where you may be supplied with Mr. Mead 's and Dr. Owen 's Effigies; as also most of their Works: with most sorts of Books to Learn Shorthand.   

To the Church of CHRIST Meeting at Stepney, over whom the late Reverend Mr. MATTHEW MEAD was Pastor, Christian Salutations.  
Honoured and Beloved,  
TO whom more Aptly can I address myself, than You; since that which affords the Subject Matter of the ensuing Essay was once your Esteem and Delight; the very mention of whose Name, (in the Hearts of all truly Gracious) at once commands both Love and Reverence. Therefore not to revive the thoughts of your Loss, and with it renew your grief, in the Death of that late Eminent Star of Virtue, Mr. Matthew Mead, is this Poem to your view and Patronage; but to Testify the unworthy Author's Veneration to the Ashes of so Great and Good a Man. The Theme indeed deserves a far better, and more skilful Hand, for I may justly complain with the Poet, 
My Oaten Reed no Lofty Notes can Raise,  
And Lofty Notes alone can reach his Praise;  
Yet tho' I'm short in Power, accept my Will;  
And let my Love atone my want of Skill.   
I could indeed have wished that some more Inspired Pen had Sung his Obsequies; but waiting long, and finding none enter the Lists in so Eminent an Emergency, I have adventured forth: For why should Worthy Mead steal silently to his Grave? Tho' my Notions may be high yet the Work must needs be rough and unpolished, since performed by so mean a Hand; and especially considering the mournful Occasion; for is it possible that Tears should distil in Exact Numbers? But I shall not apologise any further; or to insinuate myself into any of your Favour, or good Opinion, either of myself or Performances, (as too many do) expose any of your Names, or your Virtues; the latter of which is, (and I pray God it may be more) conspicuous to all that are so Happy as to be acquainted with you. If this Adventure of mine meets with your Candid Acceptance, and Favourable Construction, it will compensate my Pains, and animate me to be,  
For ever Yours, in Ours: M. BROWNE.   

AN ELEGIAC ESSAY, Humbly offered to the Pious Memory Of the Late Reverend and Learned Mr. MATTHEW MEAD, Minister of the GOSPEL at Stepney.  

BRight Sol retiring to the Western Deep,  
Dull Night's Approach confirmed a solid Sleep;  
And the I'll Horrors of the Gloomy Night,  
Whose powerful Shades had chased the cheering Light;  
With Sable Atoms filled the lowering Air,  
Invading all our dusky Hemisphere,  
Whilst deepest Silence weary Eyes did close,  
Tempting frail Mortals to a soft Repose;  
All things lay in a perfect Letbargy,  
Thick Darkness had overspread the Azure Sky;  
All did enjoy a Peace, but my poor Mind,  
Overcharged with Grief, no Rest or Peace could find:  
Such weights of Woe my thinking Soul oppressed,  
That tore my Soul, and grieved my tender Breast;  
All wrapped in Melancholy Thought I lay,  
Wished 'twould be ever dark, or soon be day;  
Means I essayed to ease me of my Grief,  
But all in vain, I still found no Relief,  
'Til kinder Tears at last my Silence broke,  
And Roused my Muse, which to this Purpose spoke.   

hobb's gone from Earth,— (O wretched Men)— 'tis so;  
He's gone where (soon or late) we all must go:  

Gone ever, whom we ever shall deplore,  
For ever gone, whom we did all adore,  
MEAD, dearest MEAD, alas! is now no more.   

Long since I heard the News, yet scarce would give  
It Credence, but believed great MEAD did live,  
And until now could not consent to grieve.   
But t'other Day walking a silent Grove,  
I found a sweet Recess, a dark Alcove,  
Seemed made by Nature, fit to Contemplate  
The Turns and Destinies of 
* Divine Providence.  Rigid Fate:  
Where on my Hand, my Head supinely laid,  
Methought I heard a Mournful Accent spread,  
Which Echo-like in murmuring Whispers said;  
Drop, drop a Tear, for MEAD, Great MEAD is Dead;  
Worth is withdrawn, and Piety's removed,  
For MEAD is gone, so much Revered and Loved.  

Amazed I stood, yet heard a Voice reply  
His Fame's Immortal, and shall never die,  
But like his Soul, live to Eternity.   
Then dry thy Tears, and his Just Praise pursue,  
So Great a Preacher, Worthy Patriot too.   

And now assist me, O thou Heavenly Muse!  
Whose bright Ideas nobler Minds Transfuse;  
With Sacred Raptures help me for to tell  
His Life and Death, whose Name's a Miracle.  
Thou touch'dst the Princely Prophet's mournful Lyre,  
When he bewailed loved Jonathan's Expire;  
May such sweet Raptures my i'll Breast Inspire,  
And may l feel the like Poetic Fire;  
That I in softest Numbers may relate  
Our Loss; our Jonathan's too early Fate,  
Who lived the Glory of our Israel,  
'Til as a Victim unto Death he fell.   

O thou my Father! I'm distressed for thee,  
For very pleasant wert thou unto me:  
Beloved in Life, desired too at Death,  
Which unto me proved sad expiring Breath:  
And as to Souls thou greatest Love didst bear,  
My Love to thee I never can declare:  
This aggravates my Grief, to think that I  
Shall here no more enjoy thy Company:  
‛ No more shall I behold that Cheerful Face,  
Nor view again that Majesty and Grace:  
‛ No more the Charming Prophet's Voice attend,  
‛ And Prayers to Heaven no more together send:  
‛ No more shall he sad Hearts with Joy inspire,  
‛ Nor kindle Frozen Souls with Heavenly Fire:  
‛ No more shall he with Pious Zeal possessed,  
Conduct the Saints to Everlasting Rest;  
No more pronounce the Blessed and Awful Word,  
‛ Nor brandish up aloft the Flaming Sword,  
‛ The Sword of God. Nor tell the Joys above,  
Nor chant those Wonders of that World of Love:  
‛ No more shall others Sorrows break his Rest,  
‛ No more shall help the Injured and Oppressed;  
No more shall we in Ordinances walk,  
‛ No more of high Celestial Wonders talk.  
No, no he's gone from us, Heaven caught him hence,  
His Soul being fully ripe for Recompense.  
Yet Characters of Worthies (like the Sun)  
Reflect a Lustre, tho' themselves are gone;  
And do Immortal Names to them create,  
For us to Honour, and to Imitate;  
From whose blessed Dust arise those Rich Perfumes,  
That Rival, and Excel Arabian Gums.  
Thus MEAD, Great MEAD, that Holy Rever'nd Bard,  
Has left a Glorious Name: Speak else, who heard  
Our Great Apollo to the Willing crowd,  
The Wonders of Freegrace proclaim aloud:  
How Holy and Sublime his Eloquence,  
When he those Sacred Pandects did dispense!  
Methinks I see him still, those Smiles, that Grace,  
That always sat so Regent in his Face:  
That winning, taking Mean, which oft did dart  
Light, Life and Bliss, into the Hearer's Heart;  
And Wonders of Stupendious Grace and Love,  
As if some Charming Angel from above  
Had touched his Tongue with Coals of Sacred Fire,  
Or as descended from th' Aetherial Choir:  
How Souls have melted! whilst he did proclaim  
The matchless Wonders of Jehovah's Name;  
And whilst with Charmer's Voice he did dispense  
The Sacred Drops of Heavenly Eloquence,  
He fed the Soul, whilst others please the Mind,  
And scarce has left an equal Bard behind.  
The Masculine and Nervous Strain, from whence  
Sprang such bright Oracles of greatest Sense;  
Those Flights of Wit refined, from Folly free,  
No fancy-pleasing-Arts were found in thee:  
So Grave, yet Pleasant, was thy Copious Style,  
As sweetly did thy Hearer's Hours beguile:  

So Great the Sense, and so Divinely sung,  
That all attended to thy Charming Tongue,  
As if Suadela's Graces on it hung.   
So Seven Nations Homer's Birth contend;  
Such Force his Eloquence, so Great his End.   

Thus Passions strives in every Pious Breast  
Which shall Bewail him most, and Love him best?  

Crowds call him FATHER, and in Raptures tell  
How by his Bow they willing Victims fell,  
And how (through Grace) he saved their Souls from Hell;   
And every Gracious Soul doth Emulate  
Who shall most Love, who best shall Imitate:  
O BUKEN! thou may'st boast, since from thee came  
A Prophet thus enroled by lasting Fame;  
Since from thy Soil such Goodness did Descend,  
Such Worth, such Grace, by better Powers designed,  
To Rival all the rest of Humane Kind,  
Such Worth ne'er Poet sung, or Scribe e'er penned.  
His Harvest has been large, his Season long,  
And long he charmed us with his Heavenly Song:  
Began in Youth, and carried on by Grace  
Through Manhood, till old Age succeeds the Place:  

Grace planted in his Soul hath sweetly throve,  
Being daily watered by the Spirit of Love,  
Till now made perfect with just Men above;   
And overthrown that damned old Proverb; He  
That's a young Saint may an old Devil be.  
No, Grace will Triumph over Sin and Hell,  
For all's laid up in Christ, it there doth dwell;  
And from this Head of Influence is given  
Life, Love, and Grace on Earth, and Joy in Heaven:  
If Christ can fail, then may we go astray,  
But while Christ stands we CANNOT fall away:  
But if we slip, (as we too often find)  
Eternal Arms still stays us up behind;  
And the Eternal Covenant secures  
The Souls of the Elect while Time endures:  
And when 've run their Race, doth safely Land  
Their longing Souls upon their wished-for Strand;  
Where bathed in Bliss, eternally they sing  
To Christ their Head, their Prophet, Priest and King.  
Thus MEAD, dear MEAD, (The Mention of whose Name  
Creates within my Heart a Sacred Flame)  
Arrived at Glory; through this Living Way  
Ent'red the Holiest, where Eternal Day  

With Love and Praise his Ravished Soul employ,  
Nor shall Sin, Death, or Sorrow, more annoy,  
Or fix a Period to Eternal Joy.   
Faith's turned to Vision, Hope Fruition tastes,  
And Prayer is turned to Praise that always lasts;  
Love's now Refined, Unmixed, from Sex's free,  
And knows no Object but th' ETERNAL THREE:  
O blessed Estate of Souls! What's Heaven above?  
Nothing but the EPITOME OF LOVE:  
He had these Blessed Mansions in his View,  
His Faith was constant, firm, final, and true.  
This made Him long, till welcome Death should send  
His longing Soul to her beloved Friend:  
So bowed his Head, as blessed Jacob did,  
Or his dear Lord, when on the Cross he bled,  
And gently sighed, saying, Dear Jesus come,  
So goes from hence to His Eternal Home:  
It passed the Shades of Death, and made its Way  
Into the Mansions of Eternal Day:  
Saluted as she passed by blessed Throngs  
Of Seraphims with their Celestial Songs;  

Who clapped their Wings, and welcomed him aloud  
Into th' Aetherial Courts, the Sacred Crowd,  
For ever to Contemplate his God.     

An Acrostic Epitaph.  

Mowed down by God's most strict Command here lies  
A Fragrant Flower, who fell Death's Sacrifice.  
The other Day in beauteous Order stood  
This Flower; for Scent and Show exceeding good,  

High in its Stature, Excellent in Form,  
Enriched with Sweets, God's Garden did adorn,  
Was by the Crowd adored as Rising Morn.    

Moved now, the Jewel's gone; here only lies  
Entombed the Cabinet, which shall arise;  
And Clad with Light the Jewel shall incase,  
Dwell both in endless Bliss, and see God Face to Face.    
FINIS.  


BOOKS Newly Printed and Sold by John Martial, at the Bible in Grace Church Street.  
THE Government of the Thoughts: A Prefatory Discourse to the Government of the Tongue, by the Author of The Whole Duty of Man. The Second Edition.  
A History of the Union between the Presbyterians and Congregational Ministers in and about London; with the Causes of the Breach. Price 6 d.  
A Sermon on Occasion of the Death of the Reverend and Learned Mr. Stephen Lob, who died June the 3d. 1699. The Second Edition. With an Epistle to Mr. Theophilus' Lob, the young Student. Price 6 d. By Thomas Goodwin.  
Truth Unvailed by Scripture Light. In three Parts. Written for the sake of those that desire to behold it in his native Beauty. To which is added an Appendix, which the Author desires to leave as a Legacy to his Children.  
A Short Survey of the Kingdom of Christ on Earth with his Saints. Wherein, 1. The New Heaven, and the New Earth. 2. The Appearing and Second Coming of Christ. 3. The Restoration of all Things. 4. The Day of Judgement. 5. The Place of Punishment of the wicked Angels and Men. 6. Christ giving up the Kingdom to the Father, are briefly handled for the Benefit of all that have not time to read larger Volumes. To which is annexed a short Scheme of Exposition on the 12th Chapter of the Revelations.  
Temple Songs or Hymns, Composed to be sung at the Celebration of the Lord's Supper; every Hymn fitted to two Tunes for one time; the whole in every Line is to be said and sung; for the other you must leave out two Syllables in every second Line that are printed in Black; with most sorts of Hymns, and Spiritual Songs, and Psalms. Price 6 d.