AN ELEGY UPON SEVERAL Eminent DIVINES LATELY DECEASED.  

ADieu blessed Souls, go take Eternal bliss,  
Where anguish, sorrow, and all pains do cease,  
In the bright Regions of Eternal Days,  
Where Heaven born Souls enjoy the milder Rays,  
In the fair Dwellings, where there is no room  
For Blood, and where the impious never come.  
But stay, their Souls do live among the blessed,  
Their Bodies are but dorment, and in rest.  
If neither Souls, nor yet their Bodies die,  
Insulting Death can vaunt no Victory.  
What though their Eyes be dimmed, they dwell in light,  
And Death hath only turned their Faith to fight;  
Death hath but broke the Glass, that refract Rays  
Should be no more the Vision of their days,  
But direct Beams in that Celestial place,  
Where Saints behold the Almighty Maker's face.  
What though their Bodies in the Dust do fall,  
'Tis sure, but for to make them spiritual;  
To make them fit for to tune those Psalms  
Which Saints do sing, that bear triumphant Palms:  
But if you'll call this sleep a death, then say  
They're but withdrawn to rest till it be day;  
Till Christ shall wake them, that they may put on  
Like glorious Robes with those which Cloth the Sun,  
The Lordly looks of Death do tumble down  
Imperial Thrones, and tallest Monarches Crowns;  
All things below do here uncertain stand,  
The firmest Rocks are placed upon the Sand;  
Impartial Death permits none to go free,  
Respects no Ages, Sexes, nor Degree,  
Scarce lighted are our Lamps, and do burn clear,  
But fadeing die, and quickly disappear.  
Alas, alas, our Morning's but begun,  
When shades of silent Night obscure the Sun:  
Seeing Deaths Lordly hand prevails o'er all,  
And by his stroke impartially we fall;  
Let's live in Heaven, while here on Earth we be,  
Continuing mindful of Mortality:  
Let's watch and pray, and choose the better part,  
With Mary let us lay Christ next our heart;  
And like these Saints let's keep a general love  
For every one whose Birth is from above;  

That when Death to our days an end shall bring,  
With them we may blessed Hallelujahs sing,  
And pour forth Praises to the Almighty King.   
With numerous Mourners, now they are compassed round,  
When like good Seed they're laid into the Ground;  
Their light afflictions, which on Earth have been,  
Such a Mass of glory have acquired for them;  
What though in largeness could our hearts arise  
To his whom valid wit pronounced most wise;  
Yet could we not conceive, much less express,  
The vastness of that glory they possess:  
Their Fight of Faith is done, even that good strife,  
And they have laid hold on an eternal life:  
The Conflict's ended, and the Course is run,  
The Butt is touched, and the Prize is won:  
Their Race is at an end, they the Faith keep;  
Their work being finished, now they are asleep;  
Let us them trace in Paths of Holiness,  
So that we may obtain Celestial Bliss:  
When unto Fate we bow, and end our days,  
We may have nought to do but sing forth Praise,  
And look on Death, the mighty King of fears,  
But as a Bridge over this vail of Tears,  
To land us on those Banks, along whose side  
Streams of pure Pleasure evermore do glide;  
And at the last day may rejoicing stand  
With Pious Saints at Jehovah's right hand.  
Why make we then for them so great complaint?  
As though, we envied Heaven so good a Saint:  
No, let us rather joy at their great Gain,  
Which doubtful we still labour to obtain.  
And let this be comfort t'all those that weep  
For Pious Saints, that they're not dead but sleep.   
FINIS.   

With Allowance.   

LONDON, Printed for D. M. 1678. 114.