A MITE from a MOURNER: Upon the Loss of that Faithful and Able Minister of the Gospel, MR. RICHARD KENTISH, Who departed this Life Jan. 31. 1676.  
What must we put our Second Mourning on,  
Before our Mourning for dear Fowler's gone?  
Must we for Kentish go to and lament,  
Before for Fowler we were well content?  
Ah, stay thy hand (dear Lord) say 'tis enough,  
Else make this way plain that to us seems rough.  
Ah when he followed Fowler to his Urn,  
We little thought so soon would be his turn.  
But, England, England, we fear that thy field  
Hath little harvest more to Christ to yield;  
Cause Labourers are called to take their wages,  
Thou little think'st what Leanness this presages.  
Ten hath been called within this twelve month's day,  
Now Kentish too is called to take his pay:  
All which were faithful to their Master Christ,  
And laboured hard till called up to the Highest:  
Whilst we poor Sheaves alas are yet unhoused,  
And know not with what Prong we must be roused.  
Our hope is only this, that God who carves  
Never dealt yet with us as sin deserves:  
For we alas have but played with our light;  
Our deeds sure God sees suits best with the night:  
Therefore our Candlesticks are thus removed,  
In token that our works are disapproved.  
These used to invite sinners to Christ's wedding,  
And was till late in our high way a Bidding.  
Come let us look, have we got wedding garments?  
For Bidders now are preaching Farewell Sermons:  
And we have warning now to stand and fear,  
This is the last time that this man must hear.  
How like a Puritan did Kentish walk,  
In Habit, Hair, yea like to them in talk?  
He was a pattern unto this proud Age,  
Whose pride and covetousness good works assuage.  
His life showed forth that to him Christ was given,  
His holy Soul now suits a holy Heaven:  
For it's not all that cries to Christ, Lord, Lord,  
Must enter Heaven: look else in his Word,  
Though this Age fancies all that dies are blest,  
And every Glutton no doubt goes to rest;  
Their friend's conceit, and to each other tell  
That heartening word, No doubt but he is well.  
This Dives feared his Brethren thought of him,  
And would not mend, but to those torments swim:  
For Lazarus must be sent from the dead  
To tell them news how he was tormented.  
Ah, it's from sin not in sin men are saved;  
Kentish had this pledge before he was graved.  
Through dangers and afflictions this man went  
Of Liberty and Goods, yet was content.  
He counted charge before that he did build;  
'Twas Faith in God that was his only Shield.  
He did bear witness in his Generation  
Against the growing Evils of this Nation.  
He proved Christ long, yet to his dying day  
He held him forth the new and living way.  
For Humane Learning too he had that art,  
Yea he was learned to choose the better part.  
That he was more than Man was all of grace,  
Therefore in God we all the glory place.  

An ACROSTIC.  

R est not O then in this sad Wilderness;  
I 't is a place you see of great distress:  
C ome let us towards Heaven set our Faces,  
H o'th' not dear Jesus prepared better places?  
A re not our Teachers gone? Then let us follow;  
R un then by Faith and hear the foremost hollow:  
D ul Souls are they that in yond World do wallow.   

K now'st thou, O Man, that Death works night and day?  
E enough it is if God but to him say,  
N owe strike that man, and send him to his Judge;  
T urn he will to thee though thou at him grudge.  
I 't's nought to him if thou art not prepared;  
S thing he will deep if for Christ thou near cared:  
H ark else to Dives, who so finely fared.    

EPITAPH.  
Here lieth one whilst living he did speak  
To such as thou art, off from sin to break,  
And join with Christ, 'cause ere long thou must stand  
Eternally as this Judge shall command.  
And though he's dead, yet he to thee doth preach;  
Thy Souls immortal, Man: yea, he doth teach  
Thy body's dust: Alas, what art thou proud,  
That must ere long with me 'mongst the dead crowd?   
FINIS.   

London, Printed in the Year 1676.