A funeral elegy upon THE much LAMENTED DEATH OF THAT MOST REVEREND, PIOUS, AND judicious DIVINE JOHN POLYANDER OF KERCKHOVEN, DOCTOR AND chief PROFESSOR OF divinity IN THE FAMOUS university OF LEYDEN, And there the 8th time MAGNIFICUS RECTOR.  

WHat's seldom seen makes wonder: Then admired  
His life must be, whose Lease so late expired.  
But Death is Common. True; yet so to die  
Or live, transcends the common destiny  
Of mortals: None so free from blame or sin,  
That most admire he'd not immortal been.  
And so he is; while never-dyinge Fame  
Fat he wind, or wing, or trump to sound his name.  
But (since we find a change in things below  
Which some call Death, and few desire to know,  
When two dear consorts part, and must remove  
Though closely knit in ever constant love)  
Tell me Great soul, what made 〈◊〉 quit the seat  
Of thy so long abode? Did burning heat  
Consume it? No. Waest could? That drives all in,  
Andwilt thou out? would it had warmer been!  
The pillars firm, the fabric stood upright,  
No prop supportinge it; the windows light,  
No senseless sense: Those organs all in tune,  
And thou their harmony, but breathless, soon  
That music stopped expires, confused noise  
Succeeds, and mixed with greif's lamenting voice,  
Sighs, sobs & cries, fret the tormented air  
Choked with complaints of sadness and despair;  
While friends bewail a friend whom none did spite  
But that unlettered foul-mouthed Carmelite.  
Children a tender Father, and a wife  
Herself in him that was her soul and life:  
His flock a watchful Pastor, wandering youth  
A certain guide; and thou ne'er-conquered truth  
A valiant Champion to defend thy right  
‛ Ganist hell-scortcht Atheists which would dim the light  
Of that godson of heaven. Scholars grieve  
His death by whom their privilege did live:  
And now their sun's eclipsed. Fly cheerful light,  
Or wrapped in clouds of an infernal night  
Hang all the world in black! Some wanton eye  
Might Else perhaps their nakedness espy.  
Thus all lament, but he triumphant sings  
Sweet Hallelujahs to the King of Kings.  
Much have we lost, but he much more hath won,  
We saw the candle, he beholds the Sun.  
he's glad, we sad; and'tis a common cross,  
That none do gain but by another's loss.   
SAMUEL BRUNSELL.