AN ELEGY AND Funeral Oration, ON THE DEATH Of the Reverend RICHARD LINGARD, D. D.  
Dean of Lismore, and Public Professor of Divinity in the University of Dublin.  
LONDON, Printed for Benjamin took, and are to be sold at the Ship in St. Paul's Churchyard. M DC LXXI.   

On the Death of the Reverend RICHARD LINGARD, D. D. Dean of Lismore, and public Professor of Divinity in the University of Dublin.  
ODE.  Immedicis brevis est aetas, & rara senectus, Quicquid amas, etc. Mart. 

I Am convinced now that I was abused,  
I thought it once a common place,  
Rather a custom, than a grace,  
And common as the Deaths for which 'twas used;  
When Poets rather than their grief,  
Imposed upon their own belief,  
Telling the World that all things rare,  
Were only symptoms of despair;  
That to be early very great  
Was life's perfection, and its date,  
The only Crisis of approaching fate:  
Methought they seemed as if they would  
Persuade 'twas dangerous to be good,  
That ripest Virtue which can only claim  
With us an immortality, was Fame,  
And merely mortal, set aside the Name.  
That come unto its pitch, it did expire,  
Because it never could get higher  
And sooner fell, if it did soon acquire,  
As if the swiftness made it out of breath,  
And its perfection, not disease alone, but death.   

II.  
To prove this Fate, you'll with an Emblem meet  
Of Flowers that in strange perfumes smile,  
And with realities beguile,  
As sweet as short, but ah! as short as sweet;  
Or else they'll tell you that the day,  
Which laughs in the most vigorous ray,  
Can't last, but ends the sooner for its flight,  
And weeps its glories in swift night:  
Such Similes as these, my dearest Friend,  
May suit with Verse, but not thy end,  
He must name nothing else, that would commend,  
Pardon Grey Virtues, if I am so bold,  
(And grief is so) to say that you are Old:  
LINGARD was green, green as the World first was,  
Born at full age, bearded with downy grass,  
Yet he was ripe, yea full as ripe as they,  
Who to his Cradle's colour live their way;  
For he was born just as he died, all grey.  
Now I'll believe the man that did implore  
That, or his joys, or wishes might be lower,  
Lest one excess the other should devour,  
That wish, dear LINGARD, fitted us for thee,  
For if ere man was loved to death, than thou art he.   

III.  
Thy day of life as yet shone in its prime,  
Fresh in its morning it did play,  
In the young manhood of its day,  
And had a journey to the noon of time,  
ne'er dreamt of shades, but briskly ran,  
When Death that grand Eclipse began,  
And interposed dull Earth by a sad sleight,  
Hiding thy beams, has lest poor us in night;  
Our little world looks dark for want of thee,  
And such another light it scarce will see,  
Till the first last day of Eternity.  
Can't Death mistake? For sure it told  
Thy aged parts, and therefore thought thee old.  
Ah no! 'twas Heaven called for its own,  
All thoughts of Age it lets alone,  
Time's not regarded there, nor known:  
But Thee it knew, and therefore did approve,  
Yet with a due respect to those above,  
Better than Us they may, more they can't love.  
Should it choose often so, mortals forgive,  
If I affirm, 'twill soon become a shame to live.   

iv  
Surely kind Heaven will thy great loss repair,  
And in exchange send us one down  
To bear the honours of the Gown,  
The double charge of Pulpit, and of Chair,  
When to the sacred Schools he came,  
How did he check, and snuff the flame  
Of those whose passion was their cause,  
And thought Divinity applause;  
I've seen him when small things arose,  
The empty stratagems oppose,  
And cut the hairs, and shave 'em close:  
He'd give them scope, a Sea he'd let them have,  
And talk in storms, and in huge tempests rave;  
But if the furious waves touched Heaven, he'd rise,  
And like a Neptune, with his brow chastise,  
And look all smooth, and fair as his own eyes:  
He'd end those little wars with such success,  
And with such satisfaction, one might guests,  
The men themselves did know their own minds less;  
Were we not sure Heaven no dispute can bear,  
The Saints might choose him to the self same office there:   

V.  
But when he in the Pulpit did appear,  
(The Pulpit now an empty place)  
'Twas in such genuine Majestic grace;  
As if some Angel moved in his own sphere;  
He aimed not at that shallow happiness  
Of owing matter to a formal dress,  
To cheat men's judgements never was his care,  
He slighted painted words, and carved air.  
Things in his words, no Picture there appears,  
Things from him came so naked to the ears.  
As if his Organs were not his, but theirs;  
Though much he spoke, yet all was short he said,  
He spoke things almost just as they were made.  
When he (as still he was at naming sin)  
In what a holy passion has he been,  
What ecstasies have Men and Angels seen?  
To such a decent rage he'd grow,  
As if he knew not what he did; but so  
He did it, as he always made us know:  
Like healing spears his words 'gainst sin employed,  
Did make Vice blush, and love to see itself destroyed.   

VI  
He seemed to some that knew him, so inclined,  
Or rather tied to virtue so,  
That he was good even whenever he would or no.  
For virtue was the very soul of▪ s mind.  
Severe he was to vice alone,  
Yet scarce then was his rage his own,  
So very mild his native mien,  
And so extremely hard to wean,  
That he, plain he, than whom was none,  
Hypocrisy could more disown,  
Was forc'd to counterfeit a frown;  
And this though just he was compelled to do,  
First fell out with himself, and then with you.  
But all this virtue's buried! can there be  
A Grave, a Tomb for immortality?  
If virtue e'er was mortal, 'twas in Thee.  
A Fever took him hence, a Fever came,  
And snatched him hence, oh give't a better name,  
He could not burn but in some holy flame.  
Call it a Chariot of fire,  
He like a Prophet should retire,  
And all the Universe must thus expire,  
The Phoenix world like him one day,  
Will in bright flames refine its clay,  
And only purge the Accidents away;  
For be it spoke with reverence to the skies,  
Bate them, and as he fell, we may expect he'll rise.   
FINIS.   

Oratio Funebris habita in Aula Collegii Trinitatis juxta Dubls. Novem. die decimo tertio, in Exequiis Viri vere Reverendi RICHARDI LINGARDI, S. T. D. & Professoris Pub. necnon Decani Lismorensis.  
INtuenti mihi, Auditores, circumfusam hanc Coronam, tot funesti & lugubres undique Vultus occurrunt, adeo Omnia Squalore insolito obsita, it à mortua planè visa sunt, ac si conventum hodiernum habuissemus, non tam ad Sepeliendum Viri Clarissimi Cadaver, quam ad Repraesentandum: Statuarum more, ad illius obrigentes Monumentum. Flevtmus nuper Nonnullorum Funera; at Lingardi obslupescimus Fatum: scilicet si tota Academia unico ictu everteretur & in Collegium Omnium Animarum Transmigraret, lugendum minus esset jusortunium, & licet ad tantum Funus celebrandum deesset forsitan Orator, minus certè quam nunc desideraretur. Quod ad me attinet, de mortuo Lingardo locuturus, ipsum morientem refero, elangutscit Lingua, vox haeret faucibus, nil nisi triste sonans & lethale: Sin attonitus minùs extitissem Orator, ipsa tamen deessent verba vel nostris doloribus, vel (quae unica majora sunt) illius meritis partia: neque enim aequum est ut amplius eloquium expectaretis, dum in eternum sileat Lingardus. Jacet ille inter Silentum claustro taciturnus, vocalis nuper Mysta nec minùs Oraculum, quique modo tonitru & fulgure missis de talo vocibus, Numinis instar, elocutus est; & tam caelesti igne vel intactis corporibus liquefecit Animas, silens eheu! ipsus exanimisque jacet, Fulguris inslar, ipsâ in coruscatione evanescens.  
Sed ut eruditius lugeamus, & ut grata Lingardi Manibus fieret Parentatio, attentiùs paulo perpendamus, quot Vnico in Viro virtutes amisimus, quot Art●●●, & Naturae dotes und cum illo interierunt, quae quanquam infinita poenè sint & majora quam comprehendi poterint, aliquale tamen pietatis erit Indicium illorum vel aemulari Scientiam; idemque de Lingardi Perfectionibus dici potest, quod de divinis solet, quarum cognitionem Omnes expetere debent, licet Nemo unquam sit assecuturus.  
Familia oriundus est antiquâ satis, nec ignobili, licet nulla jactitet Stemmata, vel dimidiatas Heroum Imagines, Protoplasto similis qui nullos agnoverat Majores sibimet ipse Origo fuit, & Complementum: Minora Sidera suum mutuantur Splendorem, Sol tantum natiuâ gloriâ elucescit, idemque saepe accidit Viris illustrioribus, quod maximis Fluminibus, quorum Fontes saepenumerò ignorantur. Si doctrina verò faceret Heroas, à Patre Semone ortus est, Viro usque adeo erudito ut (si quam Fame fidem adhibeamus) insigniois notae Theologum posteriora haec Saecula non produxere, praeter unicum filium, adeo ut crederemus illum extroduce Theologum, & nasci Professorem.  
At quia Piaculum esset quicquam de Lingardo nisi magnum hariolari, aspiciamus illum praeteritis puerilibus annis, grandiore jam aetate provectum, ab Academia exornatum, illamque rursus exornatum, à Cantabrigia ingentes honores referentem, quibus non minores retribuerat, ubi brevissimo temporis intervallo profectu, tanto adolevit ut Scientias universas ita noverit, uti nemo paenè Singulas, utpote qui naturâ, & Artibus usus est similiter liberalibus Dilectissimum hunc Alumnum diu amplectebatur Granta, sed Ignobilium & vulgi Fatum est, nisi in Civitate suâ ignorari, nec nascebatur Lingardus Ephemeridi similis, in usum unius tantum Regionis. Huc igitur accersitur, Ac nescio sanè utrum majores hâc Academia Grantae debentur Gratiae, quod nobis primùm dederit Collegium, vel quod tontum Virum accomodaverit. Ejus enim 〈◊〉 ope pristino Splendori restituia est Academia, quae vel in Academia quaeteretur. Statuta, mores, pietatem denique antiquam reddidit, noc tantum dissipavit nubes, verùm etiam Orbem Academicum illustravit. Piam etiam collocavit operam in Ecclesiam purificando, Fanatici● Sordibus inquinatam. Ingens verè opus! nec minus quam Augaeum Stabulum purgasse, lustare Templa quae aliquando in Stabula conversa sunt. Totos Schismaticorum Exercitus ipse solus stravisse poterat, diraque illa Sectariorum capita, hydras renescentes contudisse, Romae cladem vel ad aras juravit Sacer Hannibal, Alpesque Atramento penetrare potuit Aceto longe edaciore: adeo ut in illo tanta Romae & Genevae ignominia 〈◊〉 Britanniae gloria occubuerit.  
Sic regnavit diu Doctrinae, Ingenii, & Virtutum Princeps, diu & adhuc sine Rivali regnaturus, Insignesque hae Animi dotes tali comitate junctae sunt, ut Charitate ejus mil unquam universum magis, praeter Eruditionem; neque enim opus erat ut ad stabiliendum ejus Imperium, Sultanorum more, suos occideret Fratres.  
Quantâ perspicuitate retexit Scholasticorum telas? adeo ut Haereticus unusquisque, Arachnes ad instar, propriis visceribus fatalia sibi fila traxisse videretur; ac si Romani isti Pugiles, ut Romani Gladiatores, intrarent Theatrum, tantùm ut occiderentur. Coram ingenii illius luce evanuerunt tenuia Barbarorum Sophismata, nec amplius subtiles audiunt, nec Angelici, nec Irrefragabiles, Orecula ejus vel à Sera Posteritate memor abuntur, tanquam Numinis verba 〈…〉 si cum ipsius Orbis interitu peritura; quique tot divina pandit mysteria semper vigebit, efforebitque semper Scholae perpetuus Dictator.  
Cum vero pro Rostris peroraret, quam sacro horrore perculit auditorum me●●● Conciones illae suadentes gratiam. ipsius gratiae instar, placidè quidem traxerunt animum, sed irresistibiliter. Quam coelesti furore caelestia profudit verbo? Mirabile certè est illum non zelo citiùs & pietate, quam febre tabuisse. Occubuit verò tandem hostili morbo adortus, & propriâ Fortitudine proditus, ipsius 〈◊〉 Fortunâ, quoe divisi Orbis & sui ipsius Viribus labefacta est. Victor … er omnes glorias, inter omnia Trophaea defunctus, vel medio in triumpho cogitur sese mortalem meminisse. Sic virescunt flores donec ad summam perveniunt pulchritudinem, & nimto calore exarescunt; mediâ in aetate mortuus Lunam refert, qu● nunquam nisi cum plena sit, patitur Eclipsin. Quid mirum jam si Ecclesia rueret cujus Basis facta est cinis, cujus Columna Sepulchrum est? Quicunque transeatis in posterum Viatores ad illius tumulum, sislite pedes, & cognoscite majus publici doloris nunquam extitisse Monumentum quam Ligardi Cadaver: Discite in illius jacere Rogo sui Saeculi delicias & miraculum; Theologorum doctissimum, Amicorum fidelissimum, in quantum denique pateretur humana sors, Virum undequaque consummatum: nec amplius miremini barbara barbarorum Monumenta, miraculorum nomine cohonestantes, sub hoc quippe Marmore miracul●●● sepelitur, id enim sonat Lingardus, vigetque Famâ aere Corinthiaco & Mausolae perenniore, Pyramide Famâ, cujus Basis terram aequat latitudine, Fastigium Calos sublimitate, Famâ quae semper ad sidera aspirabit, quaeque ipsi tempori coaevae, Pyramidis instar, nullas unquam umbras admissura est.   
FINIS.