AN ELEGY On that Reverend and Learned Minister of the Gospel, Mr. WILLIAM JENKINS: Who Finished his Testimony the 19th of January, 1684/5. in the Goal of NEWGATE, where there are above Fourscore Dissenters still remaining. In a Dialogue between SENSE and FAITH.  Sense. 

PRISON! O Dismal thing! What wilt thou still  
Provoke my Sorrow to Employ my Quill  
In Mournful Notes! Thou cruel place, forbear  
To drain mine Eyes, till there's not left a Tear:  
Bampfield and Ralphson's not enough for you  
To pack from hence! You must have JENKINS too!   Faith. 

Come, leave thy Murmurs; his bright Soul has soared  
From Two Confinements, to the God he adored:  
He stayed but till his Glorious Captain called;  
Wouldst have him still in Flesh and Jail Enthralled?  
Weep for thyself, He is to Bliss arrived;  
He is not Dead, he is but Re-revived.   Sense. 

Lament I must, and will;— when such Dear Saints  
Expire in Prisons, I'll fling out Complaints.  
In spite of all your Modest words, I'll Roar  
As high as where his happy Soul did Soar;  
I will Implore a Divine NEMESIS  
On such as Shortened that Dear Life of his.   Faith. 

Weep not, for though he drew his latest Breath  
Within those Bars and Bolts, his happy Death  
Brings no Dishonour to his pious Name;  
'Tis as Celebrious as a Smithfield Flame.  
Then peevish Sense, be still; let me prevail  
That thou no more what Heaven Decreed, Bewail.   Sense. 

O! that my Head were Waters, and mine Eyes  
A Well of Tears to weep his Obsequies!  
His Dear Remembrance calls for some Arrears,  
Which must be paid him in a Flood of Tears.  
Where Love is Mutual, and of equal Force,  
'Tis cutting Grief to feel a quick Divorce.   Faith. 

Forbear, Mistaken Sense; thy fruitless Cries  
Bespeak Impatience; 'tis but Flesh that Dies.  
His Active Spirit is advanced, you know;  
He is but gone where thou must quickly go:  
Pale Death's the Portal that let's in to Glory,  
Our Writ of Ease from all things Transitory.   Sense. 

Ah! but He's Gone!— That Soul-Dividing Word  
Begets more Terror than the sharpest Sword!  
He's gone, who almost six and forty years  
Preached to poor Sinners both with Sighs and Tears.  
No Frowns nor Flatteries could with him prevail,  
From following his Great Master to a Jail.   Faith. 

Cease Exclamations: He his work has done,  
With Faith and Patience his blessed Race has run;  
Still constant in Adhering to his LORD,  
Who now has given him his full Reward:  
His Death in Prison does more loudly Preach,  
Then when his Voice did th' Ears of Thousands Reach.   Sense. 

If Gasping ZION must endure such Rubs,  
When Cedars fall, what will become of Shrubs?  
Or if successive blows our strength must break,  
How shall our Walls be guarded by the Weak?  
If men of Prayer must Doubly Silenced be,  
ZION will lose its best Artillery.   Faith. 

Can ZION fear, or Overthrow or Harm,  
When Great Jehovah's strong Outstretched Arm  
Becomes its Bulwark? Can we fear a Want  
Of Leaders, when God's so by Covenant?  
Although our Lord doth home some Servants call,  
He still supplies us, and is All in All.   Sense. 

Ah! but how often do our sins provoke  
The Lord in Judgement to Repeat his Stroke!  
Who can but shake in Storms? Can it be hoped  
The Church can stand, when it is thus unproped?  
Ah! how my troubled Soul's amazed to think  
That fainting Zion, will like Peter sink!   Faith. 

All once must Die; the Prophets have, you see,  
No Patent for their Immortality;  
When they've done that for which they hither Came,  
God can of Stones raise Sons for Abraham:  
When Peter sinks, Christ is at hand to heave him,  
And by his Promise, he will never leave him.   Sense. 

God's hand is heavy, and his Anger's sore;  
His Frowns are Deadly, and his Strokes much more:  
Such Mortal Visitations have a Voice,  
To make Friends Mourn, and Enemies Rejoice.  
What Temper's so well set, but will be soon  
(As Broken Strings make Music) out of Tune?   Faith. 

As Tender Parents Exercise the Rod,  
Not to Destroy, but to Reform; so God  
Is pleased to manage his Rebukes; he hath  
Full Showers of Love, as well as Drops of Wrath.  
Gracious Effects he gives of seeming Crosses,  
A Future Purchase by our present Losses.   Sense. 

Mine eye's must vent my Grief upon his Hearse;  
And weep in Earnest, though I weep in Verse:  
When Jonathan was slain, a Royal Eye  
In Doleful Accents wept his Elegy:  
So must I take like Privilege to Mourn  
In Ink, as well as Tears, upon his Urn.   Faith. 

Dry up thy Tears; for whom thou mournest, is Blest;  
He's Entered into Everlasting Rest.  
Joy 'twas to him to do his Master's Will,  
Now of his Master's Joy he hath his fill.  
In Faith and Patience wait; On God attend,  
He'll plead thy Cause, and will thy Right defend.    

An ACROSTIC.  


Well done, Good Servant (now thy God does say)  
Into that Joy that never will decay,  
Lo thou shalt Enter; and abide for Ay!   
Love to thy Lord, on Earth was thy Delight;  
In Heaven thou ever shalt enjoy his Sight;  
And now may'st say, (such Grace to thee is given)  
My Cross on Earth, does prove my Crown in Heaven.  
It is the Father's Will that now is done!  
Enjoyments here below, are quickly gone!  
N ●ne can from Death's dire stroke Exempted be;  
Knowledge nor Grace, could blessed Jenkins free.  

In Sion's Peace he placed his chiefest Stay,  
Nor could he Live, when he saw that Decay  
So near his Heart the Church's Welfare lay.