AN ELEGY Upon the DEATH of TWO Eminent Ministers of the Gospel Mr. PLEDGER and Mr. WELLS.  
Who Both Departed this Life on the Lord's Day June the 18th. 1676. The First of them having Preached Twice, and Administered the Lords Supper the very day of His Dissolution.  

WHAT sudden stroke Commands an Elegy,  
When all the Muses Sacred Wells are dry?  
Now Tyrant-Sol destroys those Fruits of Earth,  
Where to his milder Beams of late gave Birth;  
When each Spring fears a Bankrupt to become,  
And Murmuring Rivers their own Thirst bemoan;  
When Parching Heats have brought that Woe to pass,  
I'll make your Earth as Iron, your Heaven as Brass;  
Hard as the Adamants Compacted Parts,  
Or (what are yet less soft,) our stubborn Hearts;  
In such a Drought what Chemist can Extract  
That Quintessence of Tears our Griefs Exact,  
For such a Loss! Two Goodmen in one day  
By Death's surprising Hand thus snatched away.  
Devouring Death! Thy Sith too sharp is grown;  
Such Precious Flowers should not so soon be mown:  
Forbear a little longer! Spare, oh spare!  
Kill not by Couples! Murder not a Pair!  
Why Both? What? Doth th' All-consuming Tomb  
Desire Twins in its Insatiate Womb;  
Or wouldst thou make a Miracle Appear  
Two Suns Eclipsed in one Hemisphere.  
Look up (their Life's above) and see where stands  
Their vital Glass, not emptied of its Sands.  
But I, in vain Entreat, in vain Accuse,  
What's Heaven Will, 'tis sinful to refuse;  
'Tis the just Doom of fallen Humanity,  
And not more Natural to be Born then die;   


And now let us Reflect, what can be said  
By living Mortals of th' Immortal Dead,  
May they not smile at the vain Tears we shed?   
Sure 'tis Preposterous, we that stay behind  
In lingering Expectation of the Wind,  

Should Grieve for those are passed this Straight before,  
And now have safely Reached the blissful Shore,  
Thrice Happy Souls! who are to Sail no more.   
It is not then on their Behalves we mourn,  
But on our own, That Lamentable storm  
Of Sighs and Groans, whilst overflowing Eyes  
Dissolve their yielding Balls to Deluges;  
And doleful Sobbing with Heart-breaking sound,  
Wait their bewailed Bodies to the Ground.  
All this does but Express the Love we bear,  
And what we ought from their Remove to fear,  
For 'tis a Judgement when the Righteous part,  
And Men are stupid, not to lay't to heart.   

Ah Pious Souls! which shall we first Admire,  
Since Both were equal Lamps of Heavenly Fire,  
Burning and Shining Lights, whose Actions wrought  
On Hearts, and Jointly with their Doctrines taught;  
For well they know Religion did not dwell  
In Garbs or Phrases, but in Living well;  
Two Painful Labourers, Powerful Preachers both,  
Strangers to Covetousness, Pride and Sloth,  
No Outside Men, or zealous but in Talk,  
But such as in one constant Orb did walk  
Of solid Piety, whose Care was shown  
For their Flocks good as much as for their own;  
And with unwearied Pains like Tapers Bright,  
Consumed themselves to Bless others with Light,  
Would you see Heathen Chief-Good Christened, and  
Ethics serve under Sacred Writs Command;  
Their School-points Justly now become our own,  
Made Denizens in our Religion  
'Twas here, and every Moral Virtue hence  
Chose a new Genus, and new Difference,  
They found those Humane Lustres had before  
But Twinkled in Raw Indigested Oar  
Dispersed and Branched in Speculative Veins  
Through all the Southern School-mens Sunburnt Brains  
And therefore Coined them into Practic pence,  
Now Currant through all Marts of Conscience.  
They did design (still their Example Strives)  
To Vest these in their Rights unto our Lives;  
To Disei pline our Converse, work us That  
Which Set faced Monks make but Religious Chat;  

Nor know we how their Praises to Divide,  
Who both beyond all-Praise, Praiseworthy Died.  
Toth' last in their Dear Masters work Employed.   
The Reverend Pledger, Twice that day had Preached  
On which his Soul that Longed for Haven Reached.  
That Active Soul as Large a one as ere  
Submitted to Inform a Body here,  
High as the place in Bliss he was to have,  
Yet still as Low and Humble as his Grave.  

Twice with his Lord that day he had Repast  
First Here, But that not Satisfying Taste  
For a Full Meal to Heaven wards did haste   
And being Spent, (not weary) Sweetly Slept,  
In those Almighty Arms, so long had kept  
Him Safe, That wondrous Glory to Declare  
Wherein he now Enjoys an Endless share;  
Nor did good Wells less nobly quit the Stage  
From the Turmoils of an Ensnaring Age,  
For with as much true Zeal and Piety,  
He always Lived as other Saints do Die;  
Where, like some Holy Sacrifice, t' Expire  
A Fever Burns him, but Love Lights the Fire.  
Go Happy Pair! May your Immortal State  
Invite our Grosser Souls to Imitate.  
I'th' Book of Life your Names Recorded stand  
Engraven by your Great Redeemers Hand  
Verses are Vain, your Memory's more safe  
For Cherubims shall Write your Epitaph,  
Which in Mosaic Work with Diamonds Bright  
Is Drawn in Heaven, and Read by its own Light.   
FINIS   

LONDON, Printed for B. H. 1676.