AN ELEGY On the DEATH of that Learned and Pious Divine Mr JOHN GIBBON, Late Minister of St Anne Blackfriars, London.  

NOt that I think my rude unpolisht Verse  
A meet Encomium for this Noble Hearse,  
This trifle my obliged affection pays,  
The proof, more of my Pen'ry, than his Praise.  
Whilst others, who are Learned, sacrifice  
From their abundant Ingenuities:  
I With my Mite, (according to my Sphere)  
Bring an Oblation of poor Camel's hair.  
So Pepper corns are Tribute to express  
A Homage due, not their own Worthiness.   

You who are Artists, and have wit at will,  
(Matter adequate, and proportioned skill,  
To the fair Subject) build a Monument  
High (if you can) as the miraculous Saint.  
To let succeeding Generations see  
His wonders, and admire as well as we.   

In vain you toil, if this you think to do,  
Unless you can be Gibbon-hearted too.  
Thus to commence his Poet in degree,  
Requireth more than single Sophistry.  
Were there a Constellation of Wit  
Met in Conjunction, there were need of it,  
To draw the Portrait of his frailer Glory,  
But there needs more to reach his upper Story.  
To say how good he was, how truly great,  
How meek, how generous, how kindly sweet,  
How much of Heaven comprised in single man,  
How real and how rare a Christian,  
And to do Justice to his Piety,  
Would even pose an University.  
To say how he did act, how he did teach,  
How he did in Seraphic manner preach,  
How he did Blessedness anticipate,  
By living here at a triumphant Rate,  
How he did seem a torrid Zone of Zeal,  
Which he employed not to inflame but heal,  
How he had Faith, which conquered by the Word  
More of the world than Caesar by his Sword,  
How he did love without dissimulation,  
How he did all things to Edification.  
This is an undertaking only fit  
For the Divine and Evangelick Wit  
Of a blessed Herbert; common, slighter stile  
Will not exalt, but his great Name defile:  
Some such inspired one take the task, and be  
The Herald of his so vast Exc'llency,  
In such sad and pathetic Accents show  
The doleful portent of this public Blow,  
As may make stupid Rocks relent, and move  
A sorrow as extensive, as his Love;  
Which was not limited, but did extend  
To the whole world an universal Friend.   
FINIS.