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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A66004 Iter boreale with large additions of several other poems : being an exact collection of all hitherto extant : never before published together / the author R. Wild. Wild, Robert, 1609-1679. 1668 (1668) Wing W2136; ESTC R7135 38,722 126

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But stay this counsel is but simple stuff Englands Divine Reynolds hath done enough His Sermon is her Monument in print And hath more Honour than all Poems in 't That doth not only speak her Saint and more Can make him one too who but reads it o're Reynolds records her Saint and you may hope That 's more than canonizing by a Pope IN MEMORY Of Mris E. T. Who dyed April 7. 1659. IT was the Spring and Flowers were in contest Whose smels should first reach Heav'n and please it best Then did Eliza's sweetness so surpass All Rival Virgins that she sent for was 'T was April when she dy'd no Month so fit For Heav'n to be a mourner in as it 'T was Easter too that time did Death devise Best for this Lamb to be a Sacrifice It was the Spring The way 'twixt Heav'n Earth Was sweetned for her passage by the Birth Of early Flowers which burst their Mothers womb Resoly'd to live and die upon her Tomb. It was the Spring Between the Earth and Sky To please her Soul as it was passing by Birds fill'd the Air with Anthems every nest Was on the Wing to chaunt her to her Rest Not a Pen-feathered Lark who ne'r try'd Wing Nor Throat but ventur'd then to fly and sing Following the Saint towards Heav'n whose entrance there Dampt them and chang'd their Notes Then pensive Air Dissolv'd to tears which spoil'd the feather'd Train And sunk them to their nests with grief again Mean time me thought I saw at Heav'ns fair Gate The glorious Virgins meet and kiss their Mate They stood a while her Beauty to admire Then led her to her place in their own Quire Which seem'd to be defective untill she Added her Sweetness to their Harmony As Meddals scatter'd when some Prince goes by So lay the Stars that night about the Sky The Milky Way too since she past it o're Methinks looks whiter than it was before AN EPITAPH Upon E. T. REader didst thou but know what sacred Dust Thou tread'st upon thou'dst judg thy self unjust Shouldst thou neglect a showr of tears to pay To wash the Sin of thy own Feet away That Actor in the Play who looking down When he should cry O Heav'n was thought a Clown And guilty of a Soloecism might have Applause for such an Action o're this Grave Here lies a piece of Heav'n and Heav'n one day Will send the best in Heav'n to fetch 't away Truth is this Lovely Virgin from her Birth Became a constant strife 'twixt Heav'n and Earth Both claim'd her pleaded for her either cry'd The Child is mine at length they did divide Heav'n took her Soul The Earth her Corps did seize Yet not in Fee she only holds by Lease With this Proviso when the Judge shall call Earth shall give up her share and Heav'n have all UPON The Learned Works of the Reverend DIVINE Ed. Reynolds D. D. REader who e're thou art here thou maist find Within these Works a rare rich glorious mind O Golden Precepts which alike do shew What 's thy D stemper how to cure it too Do pains oppress thy Body Sorrow Mind Draw near to God Pray'r will acceptance find And then no doubt he 'll grant thy Bodies Grief May bring thy sinking soul some small Relief Do Passions over-top thy will beware Virtue consists not in so high a Sphere If thou the Golden Medium wilt find Shun thou too high and too too low a mind Pleasures are gilded Nothings which like bubbles fly Swoln big with Emptiness so burst and die Do darkest times of ignorance draw near The rather view these weighty Lines nor fear Nor wonder much at this resplendent Light Diamonds shine brightest in the darkest night The Merchant-man sold all he had to buy The rich rare Gospel Jewel O then why Art thou so backward since that thou mayst make This Gem thine own yea at a cheaper rate The foolish Virgins when their Lord of Light Past by their lights were out So that eternal night Was their reward and just for they that deem Pains cost of greater worth shall ne'r be seen Within his Courts who is great good and just Is Folly thus repaid Reader we must Look that it ne'r be said of thee or I That our Neglest should cause our light to die R. W. Another LOok wishly friend thou seldom seest such men Heav'n drops such Jewels down but now and then One in an Age or Nation oh 't is rare Two Reynoldses should fall to Englands share Could Rome but shew one such and this were He His Picture could not scape Idolatry Whom Papists not with Superstitious Fire Would dare t' adore we justly may admire R. W. Aliud LEarning whose Forces did dispersed lie Of late alarm'd by the Enemy Calling a Councel did resolve at lengt● To chuse one General over all her strength Divinity who had the choice did Name Reynolds All Voices center'd in the same Now here he stands and heads such Books as bear Truth in their Van and Triumph in their Rear R. W. AN EPITAPH For a Godly Mans Tomb. HEre lies a piece of Christ a Star in Dust A Vein of Gold a Chind Dish that must Be us'd in Heav'n when God shall Feast the Just AN EPITAPH For a Wicked Mans Tomb. HEre lies the Carkase of a cursed Sinner Doom'd to be Roasted for the Devil's Dinner A Letter to a Friend Generous Sir ON Saturdy last the Day and Weather being as sad and dumpish as old Saturn himself whilest I was in my Study my Books and my self musty and melancholy and my provisions for the next Day as poor as ever were made by Countrey Curate sometimes scratching that which goes for my Head and then biting my Nails for offending my Noddle In comes your Friendly Letter the welcomest Quarter-master that ever came to my House to take up Quarters for that gallant Mans Works and if ever Good Works merited they do Doctor Reynolds Sir They no sooner entred my Study but all my Books seem'd to disappear as the Stars do at the rising of the Sun You cannot imagine what fear shame confusion and envy my poor Shelves discovered Some poor Authors stood gasping others tumbled down and others burst their Bindings resolving to break Prison rather than stand before such a Judge of Learning Those few Fathers which I had seemed to meet in a Councel what they should do whether stay or depart Old Origen began but he was so full of Allegories and whimseys they could not tell what to say to him but sure he and they all were troubled for fear good men that they should now be ejected in their old Age. Just in thought that he should again be a Martyr and burnt to light Tobacco Tertullian began to make Apologies and Austin himself fell to his Confessions and Retractions As for Hierom as good a Scholar as he was he wished himself again on his Pilgrimage and my poor Country-man Bede got into a corner and fell to