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A29843 An elegiack essay humbly offered to the pious memory of Mr. Matthew Mead minister of the gospel of Stepney, who departed this life Octob. 16. 1699 by M.B. M. B. (M. Browne) 1699 (1699) Wing B5132; ESTC R27889 4,575 18

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AN ELEGIACK ESSAY Humbly Offered to the Pious Memory OF The Late Reverend and Learned Mr. MATTHEW MEAD Minister of the GOSPEL at Stepney Who departed this Life Octob. 16. 1699. By M. B. Philo-Musus Dignum Laude Virum Musa vetat Mori Horat. Prov. X. 7. The Memory of the Just is Blessed LONDON Printed for Iohn Marshall and Sold by him at the Bible in Grace-Church-Street 1699. Where you may be supplied with Mr. Mead 's and Dr. Owen 's Effigies as also most of their Works with most sorts of Books to Learn Short-Hand To the Church of CHRIST Meeting at Stepney over whom the late Reverend Mr. MATTHEW MEAD was Pastor Christian Salutations Honoured and Beloved TO whom more Aptly can I address my self than You since that which affords the Subject Matter of the ensuing Essay was once your Esteem and Delight the very mention of whose Name in the Hearts of all truly Gracious at once commands both Love and Reverence Therefore not to revive the thoughts of your Loss and with it renew your grief in the Death of that late Eminent Star of Virtue Mr. Matthew Mead is this Poem to your view and Patronage but to Testifie the unworthy Author's Veneration to the Ashes of so Great and Good a Man The Theme indeed deserves a far better and more skilful Hand for I may justly complain with the Poet My Oaten Reed no Lofty Notes can Raise And Lofty Notes alone can reach his Praise Yet tho' I 'm short in Pow'r accept my Will And let my Love atone my want of Skill I could indeed have wish'd that some more Inspired Pen had Sung his Obsequies but waiting long and finding none enter the Lists in so Eminent an Emergency I have adventured forth For why should Worthy Mead steal silently to his Grave Tho' my Notions may be high yet the Work must needs be rough and unpolished since performed by so mean a Hand and especially considering the mournful Occasion for is it possible that Tears should distil in Exact Numbers But I shall not apologize any further or to insinuate my self into any of your Favour or good Opinion either of my self or Performances as too many do expose any of your Names or your Virtues the latter of which is and I pray God it may be more conspicuous to all that are so Happy as to be acquainted with you If this Adventure of mine meets with your Candid Acceptance and Favourable Construction it will compensate my Pains and animate me to be For ever Yours in Ours M. BROWNE AN ELEGIACK ESSAY Humbly offered to the Pious Memory Of the Late Reverend and Learned Mr. MATTHEW MEAD Minister of the GOSPEL at Stepney BRight Sol retiring to the Western Deep Dull Night's Approach confirm'd a solid Sleep And the Chill Horrors of the Gloomy Night VVhose pow'rful Shades had chas'd the chearing Light VVith Sable Attoms fill'd the low'ring Air Invading all our dusky Hemisphere VVhilst deepest Silence weary Eyes did close Tempting frail Mortals to a soft Repose All things lay in a perfect Letbargy Thick Darkness had o'erspread the Azure Sky All did enjoy a Peace but my poor Mind O'ercharg'd with Grief no Rest or Peace could find Such weights of VVoe my thinking Soul opprest That tore my Soul and griev'd my tender Breast All wrapp'd in Melancholy Thought I lay VVish'd 't would be ever dark or soon be day Means I essay'd to ease me of my Grief But all in vain I still found no Relief ' Til kinder Tears at last my Silence broke And Rouz'd my Muse which to this Purpose spoke MEAD's gone from Earth O wretched Men 't is so He 's gone where soon or late we all must go Gone ever whom we ever shall deplore For ever gone whom we did all adore MEAD dearest MEAD alas is now no more Long since I heard the News yet scarce wou'd give It Credence but believ'd great MEAD did live And until now cou'd not consent to grieve But t'other Day walking a silent Grove I found a sweet Recess a dark Alcove Seem'd made by Nature fit to Contemplate The Turns and Destinies of * Divine Providence Rigid Fate VVhere on my Hand my Head supinely laid Methought I heard a Mournful Accent spread Which Eccho-like in murm'ring Whispers said Drop drop a Tear for MEAD Great MEAD is Dead Worth is withdrawn and Piety's remov'd For MEAD is gone so much Rever'd and Lov'd Amaz'd I stood yet heard a Voice reply His Fame's Immortal and shall never dye But like his Soul live to Eternity Then dry thy Tears and his Just Praise pursue So Great a Preacher Worthy Patriot too And now assist me O thou Heavenly Muse VVhose bright Idea's nobler Minds Transfuse VVith Sacred Raptures help me for to tell His Life and Death whose Name 's a Miracle Thou touch'dst the Princely Prophet's mournful Lyre VVhen he bewail'd lov'd Jonathan's Expire May such sweet Raptures my chill Breast Inspire And may l feel the like Poetic Fire That I in softest Numbers may relate Our Loss our Jonathan's too early Fate VVho liv'd the Glory of our Israel ' Til as a Victim unto Death he fell O thou my Father I 'm distress'd for thee For very pleasant wert thou unto me Belov'd in Life desired too at Death Which unto me prov'd sad expiring Breath And as to Souls thou greatest Love didst bear My Love to thee I never can declare This aggravates my Grief to think that I Shall here no more enjoy thy Company ' No more shall I behold that Chearful Face Nor view again that Majesty and Grace ' No more the Charming Prophet's Voice attend ' And Prayers to Heav'n no more together send ' No more shall he sad Hearts with Joy inspire ' Nor kindle Frozen Souls with Heav'nly Fire ' No more shall he with Pious Zeal possest Conduct the Saints to Everlasting Rest No more pronounce the Bless'd and Awful Word ' Nor brandish up aloft the Flaming Sword ' The Sword of God Nor tell the Joys above Nor chant those Wonders of that World of Love ' No more shall others Sorrows break his Rest ' No more shall help the Injur'd and Opprest No more shall we in Ordinances walk ' No more of high Coelestial Wonders talk No no he 's gone from us Heav'n caught him hence His Soul being fully ripe for Recompence Yet Characters of Worthies like the Sun Reflect a Lustre tho' themselves are gone And do Immortal Names to them create For us to Honour and to Imitate From whose bless'd Dust arise those Rich Perfumes That Rival and Excel Arabian Gums Thus MEAD Great MEAD that Holy Rever'nd Bard Has left a Glorious Name Speak else who heard Our Great Apollo to the Willing crowd The Wonders of Free-Grace proclaim aloud How Holy and Sublime his Eloquence When he those Sacred Pandects did dispence Methinks I see him still those Smiles that Grace That always sat so Regient in his Face That winning taking Mean which oft did dart Light Life and Bliss