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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A63963 A funeral poem on the death of the reverend and learned divine Mr. Richard Baxter written by Mr. Tutchin. Tutchin, John, 1661?-1707. 1692 (1692) Wing T3376; ESTC R27031 1,048 6

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A Funeral POEM ON THE DEATH OF THE REVEREND AND Learned Divine Mr. RICHARD BAXTER Written by Mr. Tutchin LONDON Printed for Richard Baldwin near the Oxford-Arms-Inn in Warwick-Lane MDCXCII A Funeral POEM c. T IS a just Tribute paid when we rehearse Immortal Worthies in Immortal Verse And mournful Cypress to Interments bring Whose Praises Angels write and Cherubs sing Shou'd we Lament and Mourners here commence ' Twou'd break our Numbers and confound our Sence Excessive Griefe all Harmony disturbs Distracts the Fancy and the Humour curbs 'T is true his Race he has too quickly run He rose too lately and he sett too soon But Tallest Cedars in the verdant Grove Must stoop when shook by the vast Pow'r above How good our Days are and how long their Date Is writ in the Eternal Book of Fate The Sands of Life by Heav'ns Decrees do pass Nor dares Pale Death to move and shake the Glass We weep not with the vast admiring throng But thank the Deity he liv'd so long He was an Offspring from Great Levi's Stem Calvin and Luther were contain'd in Him All Truth 's mysterious Paths to him were known And all the Virtues that attend the Gown He made the Foes of Truth Submit and Yield And baffl'd Error in a Conquer'd Field His Passions never cou'd his Sence controul Nor prompt his Body to disturb his Soul No Great Preferments cou'd his Conscience bind Corrupt his Judgment or Debauch his Mind For Minds resolv'd on Things above bestow A just disdain on empty Joys below Hail Sacred Soul freed from those Cares below And all the anxious Toils we undergo From Pain and Anguish and Ten Thousand Ills The Mortal Body in its Journey feels Dismiss'd from the vile Tenement of Clay Thy Mounting Soul cuts the Imperial Way Wing'd like a Cherub through the Aether flyes Where Joys are Born and Humane Frailty Dyes There Baxter is Eternally Possest Of what he Wrote his Everlasting-Rest With vig'rous Eyes he views his Blest Abode A Bleeding Saviour and a Smiling God The num'rous throng that their Blest God adore Large ranks of Saints he thither sent before What though he did of Dangers here partake And found a Prison for his Conscience sake Like his Great Master he the Cross hath born The Wisemens Envy and the Wickeds Scorn But Scenes of Bliss and unpolluted Joy All thoughts of past Calamities destroy Some of you Miter'd Heads with Honours Crown'd And you whose Temples are with Lawrel bound Who living are to Bishopricks prefer'd And are when Dead with Kings and Queens Inter'd Where lasting Urns the Sacred Relicks keep Whilst their Dead Worthies most profoundly Sleep Can your Sepulchral Marble endure the rage Of Envious Fame or all-devouring Age When Time to ruine shall your Statues cast The Name of Baxter and his Fame shall last Whilst Saints are living and his Volumes read They round the Orb his lasting Fame shall spread And if when Dead Prophets Instruction give The Name of Baxter and his Fame shall live FINIS