CERTAIN ELEGIES Upon the Death of PETER WHALLEY Esq late Major of NORTHAMPTON Upon the sudden death of the much lamented Mr Peter Whalley then Major of Northampton 1656. COuld not the top of Honor nor of Wit Our Patriot from so sudden death acquit Could not his Justice Piety nor Power In Court Town Country stay his soul one hour Could not his Office Friends nor his dear Wife Children Prayers Tears prevail to save his life No sooner did the Bridegroom his Soul call But straight to follow him he leaves us all Let us not mourn to see his Soul thus soar Who is not lost but onely gone before B. I. In obitum Dignissimi viri tam in alios morum suavitate quam summa in Deum pietate Petri Whalley qui Praetor Northamptoniensis existens fatis concessit HOs non exornant cineres fusae arte Columna Verba nec ex auro marmore sculpta nigro Dicere qui fuerat sunt haec inidonea prorsus Vtraque nec meritum justa referre suum Editus à Civi fuit hîc utroque parente Munia hac nostrâ sustulit urbe benè Consulis officium longò hinc cum laude subivit Factus ad duplicem Praetor in urbe vicem Primus hic it praesens quinquagesimus annus Vita nec exactis totque diebus adhuc Hen minus expleto naturae cederet actu Ceu Rosa praeproperâ verna revulsa manu Hinc lachrymae hinc gemitus nostrates plura quòd aeva Corvus agit paucos casta Columba dies Exprimit infandum vicinia tota dolorem Rustica plebs gemitum dat replicatque suum Insequitur lachrymis lectissima funera conjux Defunctum deflent pignora chara patrem Justa sequens madidis Clerus Comitatus Ocellis Vrbs sibi majorem fletque doletque pium Omnia maestitiam sapiunt Domus ipsa parentat Induitur Limbum parma Whalaea nigrum Vtque nihil desit nostratia fata referre Non cohibet lachrymas aethera pulla crebras Th. M. Upon the pious Life and sudden Death of his Dear Brother Mr Peter Whalley Major of Northampton and late Burgess in Parliament who died April 8. 1656. Aetatis suae 50. BLame not our sighs and tears when ye So many dead in one shall see A zealous active Magistrate To his dear Wife a loving Mate His Childrens Crown the Town 's delight He serv'd good men with all his might The Clergies joy and Real Friend Religions Patron to his End Comfort to th' Poor reliev'd the Opprest The Tongues and Hearts of All him blest His Countries guide an help to All Thousands lament his sudden fall Yet happy He is now ascended His joy begun his work is ended His God his Country and his Friend He lov'd and serv'd unto his End W. H. Chronogramma Enchomiasticon in immaturum obitum dignissimi viri Petri Whalley qui sexto Idus Apr. An. Dom. 1656. fato cessit 831 qVICqVID est tIbI terrenI SVCCVbVIt fato 173 Ingent IqVe sepVLChro frVItVr 527 ast VIrtVs tVa pietasqVe VeneranDa 125 erVnt VICtores sVbItI praeFproperIqVe fatI 1656  Sub hoc velo tegitur I. H. M. S. Upon the much lamented death of my worthy Friend Mr Peter Whalley WHere are those Pyramids whose envious height Challeng'd the clouds and did obscure the light Where is the tombe of Mausolus which gave His noble ashes a renowned grave Where are the walls of Babel Or the Shrines Of great Lucina Goddess of those times Alas these Wonders long ago did die And in their ruines cry Mortality The Spade of Time rides triumph in their date And in their Ashes writes a humane fate Well be it so let death contrive a Tombe For what the brain of man or else the Wombe Is parent of yet shall thy Vertue shine Among the Stars and conquer death and Time Thy active soul which was no child of Earth But is the off spring of a purer birth Shall laugh at fear and fill'd with sacred fire Sing Hallelujahs in the Angels quire Thy spotless Fame shall soar with her white wings Above the clouds of Envy whilst she sings Thy Panegyrick and in welcome layes Re-crowns thy Herse with her immortall Bayes And thus thy Soul thy Vertue and thy Fame Shall not be subject to a mortall Name Ita flevit John Howes Minister of Gods Word at Abington A Threne upon the much lamented Death of my worthily Honoured and Dear Friend Of Pious and Fragrant Memory Mr PETER WHALLEY then Major the second time of Northampton c. Expressed under the Scheme of a Dialogue Inter indignum quendam defuncti Amicum loci Genium Amicus WHat means this Face of things how is thy Brow Fair City clouded that was clear but now What pensiveness is this Whence issuing Are all these Briny Floods Ah Where 's the Spring What strange amusing sighs are heard What moan From every Brest accented with a Groan Ah! What sad direful Omen boadeth this So sudden ghastly Metamorphosis If in thine eyes a stranger may finde grace Tell me thou friendly Genius of the place Genius O cease enquiry Shallow-Grief may speak Sure that is tongue-ty'd which the heart doth break But since thy Brim-full watry eyes bewray A Sympathy in sadness with the Day Come let us mingle tears It s some releif To have Companions with us in our grief Our angry Fate inverts the Proverb thus The more The Sadder Therefore joyn with us What! the lov'd Husband new bereav'd of life Not strike amazement in the Loyal Wife Shall Orphan-Children see before them lie The Carkass of a Father and not cry Nay Shall the Head lye sever'd on the ground And the pale Trunk not die into a swound Such is thy Fate sad Town this day in thee Thy Husband Father Head doth cease to be More I would say but sadness hath opprest My strugling Soul let me groan out the rest Amicus What 's this I hear Good Genius recollect And do not thus my frighted sense affect Gen. Ah wretched me He 's gone Amic What he is that Un-case thy minde Thy tropes Enucleat Gen. Ah He is gone the Ornament the Gem Within this City-circling Diadem The Soul within this body and the clear Moving Intelligence of this our Sphere Ah! Had he liv'd Northampton thy blest state Had rais'd thee emulation but not hate Thy Industry had surely sprung the Mine Within the Channel of the Silver Nine Whilst he by lawful Magick did contend That Fier out of Water might ascend Ah! Had he liv'd Thy Vertue Piety Thy Zeal to sound Religious Honesty Thy equall Justice candid innocence Had still prolong'd thy Glory thy defence But ah Troy was Thy Crown is fall'n and now Despair and Horrour sits upon thy brow Thy Scarlets turn'd to Sables and thy Pride The Fasces and Securis laid aside Thy crabbed Lictors now can skill to weep And Praeficae are found in every Street Hark! Dost not hear the slowly swinging Bell Ring out with sullen-Roar a
doleful knell Prepare thy heart prepare thy fluent eyes To celebrate his last sad Excquies Thy pious prudent Praetor Major Head Consul and Father The lov'd Whalley's dead Break ope the Flood-gates let the Sluces go Create from Living Springs a Deluge so Then mingle Streams with Nine subdue thy Fears And make it navigable with thy Tears That Fluid Chrystal of his Name shall be The Monument to late Posterity Amic Was this the Omen Is it so then Genius farewel I 'le try what I alone can do in some dark gloomy Cell Haec gemitus inter singultus anhelans Flevit F. A. To the memory of his Pious and Prudent Friend Mr Peter Whalley late Major of Northampton HE that but little skills to make a Verse Is prest to pay some duty to this Herse Sad is the Subject so 's our Verse but know Losers have leave to talk that feel the Blow Affection makes the Poet now not Wit Light trimming mourning weeds can never fit Lo here the Ruines of a Casket lies That late contain'd a Pearl of goodly Prize The Pearl's dropt out indeed but by Remove Of Blessed Angels now 't is fixt above That 's safe 't is we the losers are alone In black and white thus come to make our moan Here lately shone those Graces from above Well temper'd Zeal with Knowledge Faith and Love With Temperance Meekness Patience Moderation The blessed Spirit there took up his station His Publike cares his Private him commend He was the Churches Nurse the Good mans Friend P. Plain Pious Prudent Peaceful was his Praise W. Wife Well-bred Willing Watchful in his Waies He 's now to Dust returning Ah the day That turn'd this Gold into a lump of Clay But so the choicest Trees cull'd out we find When Thorny Shrubs enow are left behind Northampton sit 'i th Dust cause there he lies And now you have lost your Head don't spare your Eyes The fairest Fabricks fall to ruine must Whose Pillars crack and crumble thus to dust Come Leveller Death leads thy Van away Black Coats and Scarlet Gowns shall Homage pay To his commanding Rod of Sequestration Such Men such Christians don't become the Nation What dust-heaps makes he of the choicest sort To kill poor Flies and Beetles 't is no sport Grim death of late does sure pursue their cries Who scorn dominion kick at Dignities Or else with Hell combines to part the fray To rout the Good that Hell may win the day No no Deaths errand is from Heaven and we More sober stand amaz'd such change to see Sad Omen such Eclipses boad no doubt When Lanthorns break to pieces Lights go out Some storms will follow sure this Thunder-clap Judgements break in when Moses leaves the gap When Guides and Shepherds in their Beds are laid Poor wandring Sheep of Wolves may be afraid Yet don't despond though Conduits broken are Gods Fountain's full these Breaches hee 'l repair Sad Mourners spend your tears on sin You then Shall blest be here or else with him agen Vpon his sudden Departure O that our Fate in 's losse betimes we knew That tri'd we might what prayers and tears could do This sudden blow had we but fear'd before We should have griev'd the less but pray'd the more Heavens wise disposing hand decreed it so The shortest cut to glory he should go Say not 't was sudden Death but all in hast He took his leave his time was over-past His work being done he gently steals away Cull'd out he lingers not nor makes delay No Feaverish heats his fainting Limbs must burn And melt by drops this gold into its Urn No Dropsies cold nor Agues rackt his bones No Atrophie drill'd out his life in groans He 's well a Summons comes he turns aside Like Moses meek onely went up and di'd Romes Imperator often wish'd to be Posted away by such Euthanasie And yet his Pilgrim soul could little know Whither when outed hence it then should go Much better He that heaven hath sure in 's Eye May wish not fear at least thus quick to die Dejected seldome he who daily dies Death laid in ambush cannot him surprize 'T is not a body craz'd but soul that 's sound That for departure hence stands ready bound Consumptive pains not alwaies wast the sin A Life well led Death only welcomes in Peace then in this no more lament at all Who waits his change as he can never fall Upon his Interring in the Church of All-Saints in Northampton BUt say where shall this sacred dust Lie till the raising of the Just This close lodg'd Guest where shall he be Hid for this Worlds eternity What structure's this to whom related Fame tels to Saints 't was dedicated If All Saints here a part should have Saint Peter then may claim a Grave 'T is not that Apostolike he Lies here yet Peter 't is you see And Saint he was sincerely true Saint Peter then may be his due What ere he was one part you see Here wrapt up in Mortality His better part to God is gone His Warfare's finisht work is done Blest soul adieu our loss's thy gain Thy pleasure 's full while we in pain Impartial Fame shall dresse thy story Thy Name lives here thy soul in glory PETER WHALLEY Anagram They Reap Well THey Reap well That Heaven obtain Who sow like thee Ne'r sow in vain On the Life and sudden Death of my Dear Brother Mr Peter Whalley REader Vouchsafe to know before thou passe Whom th'Church the Town and County lost He was A Magistrate fill'd with a publike minde To all 's private relations dear and kinde Helpful to th' poor to Friends he faithful prov'd Honest to all of honest men belov'd Fixt in OLD Truths when Times for NEW Truths were He made both Church and Ministry his care He serv'd his God though's busines did abound When his Lord call'd he was SO DOING found On his sudden Death Although the sacred Preacher cannot lye Yet this Good Man searce found * Eccles 3.2 a Time to die Was his departure strange not being sick God made it easie as Death made it quick His death was such that 't may almost be said As Paul of some he 's rather chang'd then dead He dy'd like Moses with this difference still Moses went up and he went * He died in an house standing at the bottom of an high hill which hill he walked down a little before his death down the hill Though when death came he was i' th bottom found His active soul soon got the higher ground Whilst others fet a compasse here is one That unto heaven the next way is gone Though in this race others with him begun Yet all quite out of distance hath he run Like Snails we duller mortals do but creep But he he hath done it with a running leap Death stole behind as if it self him fear'd Knowing he was before-hand well prepar'd His being slipt so soon out of this life Twix Saints and Angels
did prevent a strife They would have held him here to help them still These would remove him hence their quire to fill Should all wear blacks that have a cause to mourn The Sun it self must into darkness turn And the black night a blacker garment have So all this World be but as Whalleys grave Should all due tears be shed from clouds and men A second Flood would drown the World agen I. H. An Elegie on the sudden and much to be lamented death of Peter Whalley Esq twice Major of Northampton and lately Burgess for the Corporation who to the publique grief departed this life April 8. 1656. IF Love or Honour could exempt from death Then hadst thou still enjoy'd thy vital breath If Friends or prayers could subdue the grave Then thou on earth another life should'st have But since no love nor honour friends or prayers Can life restore let us in floods of tears Lament our loss and with affection mourn Because the Head is from our Body torn A good man 's gone like Enoch in great haste Oh cruel death forbear make not such waste He was a godly man of unstain'd life A friend to peace an enemy to strife A publique-spirited man made up of Love Wisdome and meekness graces from above He was a Pillar yea a corner stone A Major a Burgess fit for Northampton An active-spirited man in Church and state Prized by godly men at a high rate A tender-hearted man unto the poor And open-handed to them at his door A Phinehas for his zeal like Moses right He led the people till called out of sight Like David faithful to his friend like Paul Discharged a good Conscience unto all He living walkt with God and now he 's dead The grave is to his body like a bed Whilst his refined soul mounts to the skie Clothed with glory and eternity Samuel Cibs In Obitum Charissimi Patris mei Petri Whallaei Armigeri Qui hujus vitae limina disseruit Sexto Iduum Aprilis An. Dom. 1656. EN Petra percutitur Lachrymarum hinc effluit amnis Ex oculis Guttae fluminis instar eunt Ecce Genas fletu conjux tua chara rigavit En hic En illic Quaeque latebra dolet Eruptis Lachrymis diffundit turba sepulchrum Acriter exululans hîc jacet Vrbis Honos Nos tam foelices donec te fata vocabant Jamque jacent tumulo gaudia nostra tuo Quis fueris constat lachrymis agnosceris illis Non tibi chara magis conjuge vita fuit Singulus Sobolis Patrem testantur amantem Dum deflent populi te quasi Semideum Praesidium miseris Patriae Tutela fuisti Quis scit an manes hic quoque tangat honos Ibat ad occasum sic Lux clarissima Gentis Et sanctum Tumuli condidit umbra caput Si tamen illius meritis Par vita daretur Non nisi cum mundo debuit ille mori In Eundem Vita fuit Christi tua gloria Mors tibi lucrum Fit tua vita Dei gloria Morsque tui Audax ante diem sic Mors tua lumina clausit At sibi Mors nunquam plus licuisse putet Nunc habitas cives inter stellantis Olympi Vitaeque aeternae Gloria Christus erit Thy Saviours Life thy Glory was His shameful Death thy gains Thy life blest Saint Christs glory was By Death thy life remains Why cruel death before due time Didst close his glorious eyes O think not to repeat thy crime Gods Saints must shortly rise His Blessed Soul 's in Heaven above ' Mongst the Celestial Train Where Christ imparts out of his Love Glory to him again N. Whalley An Elogie upon the Death of his Dear and ever Honoured Father Mr PETER WHALLEY T Will not excuse to say I have no vain Of Poetry who is there can refrain When such friends fall and death ambitious how To raise his Triumph makes such Worthies bow Who would not try to sigh and sob a Verse When 't is t' attend and wait upon this Herse When Death arrests I see and calls away Goodness can't bail nor vertue cause delay Death was too quick for us not him but stay He did not kill but stole this prize away Death knew he was prepar'd and therefore sent No Gout to tell him that he must repent A tedious sickness had his friends more griev'd He then had longer di'd not longer liv'd There 's none will blame a wind ' cause it doth send Their Ship too soon unto their journies end He now a journey took who oft did go To Englands City now goes to Heavens too Best things not always last the longest so Silks will out sooner wear then wool or toe Nay it had injur'd his high soul to wear His body till his flesh had look'd thredbare Since he must go with us no longer stay Death was his friend to guide the neerest way He only slept in haste as if to die Had no departure been but extasie The key of Mercy gently did unlock The door 'twixt heaven and it when life did knock We weep not therefore for his losse but ours Which is so great drops will not serve but showers Our father's dead ours is the grief and then How vast it is that neither tongue nor pen Is able to express alas and I Can onely shadow forth our misery Ah! who can grieve with us poor souls whose grief Admits no equall but transcends belief Our dearest Father in whose breast did lie Our life is fled into Eternity The Child the Widow weep with equall strife Who should weep most his children or his wife Come weep with us who ever reads or hears And know his loss deserves his Countries tears The Church hath lost a Patron by his Fate A Friend his Countrey and a prop the State Who would not therefore now if Vertues friend Bewail his sudden unexpected end Who has such hard such unrelenting eyes As would not weep when so much vertue dyes But he is gone our task 's to imitate What he was doing till he was stopt by fate Our future vertuous deeds are Legacies Which from the gift of his example rise God grant that I whom Nature made his Son May be like him until my race be run So faithful to my God Church Countrey Friend And all concern'd Relations to The End P. W. Peter Whalley Anagram A Whyte Perle