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B03236 An elegy on the much lamented death of Mr. Samuel Loveday who departed this life on the 15th of Decemb. 1677. in the 59th year of his age. 1677 (1677) Wing E427; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.3[71] 2,650 1

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AN ELEGY On the much Lamented Death of Mr. Samuel Loveday Who Departed this Life on the 15th of Decemb. 1677. in the 59th Year of his Age. O Heavy stroke Oh bitter lamentation Scarce will my Tears give way to vent my Passion My Tears so overflow I scarce can guide My trembling Hand O stop you swelling Tide Of brinish Tears Alas my Heart doth break So strong 's my Grief although my Muse be weak Though to the Mournful Muses I make suit For their assistance and they all stand mute My Grief and Sorrow will my Muse supply And teach me to Indite an ELEGIE My Grief sufficient Matter will infuse Into my Heart True Sorrow needs no Muse Dear LOVEDAY's Dead that for this many Years Has fed the Flock of Christ Let floods of Tears Run from the Conduits of your moistened Eyes How shall the Flocks be fed when th' Shepherd dies When Shepherds die and cruel Wolves remain The tender Lambs have reason to complain Dear Samuel's gone he 's gone that us'd to keep A faithful Watch when we could take our sleep He 's gone he 's gone that Sacred Food provided Ah! he is gone by whom the Flock was guided How careful was he always to provide Good Food and Food convenient beside For tender Babes who in the Faith were young Provided Milk and also for the Strong Or Men in Christ provided stronger Meat Also provok●d an Appetite to Eat The Ignorant this Holy Man instructed In paths of Righteousness and then Conducted Into the Fold of Christ where he with care Did feed them as Christ's Flock and did not spare But spent his strength to find good Pasture out Strengthning the Weak confirming ev'ry Doubt And that which will perpetuate his Name And mount him up upon the Wings of Fame And make him like the Stars of Heaven shine Yea make him to the World appear Divine And make his ever Honour'd Name to live When Death has not another stroke to give Oh! 't was his pious rare and vertuous Life The Loss of whom calls for a world of Grief Had I but skill to paint his Vertues forth Sutable to his Merits and their worth So many were they and so Excellent I should but leave the World a Monument To be admir'd rather than believ'd But ah he 's gone for which my Soul is griev'd Grief in my Heart's impressions are so deep While Loveday with his Vertues falls asleep There 's no Physician in the Earth can Cure And scarce obtain I patience to endure Were't only I that did this Loss sustain The Contemplation of dear Loveday's gain Would much abate the Grief that now surprises My Love-sick Soul But hence my Grief arises His Death 's a publick Loss and every Eye Has cause to drop a Tear as well as I. His Life and Doctrine both were excellent His Doctrine sound his Life a President Mists that obscur'd God's Universal Love He did disperse and wholly did remove And though the Lord has call'd dear Samu'l hence Yet has he left us such an Evidence Of God's indeared Love to all Mankind That we who for a time are left behind Have cause to turn our Mourning to a Song And bless the Lord that lent us him so long And they which never yet beheld his Face Have cause to give God thanks that gave him space To loose those Snarls and all those Knots untie That in the Ninth of th' Romans seem'd to lie But ah He 's gone that never undertook To preach from Scripture God's most sacred Book But he so fully op'ned every part It seldom mist to satisfie the Heart But here my Muse must stop I must not dwell Upon his Doctrine lest my Poem swell Into so large a Volumn that my Theam Will quit her single Sheer and want a Ream Yet one word more to you whom God did lend So sound a Preacher and so sweet a Friend Lay up his Doctrine by you now in store For Loveday's gone will never Teach you more And you whose itching Ear and wanton Eyes Could relish nothing under Novelties Your wandring wanton Eyes now sees the Day Your loathed Manna's taken quite away Ah! that sweet Oracle no more will rouse Sin-slumbring Souls out of their fleshly Drowse Oh! he whose Doctrine dropt like showers of Rain Who often strove yea often strove in vain And with endeared Love and Souls-affection Besought you often to make sure Election Who often told you that you must suppress Your sinful Lusts your Pride your vain Excess And yet his Doctrine you did not receive For which this good Man's Soul did often grieve Ah! Death has call'd him hence he 's fled he 's gone You 've now but half your Food to feed upon O may that half that 's left you yet to use Be like the Widows Barrel and her Cruse O may we never see that Cruse drawn dry Till God be pleas'd to send a fresh supply And unto some a double Portion give In whom our Friend that 's Dead again may Live But he 's not Dead he 's only fall'n asleep Let 's cease our Mourning and not always Weep If he has chang'd his Sorrow into Peace Why should not we with him from Sorrow cease Let 's moderate our weeping for our Friend Excessive hope less weeping may offend He 's fall'n asleep who waking was so kind To leave some Soul-refreshing Food behind Come gather up some Fragments that remain And freely feed so will he Live again The first choice Dainty that I here present Highly conducing to Soul-nourishment Is our dear Loveday's choice selected Gift His Sermon preacht from Matthew twenty fift Upon the foolish Virgins and the wise It s real Worth thou canst not over-prize All you that this choice Dainty do possess Feed of it every Day or more or less And when the sable Curtains of the Night Are closly drawn then feed by Candle-light And you who for its worth would fain enjoy it Let its rich worth invite you all to buy it Those Soul-refreshing Cordials likewise Drawn from the Third of Isaiah's Prophecies By him prepar'd though not by Humane Art O! that they were engraven in each Heart His Rules for guiding of the Tongue endeavour To keep it as an Antidote for ever Which will resist the Poyson of the Tongue Which is infectious both to Weak and Strong That Sermon preacht on th' Third of Revelation Drawn from our blessed Saviour's Invitation To every Soul to open when he knocks Their closed Hearts and to unboult these Locks And entertain him as a sacred Guest To Sup with them while he provides the Feast O that that Sermon might for ever live While there 's a Soul true Comfort to recieve Here stop my lavish Muse these strains recal Attend dear Loveday to his Funeral AN EPITAPH S Samu'l lies here Entombed in the Dust A A Man both Learned Vertuous Wise Just M May Lovday's pious Life our Pattern be U Until we sleep in Dust as well as he E Earth is dissolv'd by Death its brittle frame L Lasts but a while returns from whence it came L Let Death yea let the Grave triumph a while O Our Lovday shortly will them both beguile V Under Death's ashes long he 'l not remain D Death-conquering Lovday will arise again A And shall come forth like Gold that has been try'd Y In the Refiners Fire and Purifi'd London Printed for Francis Smith at the Elephant and Castle in Cornhil near the Royal Exchange 1677.