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 Approx. 18 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 9 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2011-04 (EEBO-TCP Phase 2). A29843 Wing B5132 ESTC R27889 10261373 ocm 10261373 44733

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A29843) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 44733) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1378:6) 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) 16 p. Printed for John Marshall, London : 1699. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University Library.

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eng Mead, Matthew, 1630?-1699. Elegiac poetry, English. 2020-09-21 Content of 'availability' element changed when EEBO Phase 2 texts came into the public domain 2010-01 Assigned for keying and markup 2010-01 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2010-02 Sampled and proofread 2010-02 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2010-04 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

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 'twould 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) —'tis 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 ofDivine 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, into the Hearer's Heart; And Wonders of Stupendious Grace and Love, As if ſome Charming Angel from above Had touch'd his Tongue with Coals of Sacred Fire, Or as deſcended from th' Aetherial Quire: How Souls have melted! whilſt he did proclaim The matchleſs Wonders of Jehovah's Name; And whilſt with Charmer's Voice he did diſpence The Sacred Drops of Heav'nly Eloquence, He fed the Soul, whilſt others pleaſe the Mind, And ſcarce has left an equal Bard behind. The Maſculine and Nervous Strain, from whence Sprang ſuch bright Oracles of greatest Sence; Thoſe Flights of Wit refin'd, from Folly free, No fancy-pleaſing-Arts were found in thee: So Grave, yet Pleaſant, was thy Copious Stile, As ſweetly did thy Hearer's Hours beguile: So Great the Sence, and ſo Divinely ſung, That all attended to thy Charming Tongue, As if Suadela's Graces on it hung. So Seven Nations Homer's Birth contend; Such Force his Eloquence, ſo Great his End. Thus Paſſions ſtrives in every Pious Breaſt Which ſhall Bewail him most, and Love him best? Crowds call him FATHER, and in Raptures tell How by his Bow they willing Victims fell, And how (thro' Grace) he ſav'd their Souls from Hell; And every Gracious Soul doth Emulate Who ſhall moſt Love, who best ſhall Imitate: O BƲKEN! thou may'ſt boaſt, ſince from thee came A Prophet thus enroll'd by laſting Fame; Since from thy Soil ſuch Goodneſs did Deſcend, Such Worth, ſuch Grace, by better Powers deſign'd, To Rival all the reſt of Humane Kind, Such Worth ne'er Poet ſung, or Scribe e'er penn'd. His Harveſt has been large, his Seaſon long, And long he charm'd us with his Heav'nly Song: Began in Youth, and carry'd on by Grace Thro' Manhood, till old Age ſucceeds the Place: Grace planted in his Soul hath ſweetly throve, Being daily water'd by the Spirit of Love, 'Till now made perfect with just Men above; And overthrown that damn'd old Proverb; He That's a young Saint may an old Devil be. No, Grace will Triumph over Sin and Hell, For all's laid up in Christ, it there doth dwell; And from this Head of Influence is given Life, Love, and Grace on Earth, and Joy in Heav'n: If Christ can fail, then may we go aſtray, But while Chriſt ſtands we CANNOT fall away: But if we ſlip, (as we too often find) Eternal Arms ſtill ſtays us up behind; And the Eternal Covenant ſecures The Souls of the Elect while Time endures: And when they've run their Race, doth ſafely Land Their longing Souls upon their wiſh'd-for Strand; Where bath'd in Bliſs, eternally they ſing To Chriſt their Head, their Prophet, Priest and King. Thus MEAD, dear MEAD, (The Mention of whoſe Name Creates within my Heart a Sacred Flame) Arriv'd at Glory; thro' this Living Way Ent'red the Holieſt, where Eternal Day With Love and Praiſe his Raviſh'd Soul imploy, Nor ſhall Sin, Death, or Sorrow, more annoy, Or fix a Period to Eternal Joy. Faith's turn'd to Viſion, Hope Fruition tasts, And Pray'r is turn'd to Praiſe that always laſts; Love's now Refin'd, Ʋnmix'd, from Sexes free, And knows no Object but th' ETERNAL THREE: O bleſs'd Eſtate of Souls! What's Heav'n above? Nothing but the EPITOME OF LOVE: He had theſe Bleſſed Manſions in his View, His Faith was conſtant, firm, final, and true. This made Him long, till welcome Death ſhould ſend His longing Soul to her beloved Friend: So bow'd his Head, as bleſſed Jacob did, Or his dear Lord, when on the Croſs he bled, And gently ſigh'd, ſaying, Dear Jeſus come, So goes from hence to His Eternal Home: It paſs'd the Shades of Death, and made its Way Into the Manſions of Eternal Day: Saluted as ſhe paſs'd by bleſſed Throngs Of Seraphims with their Coeleſtial Songs; Who clapp'd their Wings, and welcom'd him aloud Into th' Aetherial Courts, the Sacred Crowd, For ever to Contemplate his God.
An Acroſtick Epitaph. Mow'd down by God's most ſtrict Command here lies A Fragrant Flow'r, who fell Death's Sacrifice. The other Day in beautious Order ſtood This Flow'r; for Scent and Shew exceeding good, High in its Stature, Excellent in Form, Enrich'd with Sweets, God's Garden did adorn, Was by the Crowd ador'd as Riſing Morn. Mov'd now, the Jewel's gone; here only lies Entomb'd the Cabinet, which ſhall ariſe; And Clad with Light the Jewel ſhall incaſe, Dwell both in endleſs Bliſs, and ſee God Face to Face.
FINIS.
BOOKS Newly Printed and Sold by John Marſhall, at the Bible in Grace Church Street. THE Government of the Thoughts: A Prefatory Diſcourſe to the Government of the Tongue, by the Author of The Whole Duty of Man. The Second Edition. A Hiſtory of the Union between the Presbyterians and Congregational Miniſters in and about London; with the Cauſes of the Breach. Price 6 d. A Sermon on Occaſion of the Death of the Reverend and Learned Mr. Stephen Lobb, who died June the 3d. 1699. The Second Edition. With an Epiſtle to Mr. Theophilus Lobb, the young Student. Price 6 d. By Thomas Goodwin. Truth Unvailed by Scripture Light. In three Parts. VVritten for the ſake of thoſe that deſire to behold it in his native Beauty. To which is added an Appendix, which the Author deſires to leave as a Legacy to his Children. A Short Survey of the Kingdom of Chriſt on Earth with his Saints. VVherein, 1. The New Heaven, and the New Earth. 2. The Appearing and Second Coming of Chriſt. 3. The Reſtoration of all Things. 4. The Day of Judgment. 5. The Place of Puniſhment of the wicked Angels and Men. 6. Chriſt giving up the Kingdom to the Father, are briefly handled for the Benefit of all that have not time to read larger Volumes. To which is annexed a ſhort Scheme of Expoſition on the 12th Chapter of the Revelations. Temple Songs or Hymns, Compoſed to be ſung at the Celebration of the Lord's Supper; every Hymn fitted to two Tunes for one time; the whole in every Line is to be ſaid and ſung; for the other you muſt leave out two Syllables in every ſecond Line that are printed in Black; with moſt ſorts of Hymns, and Spiritual Songs, and Pſalms. Price 6 d.