AN ELEGY On the Death of that Eminent Minister of the Gospel MR. NATHANIEL PARTRIDGE, Who Exchanged Mortality for Immortality, Aug. 6. (84.
Weep Sion weep thy pretious Pillars fall
A Prince in thee is faln this Funeral.
While Cater-pillers stand and strut about,
Yea flye aloft making an Hideous Rout:
Those painted Butter-flyes blast all thy Greens,
On all thy Synagogues venting their Spleens.
Twice had the Hawks upon this Partridge seizd,
And with their Talons him severely teezd.
Long did he lye in New-gate where he was
A blessing Rich to Dying Pris'ners, as
He took that Season when condemnd they lay
In Irons, and on Execution Day,
Asham'd he was not of their bonds or Fetter,
To save their Souls and make their Deaths the better.
To Forraign and Domestick he was blest,
His piercing Counsel pierc'd the Polish breast;
That Barbarously murderd 'Squier Thinn,
Made penitent while th' Jayl was both their Inn:
To sundry Natives was this Man of God,
In Prison useful, teaching by the Rod.
Which then did justly lash, yet whipd them home,
(As was the Prodigal, in Sacred Tome)
Through this mans wise improvement from the word,
Thus in converting work he serv'd the Lord
In Prison also, where Gods word's not bound,
As he had done when Free walking his round.
Thus like to Paul the Aged, who while Free,
Had many converts Jews and Gentils, He
Had his Onesimus begot in Bonds,
So Partridge both while free and when Absconds,
Raiseth up Seed to Christ his Elder Brother,
Gentle and Simple, both come, one and other,
In at his Daily call, none could withstand,
The pow'rfull charms of his so Heav'nly Hand;
A Spiritual Father He became to many,
God seald his Ministry as much as any.
His work God gave him in this World's now finish'd,
Though through Cordoliums, yet not Diminish'd
Shall be his wages in a better World,
Where none by Frights, by Fears, by Tears are Urld.
At th' Blazing Star he blazed out and Burnd,
To New Jerusalem till Old-Street turnd;
Let all His Hearers now with Sion weep,
Repent of sin, least you go down to th' Deep,
Remember how this man of God did shake,
The Tree of Life until his sides did Ake,
That Golden Apples might drop down from it,
For you to gather and not wast one bite,
But feed your Souls with all to lasting bliss,
And th' narrow way that leads to Life not miss.
Your Sheephard's gone, the Sheep must follow after,
From th' Vale of Tears to th' place of joy and laughter.
He his Hosannahs had on Earth in pray'r:
But now in praise his Hallelujahs are.
Sounding aloud among the Heavenly quire,
Far sweeter than the Swan at his expire.
Or any Earthly Partridge, mounting Larke,
Shines as the Moon above the Doggs that Bark
But cannot bite this pubble Partridge, how
Pubble with grace was he, with glory now,
His Vessel's fild top full this Gospel Starr,
Shines in an higher Orb, than others farr.
Quaint in his Preaching, holy in his Life,
Ʋrim and Thummim made a lovely strife
Which should Exceed in him, Elijahs gone,
By th' Spirits Residue, Elisha shone
With doubled Gifts, oh that survivers may!
Stop up this Gap in Divine Judgments way.
EPITAPH.
Here Lyes a {HI}Divine Partridge{/HI} who did Flye,
Not low as th' {HI}Common{/HI} doe, but {HI}Eagles{/HI} High.
Now is He flown above the Reach of All
The {HI}Hawks{/HI} and {HI}Harpyes{/HI} that make many Fall.
London, Printed by J. How, and sold by John Pattman, at the Popes-head, in Moor-fields, 1684. 161.