AN ELEGY On the much lamented Death, OF The Reverend Mr, JOSEPH CARYL [...] Late Minister of the GOSPEL; Who slept in the Lord the threescore and twelfth year of his age, and was interred the 25th. of February, 1672.
WHat unexpected damp is this we feel?
A suddain stroak that makes our Sion Reel,
Griefs Sable Livery the Godly wear,
Each Cheek looks pale, each eye big with a Tear;
The City eccho's with a dismal moan
That speaks, our Chariot and our Horsmen gone,
Caryl that powerful Soul-searching Divine
In whom Learning and Grace did jointly shine,
Whose grave discourse could make an Atheist quake
And trembling sinners Hells broad Road forsake;
The Tempest of a troubled spirit calm
And heal a broken heart wi [...] sacred Balm;
He, is snatcht from hence beyond the Sphears
And left us grov'ling in a vale of tears,
At such a loss, that unrelenting Eye
Is seven times worse than blind that can be dry;
No more shall we his melting Sermons hear
That peirc'd at once the Heart, and charm'd the Ear;
His Pray'rs, which did so warm and holy come
The Angels strove which first would bear them home,
Nor shall we more behold his pious Life
Free from Excess, Sloth, Avarice and Strife,
That sweet Carriage, which did by practice teach
And made him ev'ry day aloud to Preach,
Now taken from his needful Office here
When Harvest doth so great, and free appear;
"Souls have a care, Husband your Mercies well
"Let not Indulgence vainly make you swell
"God shews if you grow wanton, proud and Kick
"H' has other ways, to move your Candlestick,
But though(blest Soul) we may his Loss deplore
For our own sakes, for his we Tryumph more.
After a tedious Pilgrimage was past,
Spent in his Masters service till the last;
Release'd from all Toils, with joy he's gone
Up to receive a never fading Crown;
Up to those Patriarchs that did longer sit
Expecting Christ than th' have enjoy'd him yet;
Up to those Prophets which now gladly see
Their Prophecies grown to be History;
Up to th' Apostles who did bravely Run
All the Suns Course with more light than the Sun;
Up to those Martyrs who did calmly bleed
Oyl to th' Apostles Lamps, Dew to their seed;
Up to that Throng of Saints to add one more
Whom by his Ministry he sent before;
There now he glitters in that White Robe Drest
By's Farewell-Sermon so lively exprest;
Nor need we say hee's dead, for do but look
Just as an Ancient Clock is piecemeal took,
Not to be lost, but by the makers skill
Repolish't without Error to go still,
So must this trusty Grave again restore
Him far more pure and glorious than before;
As China men after some Ages stay
Do take up Porc'lane where they buried Clay;
Death gets twixt Souls and Bodies such a place
As Sin insinuates twixt Just men and Grace;
Both work a Separation, no Divorce,
His Soul is gone to Usher up his Coarse
That refin'd Clay which more Celestial
Shall be, than Angels were for they could fall;
Nor is he dead to us, his works survive
Those Monuments shall keep him still alive,
Till tyme it self shall vanish out of date
And the world sink by its last Feav'rish Fate.
His EPITAPH;
Judicious Caryl here at rest does lye;
A fathful Labourer in Gods Husbandry;
A constant powerful Preacher many years;
Whose most Industrious Penn so fully Clears,
Jobs lofty Mysteries to our weaker sight
Purging our darkned minds with Beams of Light
"Now th' Holy Author, and's Expounder meet
"And each other with Hallelujahs greet.
Aliud
Committed to his Tombstones Trust
Lies pious Caryls sleeping Dust,
Till the last Trumpets blast unite
Body and Soul in full delight;
May his Example and's Works be
A Lesson Reader unto thee
That so thy Soul when stript of Clay
May soar up the same blessed way!