ON THE DEATH OF MR. MATTHEW POOL. ANAGRAM • MATTHEW POOL. , and • O the LAMP Out!
OUR LAMP is out! Needs must we mourners be;
Darkness is Natures Mourning Livery:
When Sun sets, Lamp a while, prolongs the Day,
And on that hasting light, Embargo's lays,
This Lamp was sent, the Evening to clear,
Of the declining World; but now I fear,
Its Courfeu rings; its sure dead time of Night,
When Death (like Bell-Man) crys, Put out your light.
A Lamp indeed; well may Men stile him so,
He spent himself in giving Light to you,
For whilst with restless Wit, the Criticks vast
Conrracting; he in lesser moulds doth cast,
And yet illustrates; making all confess,
Divinity grows more, by being less:
As light of Sun, contract'd in Burning-Glass,
Doth hotter grow, and brighter than it was,
Death takes advantage, at oppressed Nature,
And proves at last, the great abbreviator.
One Work he wholly finish'd, nor much less,
A Second, when Death stopt the teeming Press.
Ask not his Age then (Reader,) for 'tis clear,
This Learned Man dy'd in his Critick Year:
Thus our bright Lamp expir'd, yet left behind,
A Work whose Beams through Christendom hath shin'd.
Each wise Expositor, a Star is nam'd,
But here they are in Constellations fram'd.
Clusters of light combin'd Heavens milky way's;
But a SYNOPSIS made, of lesser rays:
Long live! thou mighty Treasury, of Food Divine,
Thou Mine of Wealth, thou Heavenly Magazine
Of Light! thou Universal Remedy
Of Ghostly Maladys; henceforth wee'll thee
Call Our CATHOLICON; for whither sure,
Should Sick Men go, but to the POOL for Cure.