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Ευρ [...]κα. The VERTUOUS WOMAN found.
A Short Essay ON The Memory OF Mrs. MARY BROWN, Late Consort of Benjamin Brown Esq. in Salem.
Ruth III.11.
All the City of my People does know, that thou art a Vertuous Woman.
BOSTON: Printed by Bartholomew Green. 1704.
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TO Benjamin Brown Esq. in Salem.
SIR,
I Know with what Eyes, You have Look'd after the Desire of your Eyes, upon her taking her Flight from you, unto the Upper and the Truer Salem. And if your Tears upon the Funeral of so Charming a Vertue, have left them able to Read any thing, there can be nothing more acceptable to them, than the Reviv'd Image of that Vertue, to Survive the Funeral.
Her Sex will not need Cornelius Agrippa, and an hundred more Authors of his Form, to be their Advocates, while such Excellent & Exemplary Persons, as your late Consort, arise in a Practical Advocateship to demand our Estimation.
Though you must lose the Satisfaction of being Enrich'd with her Natural Offspring (by a Shipwrack on the very Stocks,) Yet let it now satisfy you, that the Gentlewomen, that will imitate her, shall be her Daughters, and will call her Blessed.
[Page]Some Eminent Persons, have left it as a Dying charge unto their Friends, That they should allow no Mean Verses to be made upon them. Had Madam done so, this Essay had also been Stifled in the Birth; for the Author is not more a Stranger to You, than he is unto Versifications: Neither a Poet, nor the Son of a Poet.
What Poetry, unto which he does not in the least measure pretend, could not help him to Accomplish, Affection to you and yours has mov'd him to Endeavour. He Prays you, not so much as to enquire, Who tis; All that he will Tell you, is, That he is one who Prays for you, That by a Profound Resignation to the Will of God, and Mortification to a World which (now at least) you find remarkably Embittered, you may be prepared for the best of Consolations.
Let none blame him for Embalming the Memory of a Religious Gentlewoman: Tis what Jerom, and above a Thousand more, have done before him.
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An ELEGY Upon the DEATH of Mrs. MARY BROWN; Who Dyed in Travail, (with her Unborn Child;) On Dec. 26. 1703. Aetatis Suae 35.
MOnopolizing HEE's, pretend no more
Of Wit and Worth, to hoard up all the store.
The Females too grow Wise & Good & Great;
Some such in happy Salem find a Seat.
Beware, my Sex, lest Females Win the Day,
And Shame Us with reviv'd Hybristica.
Plutarch, Return to Life, and Write agen,
Of Womens Virtues, to Upbraid the Men.
When Vertuous Women are in Books Enroll'd,
Let our bright MARY's Name and Fate be told.
Of Glorious Women, O Great Hottinger,
In thy brave Catalogue, make Room for her.
America thanks Europe, and does boast
Her sending such a Gem unto our Coast.
[Page 2]Come hither, You that the fair Sex reproach;
Confuted now, no more your Scandals broach.
ONE rescues here the Fame of all the Sex;
And will your Contradicted Envy Vex.
With no Sett-Offs, but Truth in every Line,
We do Delineate our Heroine.
Grammar makes TRUTH, a SHEE; we shall with care
Nothing but very Truth of Her declare.
TRUTH, Thou shalt be my Muse, and first relate
How MARY Shone first in her Virgin-State.
To Learn or Do some Good thing every Day
Was the Prime Study of this Agatha.
Ambitious Early to Enjoy a Mind,
From Earth, and Foggy Ignorance refin'd.
A Bible, not Romance, her Eyes before,
Then daily help'd her Heaven to implore.
Tutors one never more obedient saw;
Their Word, their very Look, She made her Law.
To fill her Soul with high Attainments, Shee
Gladly Out-Labour'd the Industrious Bee.
No Hind Let Loose; but Guarded well, and grave;
Most Goodly Words, yet our Eulalia gave.
Not Confident; Like Damsels which their Chin
Contrive more than their Tongue, to Bridle in.
Not of the Gadding Tribe; nor could She bear,
So Chast! the least Indecent Thing to hear.
With still a Silent Blush, her Rising Blood
Spoke in her Face, Care to be very Good.
Pale with the Fear of doing ill, and Red
With Modesty, was all the Paint She had.
[Page 3]Go on, dear TRUTH, charge once Truth-Speaking Fame
To Tell whose Wife, & What She then became.
BROWN to the Lottery of Worth drew near;
He drew a Prize, a matchless Prize, in Her.
Not Wealth, but Solid Worth, in her he sees;
He see's Rich Vertues, and is charm'd with these.
O Parents, Pity the fond Sons of Men,
And your fair Daughters well adorn for them.
With Useful Knowledge fraight their Tender Souls;
Why should they Empty be, but Noisy Fools?
Teach them the Skill an House to Guide & Feed,
And with Kind Mates an Easy Life to Lead.
Goodness to them, and all Good Humour Show;
The Pious Parents Shap'd their MARY so.
The Wretch that is alone to Mammon Wed,
May chance to find a Satan in the Bed.
She's Rich! That's all they say on her behalf:
Her Gold you Worship, and a Golden Calf.
Wink hard and Wed; a Bag and Baggage too,
In Markets often do together go.
Who by meer Hundreds and by Thousands choose,
A Thousand tis to One, themselves they loose.
The Rigging of the Ship; the Tear & Wear,
Will soon cost more than all She brought with her.
Why should her Dress Ensnare? Tis dearly bought:
Poor Woodcocks that are in a Ribbon caught.
Or why her Dance bewitch? Upon an head
Not like John Baptists, her Light Feet shall tread.
BROWN Steer'd not so; He ask'd, A Vertuous Wife,
The Soul, and Salt, and Joy of Humane Life.
[Page 4] A Vertuous Wife, Heav'n did on BROWN bestow;
So Heav'n Rewards its Favourites below.
A Wife indeed! Which now so few attain,
Some are so; and thou MARY in the Van.
Happy the Women were, and Happy too
The Husbands, if the Sex were more like YOU.
Oh! Would they Carriage from your Conduct learn;
Be Neat; but make their Soul, their main concern.
Her BROWN, how did She Love, & please & prize;
And Saw none but that Covering of her Eyes!
The Persian Law, She would not Alter too,
That Wives give to their Husbands Honour due.
Blame not the Rabbi's now for what they Write,
How Heav'n did Adam and Eve, at first Unite.
Two Bodies then if Heav'n in One did frame,
Two Souls here met in One united Flame.
Sir, Tho' you Cloath'd her as you Lov'd her, well;
She would of You, more than her Cloathing tell.
So Philo's Wife, with mean Array Content,
Her Husbands Worth, call'd Her best Ornament.
Had you been Lame, She'd been the Herpine, who
In Arms a Thousand Miles had carried You.
Or had it been your Hap to first Expire,
She had felt more than Portia's Coals of Fire.
When did She ever once your Patience try,
Or make an Head-Ake in the Family!
Yes, Once at Last; She did your Love offend;
T'was by her Daath; but never, Sir, till then!
Martyr of Love to You, Lov'd Rachel Dyed;
And what must now dear BENJAMIN betide?
How many means black Death at once to kill?
She felt Two Death's, and YOU a Thousand feel.
[Page 5]BROWN and his Bride with Vertuous Love display
How Christ does Love, and how his Church obey.
Why did'st thou Father Jerom, say, That Strife
Must be Essential to the Married Life?
Here was a pair, the only Strife of whom
Was who should in their Goodness overcome.
Oh come, Tertullian; Teach me to declare,
The Happiness of such an Happy Pair!
Ye Popish Dogs, At Marriage bark no more;
Unclean so Devils burn, and Single Roar.
Marriage, That Honourable Chastity,
Let none but Filthy Antichrist decry.
But tell, fair TRUTH; for thou hast more to tell:
What MARY was; Not, where's a Parallel!
Her Beauty let Agrippa's Pen define;
Call it, A Lovely Ray of Light Divine;
A Soul of Heav'nly Lustre Shining thro'
An Earthly Lanthorn of a Glorious hue.
A Body of a Frame so fine and Rare,
When was there Matter seen to Thought so near?
(So Fair; but not Enslav'd unto the Smoke
Pip'd by the Dames under the Indian Yoke!)
But NOYES, except Thou do a Pencil find,
None can Paint out the Beauty of her Mind.
Embodied Vertue She; The Spangled Sphere
Look'd for her, and such Lustre must be there.
A Patch'd Face could not suit so sound an Heart,
Spotts to the Skin clear Souls do not impart.
Sincere; She Paint abhorr'd; A Jezabel
May Paint, but Meat unto the Doggs she fell.
[Page 6] Prudence the Mother of all Vertues here,
Before She was a Mother came to Her.
The Harmless Dove nothing of Serpent had,
But Prudence for to serve and help her Head.
By the Polestar of Piety She Steer'd;
And no mishaps but those of Sin She fear'd.
When JESUS call'd, His Mary came to Him,
Clasping the Feet that came her to Redeem.
With Tears to Channels of Repentance turn'd,
Faults known to none but Heav'n, & Her, She mourn'd.
And yet these Lovely Pearls, her Tears, She thought
Must to her Saviours Cleansing Blood be brought.
The Worlds base Idols, her brave Soul despis'd
And what the World Adores She Sacrific'd.
CHRIST ask'd the Heart of Her for whom He dy'd;
Great LORD, I'm thine! Her conquer'd Heart reply'd.
His Righteousness alone She chose for that
Wherein to Stand before His Judgment Seat:
To that Kind Shepherd, gladly She Resign'd
To Lead and Rule by Grace her Lamb-like Mind.
Her Hands to God oft Lift in fervent Prayer,
(Hands in Redeeming Blood well Whit'ned) were.
When the rare Pastors had their Sermons done,
Her Doing was, the Repetition.
Banquets not in the Hall, but at the Door
She still preferr'd, there for to feed the Poor.
Her old Cloaths, on the Poor, a Neater Shew
She judg'd, they made than on her Self her New ▪
Ye Writers on the Decalogue, Stand by;
Durham and all the rest, shall Needless ly:
The Life we saw our pious MARY Live,
A Commentary to the Life, did give.
[Page 7]But, Oh! the Fourth! —Tell, How She Sabbatiz'd;
And how the Rapt'rous Day She spent and priz'd.
The Day of God, which all our other Dayes
As worth Ten Thousand of them all, do praise;
The Day which all Enlightned minds confess,
The Day-break of Eternal Blessedness;
The Day; Incomparable Day; so fair
None among all Times flying Children are:
The Map of Heaven, the Light of Earth, or which
God from Deep Treasures does our Souls Enrich.
She Lov'd the Day, She Lov'd the LORD, of whom
The Day proclaim'd his Rising from the Tomb.
MARY this Day knew what it was to have
Joy in a JESUS Rising from the Grave.
Bright Day, Thou Soul of Piety; we see
All True Religion Lives or Dyes with thee.
My Heroine saw this, and kept the Day;
This was, or None, She saw, to Heav'n the way
Vain Things Lay by; but with a Zealous Heart,
Now MARY chose and sought the Better part.
So on THIS DAY at last She must Expire,
And to a Sacred Rest with CHRIST Retire.
The Seventh and the Sacred Day, the Dove
Takes for her Flight unto the Ark above.
O Chrysostom, Revoke thy gross Abuse;
How could a Golden Mouth such Dross produce?
A WOMAN, as True Friendships Enemy,
True Evil but Good painted, to decry?
[Page 8]What Mother had the Father op'ning thus?
Or was he but a Terrae Filius?
An Admirable MARY does refute
The Clamour, and strike Ev'ry Satyr mute.
But stay; Bold Quill; Touch not that String too Long
Lest Length may do at Length her Vertue wrong.
Who knew her need no Verse of mine; for they
Know more than my Imperfect Verse can say.
Who knew her not, will vainly think that none
Can say beyond that which by me was known.
My Pen so Silenc'd will by Silence speak
It self to Celebrate her Praise too weak.
Tell only What's her Fate, or, That She's Dead;
Twill be impossible then to proceed.
A BIRTH of One, to Both a Death becomes;
A Breathless Mother the Dead Child Entomb's.
Sad Fate! But for another BIRTH we wait:
She and her Infant, will be Twins in That.
With Tears that cannot stop, till then we must
Behold a Diamond Lying in the Dust.
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A POEM On the DEATH of the Pious and Vertuous Gentlewoman Mrs. MARY BROWN, Wife of BENJAMIN BROWN Esq. Who (having Liv'd just Five and Thirty Years) with her Child, Dyed in Child-Bed. December 26th. Anno Domini, 1703.
Written in Commemoration of the Dead, and Consolation of the Living.
NO Wonder, Sir, if You be Sorely griev'd,
Husband & Father, both at once Bereav'd!
Bereav'd of her, should in your Bosome be!
And of what should be Dandled on your Knee!
Ship, Cargoe, Root & Branch; both Fruit & Tree
All Swallow'd up in one sad Ruine be!
And the Sole Owner Mourning left alone,
But one of Three, when One, is next to none!
Sense saith, Your Case is desperately sad:
Faith saith, The Tempest was not half so bad.
[Page 10]The Ship & Cargoe's Sav'd, The fruitful Tree,
Both Root & Branch, to Heaven Transplanted be.
The Dam & Lamb were in one COVENANT:
Both had that Shepherd would not let them want.
When the blest Virgin had our Lord Conceiv'd,
A Mother and her Child in Him believ'd,
Such Correspondence Then was held between
Two Little Infants that no Eye had seen,
As Joy'd Two Mothers, Made an Unborn Boy
Within his Mothers Womb to Leap for Joy.
Sure Job had never Cursed his Birth Day
Had not there been to Heaven an other Way.
Nor did Hilkiah's Son wish to have dy'd,
Too Soon for to be Sav'd, and Sanctify'd.
The Mother and her Child could not be Sever'd,
Yet Neither of them Dyed Undeliver'd:
Whose Souls find Heaven, & Bodies find a Grave,
Christians Believe a good deliverance have.
Her Groaning's Over, and She hath assign'd
Her Groans & Moan's, to those, She left behind.
Although her Lying Inn will not be done
Until the Glorious Resurrection.
Then Eve's Curse will be off, and then no doubt,
Such Mothers will bring forth, and not Cry Out.
Their Babes Unmidwiv'd will be (past Objection)
Children of God, and of the Resurrection.
And this, I hope, will Satisfaction give
The Mother and the Child will Then Both Live.
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SIR, Take it for a Consolation Cup,
It will be Then a Joyful Sitting up.
O Blessed Day! when Joy shall be Increas'd,
Ten Thousand Times above the Gossip-Feast.
Mean while the Husband doth bewail his Crown,
And we, an Ornament of Church and Town.
One of the best of Women, Wives, and Friends,
One of the best of Saints, her Life thus Ends.
When Shrieking Mothers fly with Child in Arms,
It is to hide Them from Approaching Harms.
I dread the Omen much, when such as She,
Foresee what They had Rather Dye then See.