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Upon the DEATH of the Virtuous and Religious Mrs. Lydia Minot, (The wife of Mr. John Minot of Dorchester;)
The Mother of Five Children, who Died in CHILD-BED of the Sixth; and together therewith was Interred January 27. 1667.
HEre lyes the Mother, & the Child, Interr'd in one;
Both waiting for the same Bless'd Resurrection.
She first to it was Life; Then to't became a Grave,
Dead in her Womb: To fetch it thence, Death to her gave.
The Life and Death of both, his Sov'raignty Makes known,
Who gives and takes at will, and no Controll can own.
The Fruit and Tree together here lyes pluck't, yet sure
That Root whence a Saint's All doth spring, must firm endure,
Eternal Love, in which the Sap's the same, that feeds
Each Branch, be't [...] so it needs.
ANAGRAMS. LYDIA MINOT.
1. I di to Al myn'.
TO All mine Earthly Joys and Friends I dy,
To whatsoe're below the Sun doth ly;
To All that shadow cast, and hastes to change;
To All that is pursu'd within the Range
Of Sublunary Vain's, toss'd to and fro
Of sons of men that seek to th'Pit to go.
I dy to Husband, Children, Parents dear:
Mine they were once, I theirs; ('twixt hope and fear
No unmix'd Sweet I found) But now no more
These mine can be, as they were heretofore.
My Interest's translated up on High,
To things now mine, to which I ne're can dy.
Then happy Death, my welcome I'le thee give,
'Cause now to God and Christ I ever live.
2. I di, not my Al.
I Dy, 'tis true, but yet it's not my All,
That with this dust into the Grave doth fall.
Life hath my Better part; which soon did post
By Angels Conduct, to the Heav'nly Host.
Life unto Life is gone, through th'Living way;
But that which Mortal was, makes yet some stay.
When Breath expir'd, my Life came flowing in;
My Soul reviv'd, made free from th'death of Sin,
New Light, new Love, new Joy me now do fill,
New Robes I have, new Company, new Skill
To sing th'new Song: Sure this is Life indeed;
My All's alive in dying thus to speed.
Naked o'th'Body, my Soul in Bliss is sheath'd
My Garland of ne're-dying Flow'rs is wreath'd.
Then nought but Dust is dead; at Life's Return
This also shall be quickned from its Urn:
My Death, my Grave, shall then for ever dy,
And Life shall Triumph in the Victory.
3. Dai in my Lot.
L ight sown is for the Righteous; its full Crop
Y ields Glory's Harvest, Souls fill'd up to th'top
D ay in my Lot is now, still calm, still bright.
I n leaving your dark World, I left all Night;
A scended where, nor Sun, nor Moon, we crave:
M y God, & th'Lamb's the light that here we have.
I n his Light we see light, and light'ned stay;
N o light to that of th'Everlasting Day!
O pleasant Lines that thus are fall'n to me!
T o make that Day my Lot which aye shall be.
W e'le wait (Blest Saint) till this Day break, and th'shadows flee:
S o shall our wish be crown'd, to have One Lot with thee.