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<DATE>2008-11-04</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080928.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B03237">
<STC T="W">E428</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99886973</BIBNO>
<VID>181534</VID>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="elegy">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 3 -->
<HEAD>AN ELEGY On the much-lamented Death of that late Reverend and mo&s;t Learned Divine, Dr. <HI>WILLIAM BATES,</HI> Mini&s;ter of the Go&s;pel at <HI>Hackney,</HI> who departed this Life on <HI>Friday</HI> <DATE>the <HI>14th</HI> of <HI>July,</HI> 1699.</DATE> in the Seventy Third Year of his Age.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>FLouds follow Flouds, Waves after Waves ari&s;e:</L>
<L>Scarce had I drain'd the Fountain of mine Eyes,</L>
<L>But here's a &s;adder Stroke calls for a Sea</L>
<L>Of flowing Tears: Rivers too few will be.</L>
<L>Had I an Ocean, ev'ry drop I'd &s;pend,</L>
<L>And weep until that Ocean had an end.</L>
<L>But is he dead, Great <HI>BATES</HI> of fam'd Renown?</L>
<L>The <HI>Nonconformi&s;t</HI>'s (nay, all <HI>England</HI>'s) Crown,</L>
<L>Who Lov'd and was Belov'd by all, but tho&s;e</L>
<L>Who are God's, and his Servant's, bitter Foes:</L>
<L>That Helli&s;h Crew, that hate mo&s;t them that wear</L>
<L>God's Liv'ry, and his Sacred Image bear.</L>
<L>Great Lo&s;s indeed! Sad Stroke that may portend,</L>
<L>(I fear,) &s;ome &s;orer Judgment in the end.</L>
<L>For oftentimes the Sin-revenging God</L>
<L>Takes his be&s;t Saints, that he may u&s;e his Rod</L>
<L>The more &s;evere. The Lo&s;s who can expre&s;s?</L>
<L>Or what Tongue tell the con&s;equent Di&s;tre&s;s?</L>
<L>Sure that Hou&s;e mu&s;t be weak, who&s;e chiefe&s;t &s;tay,</L>
<L>Who&s;e prop, who&s;e only Ba&s;is &s;inks away:</L>
<L>That Ship mu&s;t certainly be da&s;h'd at la&s;t,</L>
<L>Who&s;e tru&s;ty Anchor's gone, and who&s;e Main-ma&s;t</L>
<L>Is beaten down. Not but &s;ome Pi<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter">lars &s;till</L>
<L>Are left; and as it is <HI>Jehovah</HI>'s will,</L>
<L>There are &s;ome Anchors that are yet behind,</L>
<L>To keep the Ship, tho' to&s;&s;ed with the wind.</L>
<L>But now they go &s;o fa&s;t, I fear e're long;</L>
<L>(If God does not prevent) they'll all be gone.</L>
<L>God has remov'd a Pillar, 'twas too good;</L>
<L>Such fine-wrought curious Marble too long &s;tood</L>
<L>In this Thatch't Cottage, this poor Hou&s;e of Clay,</L>
<L>The Heavenly Builder took him hence away,</L>
<L>That he might place him in his Palace; here</L>
<L>He did but poli&s;h him to fix him there.</L>
<L>He's there, now &s;een by tho&s;e di&s;cerning eyes</L>
<L>That know his inward Worth alone to prize.</L>
<L>How they rejoyce to &s;ee him mount the wing!</L>
<L>Th' <HI>Angelick Chorus</HI> meet him, and they &s;ing</L>
<L>For joy, whil&s;t they attend him through the Sky,</L>
<L>And mounts his Soul far above <HI>Galaxy;</HI></L>
<L>Through fir&s;t and &s;econd Heavens, till they place</L>
<L>Him in the third, before <HI>Jehovah</HI>'s Face.</L>
<L>Where his lov'd God, Dear Je&s;us, Holy Gho&s;t,</L>
<L>Cherubs, and Seraphs, all the Heav'nly Ho&s;t</L>
<L>Of Ble&s;&s;ed Angels, and tho&s;e Saints which be</L>
<L>Clad with the Glory of Eternity</L>
<L>Do welcom him unto their Ble&s;&s;ed throng,</L>
<L>And now begin to teach him the Lambs Song</L>
<LG>
<L>Of life. His Soul crown'd now with Heavenly Bays</L>
<L>Inve&s;ted with it's bright tran&s;plendant Rays</L>
<L>Falls in with them to &s;ing his Saviours prai&s;e.</L>
</LG>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And here his ravi&s;ht Soul (which adds yet more)</L>
<L>Meets with tho&s;e Ble&s;&s;ed Saints that went before.</L>
<L>That labour'd with him in God's Holy Word,</L>
<L>And pray'd, and &s;uffer'd with him for their Lord.</L>
<L>Such as great <HI>BAXTER,</HI> who&s;e exceeding worth</L>
<L>(Now <HI>BATES</HI> is dead,) no tongue can e're &s;et forth</L>
<L>O how do they each other now embrace!</L>
<L>Rejoycing there to &s;ee each other's Face.</L>
<L>And Holy <HI>ROSEWELL</HI> too, who&s;e la&s;ting Name</L>
<L>Is carry'd far above the Wings of Fame;</L>
<L>That Heaven-born Soul a bright and &s;plendid Star,</L>
<L>That's &s;hining now in Heaven's Bright Hemi&s;phere.</L>
<L>Who&s;e Love unto his God, and for his &s;ake</L>
<L>The Suff'rings that he underwent, did make</L>
<L>Him dear to pious <HI>BATES,</HI> and to all tho&s;e</L>
<L>That Love their God, and Hate his wicked Foes.</L>
<LG>
<L>O how do they rejoyce to meet and &s;ee</L>
<L>Each other &s;afe, at Peace, and Ea&s;e, and free</L>
<L>From Bodily Pains, and from the Treachery</L>
</LG>
<L>Of wicked Men.</L>
<L>Then Holy <HI>ANNESLEY, VINCENT,</HI> and the re&s;t,</L>
<L>Who&s;e Worth and Learning cannot be expre&s;t.</L>
<LG>
<L>Oh how do they each other there embrace!</L>
<L>Rejoycing there to &s;ee each other's Face,</L>
<L>And all &s;afe landed in the Heav'nly Place.</L>
</LG>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>It's there he's gone, and therefore 'tis not he</L>
<L>That has the Lo&s;s; No, no! 'Tis only we.</L>
<L>He's only gone to that Cele&s;tial Quire,</L>
<L>Which fill'd his Prayers, his Heart, his whole De&s;ire.</L>
<LG>
<L>He's only gone where all his Pains do end,</L>
<L>The <HI>Stone,</HI> the <HI>Gout,</HI> the <HI>Cholick,</HI> which did rend</L>
<L>His Body here. Our Souls have lo&s;t a Friend.</L>
</LG>
<L>O <HI>Hackney, London, England,</HI> all bemoan,</L>
<L>It is a Lo&s;s concerns us every one.</L>
<L>A Soul-Phy&s;ician's gone that could &s;ecure</L>
<L>The Health of Souls, that could and would make &s;ure</L>
<L>Eternal Life to tho&s;e that would but hear,</L>
<L>And to his &s;weet Entreaties lend an Ear.</L>
<L>How powerfully did he the Word Di&s;pence?</L>
<L>With what Divine and Charming Eloquence?</L>
<L>With how great Love, how tender did he &s;peak?</L>
<L>Enough to make the Sinners Heart to break.</L>
<L>Methinks I hear him &s;till, utt'ring that Voice</L>
<L>That made the Sinner fear, the Saint rejoyce.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<LG>
<L>And Oh his Written Works, they'll prai&s;e him &s;till,</L>
<L>Pre&s;ent admire them, Future Ages will;</L>
<L>'Tis Rhetorick Divine, which does them fill.</L>
</LG>
<L>For he our Engli&s;h <HI>CICERO</HI> was, who dare</L>
<L>With him for Sacred Rhetorick compare?</L>
<L>PERFECT in that he &s;urely was mo&s;t fit,</L>
<L>To &s;how PERFECTION as in SCRIPTURE writ.</L>
<L>Which when he fini&s;h'd, God did him tran&s;late,</L>
<L>And make him PERFECT in a PERFECT State.</L>
<L>Where now experimentally he knows</L>
<L>The PERFECTNESS of all that SCRIPTURE &s;hows.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="epitaph">
<HEAD>The EPITAPH.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>STay, Reader, &s;tand, and &s;pend a Tear;</L>
<L>But ha&s;te, le&s;t thou &s;hould'&s;t make</L>
<L>(By too much pondering who lies here)</L>
<L>Thy very Heart to break.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Here lies great <HI>BATES</HI> mo&s;t Eloquent,</L>
<L>A <HI>CICERO</HI> and a <HI>PAUL;</HI></L>
<L>A Preacher too mo&s;t prevalent,</L>
<L>One that had in him all.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Mo&s;t Learned, Wi&s;e, and of &s;uch Worth,</L>
<L>There is not left behind</L>
<L>A Tongue that's fit to &s;et it forth.</L>
<L>His Equal who can find?</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>If he could dye; who then can &s;ave,</L>
<L>Who can pre&s;ume to keep</L>
<L>The mo&s;t accomplii&s;h'd from the Grave,</L>
<L>Where all Mankind mu&s;t &s;leep?</L>
</LG>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>London:</HI> Printed, and Sold by <HI>A. Baldwin,</HI> 1699.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
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