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<DATE>2008-12-03</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080927.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B03166">
<STC T="W">E367</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99889493</BIBNO>
<VID>182560</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="elegy">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 15 -->
<HEAD>THE ELEGY On that Reverend Presbyter Mr. WILLIAM JENKINS, Who Fini&s;ht his Ob&s;tinacy <DATE>the <HI>19th.</HI> of <HI>January</HI></DATE> in the Goal of <HI>Newgate,</HI> where are above Four&s;core Di&s;&s;enters, of almo&s;t as many of the &s;everal &s;cattered Churches remaining.</HEAD>
<HEAD TYPE="sub">In a Dialogue between <HI>Despair</HI> and <HI>Comfort:</HI> In Imitation of a former Elegy, in Dialogue between <HI>Faith</HI> and <HI>Sen&s;e.</HI> <DATE><ADD>29. Jan. 1685/4.</ADD></DATE></HEAD>
<HEAD TYPE="sub">Seiz'd and &s;uppre&s;t by Authority.</HEAD>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>De&s;pair.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>PRi&s;ons accur&s;t! and more accur&s;ed <HI>Law!</HI></L>
<L>Why will you from the fainting Brethren draw</L>
<L>More mournful Notes, and from their Eyes more Tears,</L>
<L>Than all the Blood of almo&s;t twenty Years,</L>
<L>Which their <HI>Reforming</HI> pious Swords ere drew,</L>
<L>When the new <HI>I&s;rael</HI> the <HI>Phili&s;tian Thou&s;ands</HI> &s;lew?</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Comfort.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Leave Murm'ring: his freed Soul has found Relief</L>
<L>From <HI>Two Confinements,</HI> both his Equal Grief;</L>
<L>Call'd by his great and potent Ma&s;ters down</L>
<L>From a loath'd <HI>Hierarchy,</HI> and hated <HI>Crown.</HI></L>
<L>Weep for thy &s;elf, for he's for Bli&s;s de&s;ign'd,</L>
<L>Leaving a Toryfied cur&s;t World behind.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>De&s;pair.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Lament I mu&s;t and will in &s;uch a &s;train,</L>
<L>Shall wake even <HI>Noll</HI> and <HI>Brad&s;haw</HI>'s Gho&s;t again;</L>
<L>I will roar out, and with a Voice &s;o &s;hrill,</L>
<L>As even great <HI>TONYES</HI> mighty Court &s;hall fill:</L>
<L>I'll call the Furies up, and &s;ummon all</L>
<L>Our aiding Friends below t'avenge his Fall.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Comfort.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Weep not; in Jayl he drew his late&s;t Breath,</L>
<L>And <HI>Ju&s;tice</HI> &s;elf's a <HI>Tyrant</HI> in his Death.</L>
<L>Great <HI>Charles</HI> his barbarous and <HI>lawle&s;s</HI> Doom</L>
<L>Was <HI>Good</HI> and <HI>Ju&s;t;</HI> but if even Law pre&s;ume,</L>
<L>Nay after a whole Age of Mercy, come</L>
<L>To touch the &s;uff'ring Saint, 'tis <HI>MARTYRDOM;</HI></L>
<L>Nor &s;hall we want tho&s;e Trumpets to declare,</L>
<L>How <HI>Rome</HI> and <HI>Hell</HI> 'gain&s;t <HI>Truth</HI> and <HI>Heav'n</HI> make War.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>De&s;pair.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Oh that my Head were Waters, for a Showr</L>
<L>Of Tears as large as fell that cur&s;ed Hour,</L>
<L>When <HI>Keeling</HI>'s Sacramental Silence broke,</L>
<L>Or <HI>Burnett</HI> in the dying <HI>Ru&s;&s;ell</HI> &s;poke!</L>
<L>Remembrance of our Dear <HI>Republick</HI> Raign,</L>
<L>And the old politick Game reviv'd <HI>in vain;</HI></L>
<L>And this dear Champion laid in Honours Bed,</L>
<L>Calls all the Brine our Blood&s;hot Eyes can &s;hed.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Comfort.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Forbear this dull Mi&s;take; thy fruitle&s;s Cryes</L>
<L>Be&s;peak Impatience: 'tis but <HI>Jenkins</HI> dyes;</L>
<L>His tran&s;migrated Spirit &s;tays, you know,</L>
<L>To animate the Brethren Saints below.</L>
<LG>
<L>His Death to us &s;hould but new Life afford,</L>
<L>Warm'd with th'old Glory, with th'old conquering Sword,</L>
<L>To fight the famous <HI>Battels</HI> of the Lord.</L>
</LG>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>De&s;pair.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Ah but he's gone! That word more Terror brings,</L>
<L>Than the old <HI>Ax</HI> that cut the Throat of <HI>KINGS:</HI></L>
<L>When Monarchs bleed, the Stroke's not worth a Tear;</L>
<L>But here our Lo&s;s does darker Mourning wear.</L>
<L>He's gone, who almo&s;t &s;ix and forty Years,</L>
<L>Preach'd up the Good <HI>OLD CAUSE</HI> in Sighs and Tears:</L>
<L>That Saint who in the Days of <HI>Reformation,</HI></L>
<L>By his long painful Go&s;pel-propagation,</L>
<L>So many Hearts, &s;o many Hands could bring,</L>
<L>To rai&s;e the glorious <HI>Scaffold</HI> of a King:</L>
<L>He who&s;e ble&s;t Labours could thus far prevail,</L>
<L>Fini&s;ht his <HI>Te&s;timony</HI> in a Jayl.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Comfort.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<LG>
<L>Cea&s;e Exclamations; tho' his Race is run,</L>
<L>Dying before the fini&s;ht Work was done,</L>
<L>By <HI>Popi&s;h</HI> Noi&s;e and pious <HI>Oats</HI> begun.</L>
</LG>
<L>Still con&s;tant in adhering to th' Intrigue,</L>
<L>O<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="1 letter"> th' ever ble&s;t <HI>A&s;&s;ociating</HI> League.</L>
<L>His pitied and untimely Fate but draws</L>
<L>Thou&s;ands of new made Converts to the Cau&s;e.</L>
<L>Dying in Jayl, he loudly Preaches more,</L>
<L>More than in all the Tubs he thumpt before.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>De&s;pair.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>If ga&s;ping <HI>Anarchy</HI> endures &s;uch Rubs,</L>
<L>When Cedars fall, what will become of Shrubs?</L>
<L>How &s;hall the faintne&s;s of a &s;trength &s;o weak,</L>
<L>The <HI>Gown</HI> and <HI>Mitres</HI> Long-loath'd Union break.</L>
<L>In <HI>Jenkins</HI> &s;peechle&s;s Tongue does &s;ilenc'd ly,</L>
<L>A greater piece of <HI>Kirk Artillery,</HI></L>
<L>'Gain&s;t Tory Laws, Crown'd Heads, and Prelate Loons,</L>
<L>Than <HI>Colledge</HI> Flails, and <HI>Rumbold</HI>'s Mu&s;quetoons.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Comfort.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>No, we'll not fear an overthrow or harm,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t <HI>Antichri&s;t</HI> and <HI>Poperies</HI> long-tried charm</L>
<L>Shall rai&s;e us Bulwarks. Who can Leaders want,</L>
<L>Under the Bannors of the <HI>Covenant?</HI></L>
<L>For tho' grim Death does home &s;ome &s;ervants call,</L>
<L>That Charm &s;hall conjure &s;trength to conquer all.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>De&s;pair.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<LG>
<L>But oh! what cur&s;t Infatuation broke</L>
<L><HI>Ju&s;tice</HI> and <HI>Laws</HI> long &s;leep, thus to provoke</L>
<L>The Royal Frowns to rai&s;e this fatal &s;troak?</L>
</LG>
<L>See trembling <HI>Sion</HI> &s;hakes. Can it be hoped</L>
<L>The Kirk can &s;tand when it is thus unprop'd?</L>
<LG>
<L>When thus our Corner-&s;tone to Fate mu&s;t &s;hrink,</L>
<L>Ah! how my troubled Soul's amaz'd to think,</L>
<L>How the whole fainting tottering Pile will &s;ink.</L>
</LG>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Comfort.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<LG>
<L>No, All mu&s;t die. In du&s;t our Prophet &s;ee:</L>
<L>Nought but our Mighty <HI>Cau&s;e</HI> &s;o &s;trong can be,</L>
<L>As to claim Patents t'Immortality.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>When the've done all, let <HI>Law</HI> and <HI>Power</HI> &s;till frown</L>
<L>Like the di&s;&s;ected Snake, cru&s;h'd and run down,</L>
<L>We'll <HI>re-cement</HI> to &s;ting the <HI>Church</HI> and <HI>Crown.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Could <HI>Peter</HI> thrice his Sovereign Lord deny?</L>
<L>Our glorious Cau&s;e that Spirit &s;hall &s;upply,</L>
<L>As &s;hall three thou&s;and times our <HI>King</HI>'s defy.</L>
</LG>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>De&s;pair.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<LG>
<L>But oh! the heavy <HI>Law</HI>'s a blow too &s;ore</L>
<L>When even <HI>INDULGENCE</HI> was no le&s;s before,</L>
<L>What's <HI>TOLERATION</HI> without <HI>Sovereign power.</HI></L>
</LG>
<L>The Kirk Dominion lo&s;t, and <HI>King</HI> re&s;tored,</L>
<L>Was a &s;ad &s;troak to'th Servants of the Lord.</L>
<L>When once the Pagan <HI>Organs</HI> play'd, too &s;oon</L>
<L>All our Spiritual Hymns were out of tune.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Comfort.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>There was a Time WE exercis'd the Rod</L>
<L>O're Heathen <HI>Strafford, Laud</HI> and <HI>CHARLES,</HI> when <HI>GOD</HI></L>
<L><HI>WITH US</HI> the Beatifick <HI>Rump</HI> empowr'd:</L>
<L>And heavenly <HI>Love</HI> in Royal Gore was &s;howr'd.</L>
<L>That dear remembrance mitigates our cro&s;&s;es,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t future hope &s;hall ea&s;e our pre&s;ent lo&s;&s;es.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>De&s;pair.</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>My Eyes mu&s;t vent my grief upon his Her&s;e,</L>
<L>And weep in earne&s;t, tho' I weep in Ver&s;e,</L>
<LG>
<L>When <HI>Ab&s;alom</HI> died, a <HI>Royal</HI> Tear was &s;hed,</L>
<L>And with great <HI>Charles</HI> an Innate <HI>Mercy</HI> bred,</L>
<L>Mourns even to take a forfeit Traitours Head.</L>
</LG>
<L>So mu&s;t I take a priviledge to mourn,</L>
<L>A <HI>Shimei</HI> or <HI>Achitophel</HI> t' his Urn.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Comfort!</SPEAKER>
<LG>
<L>Dry up thy Tears, for whom thou mourn'&s;t is ble&s;t,</L>
<L>In Death he meets the <HI>Whigs</HI> long <HI>Stranger REST.</HI></L>
<L>Tho' turbulent again&s;t the Royal Will,</L>
<L>The Grave has laid the re&s;tle&s;s Engine &s;till.</L>
<L>In-Patience wait; our rip'ning Plots attend,</L>
<L>To mount the Cau&s;e, and Righted Kirk defend.</L>
</LG>
</SP>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="acrostic poem">
<HEAD>ACROSTICK.</HEAD>
<LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>W</HI>ell now e'n Heav'nwards let thy Soul repair,</L>
<L><HI>I</HI>f thou art &s;ure that no <HI>Lawn Sleeves</HI> are there,</L>
<L><HI>L</HI>ook to it <HI>Jenkins,</HI> for 'tis worth thy Care.</L>
</LG>
<L><HI>L</HI>awn Sleeves 'tis certain no &s;mall power have &s;how'd,</L>
<L><HI>I</HI>n keeping thee from <HI>Church,</HI> if not from <HI>God:</HI></L>
<L><HI>A</HI>nd more than <HI>20</HI> mourning years o're-pa&s;t,</L>
<L><HI><HI>M</HI>itre</HI> and <HI>Surplice</HI> broke thy heart at la&s;t.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>J</HI>n the old Days, the Ble&s;&s;ed <HI>Directory,</HI></L>
<L><HI><HI>E</HI>gypt's</HI> dear Fle&s;h-pot, was thy Pride and Glory:</L>
<L><HI>N</HI>ow with the <HI>Liturgies</HI> long <HI>Manna</HI>tyred,</L>
<L><HI>K</HI>ecking to peuck th' ore-&s;training Saint expired.</L>
<LG>
<L><HI>I</HI>n <HI>Covenants</HI> and <HI>Holy Leagues</HI> long tyed,</L>
<L><HI>N</HI>o longer could the nau&s;eous Ta&s;te abide,</L>
<L><HI>S</HI>o in a kind of a <HI>Scotch Qualm</HI>he died.</L>
</LG>
</LG>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>Sold by <HI>Walter Davis</HI> in <HI>Amen-Corner,</HI> 1685.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
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