Funeral Poem to Thomas Westrow, Canto 1
WESTROW REVIVED.
A Funerall Poem without Fiction.
Compoſed by Geo: Wither Eſq.
That GOD may be glorified in his Saints; That the memory of Thomas Weſtrow Eſq; may be preſerved, and that others by his exemplary Life and Death may be drawn to imitation of his Vertues.
Bleſt are the Dead who dye in CHRIST;
For, from their Labours they do reſt;
And, whether they do live or dye,
His Saints are precious in his eye.
To the READER.
READER, peruſe this thorow: For, to Thee
It moſt pertains, though WESTROW named be;
And, gives (as by the way) ſome ſhort hints, there,
To what Intents, He, chiefly doth appear,
And whereof, if good heed ſhall not be took
Somwhat, ere long, more fully will be ſpoke.
Both Moſes, and the Prophets, many a day
Have ſpoken; and a Greater one then they.
Hear them: For when GOD ſendeth by the DEAD,
His Meſſages will come with much more Dread
Then Comfort; and few men; with good effect,
Shall hear theſe, the former do neglect.
Be wiſe, or elſe; But, Ile, now ſay no more,
The Feet of meſſengers are at the door.
LONDON: Printed by F: Neile in Alderſgateſtreet: 1653.
WESTROVV REVIVED.
The firſt CANTO.
The Authors muſings here are ſhown
The Night, ere ought, to him was known
Of Weſtrowes death; whereof, the Morrow
Aſſur'd him, to his greater ſorrow:
Then, that which he hath more to ſay,
Is put off, to another day.
TWas midnight; and, I had my ſelf undreſt,
In hope, the nights remainder, for my reſt
Had been allowd; and, in that hope, all thoſe
Diſtractings, which my minde might diſcompoſe
Quite threw aſide, and haſtned to the place,
Where, that refreſhment, offer'd an embrace.
But, in ſleeps poſture, ere I down was laid,
A Thought, within my heart, ſtart up, and ſaid,
Weſtrowe, thy beſt, and moſt deſerving Friend,
Lies feeble, and approaching to his end,
By thee unviſited (though two days, now
Are paſt, ſince of his weakneſs thou didſt know.)
How, canſt thou anſwer ſuch a groſſe neglecting,
Of one, ſo well, ſo truly thee affecting?
A ſecond Thought thus anſwer'd thereunto,
(To make amends) to morrow I will go
In hope, (ſince I, for this neglect am griev'd)
A juſt excuſe, will kindly be receiv'd;
And, that Love-reall, ſhall not through defect
That's accidental, ſuffer by ſuſpect.
To morrow, ſaid a third thought, comes too late;
His Lifes Commiſſion, is quite out of date;
And, that, which might have been enjoy'd to day,
Is, by procraſtination, loſt for aye.
Thou, too too long, thy purpoſe haſt forbore,
And, never now, ſhalt hear, or ſee him more.
Yet, be not grieved, that it happens thus,
For, he is ſafe. And, as good Lazarus
Loſt nothing, by a ſickneſs unto death,
Save only that ſuſpention of his breath
For ſome few days, which did a means provide,
Whereby, both GOD, and he, were glorifide
In greater meaſure; ſo, it may, be thou,
Shalt hereby, have occaſions offered, now,
Of that, whereby, hereafter may be made
Advantages, which could not elſe be had.
Advantages! cride out, another Thought,
Alas! what good effect can forth be brought
By ſuch an Accident, if I ſhall hear
That, to be true, which yet, is but my fear?
How can my pretermiſſion ought produce
Of any future comfortable uſe?
Or, to what likely profitable end,
Can ſuch a comfortles privation tend?
In Fancies Tenneſcourt, thus, to and fro
My Thoughts were toſt, and plaid at hazzard ſo,
That very much diſtemper'd I became,
With that unlook'd for, and unpleaſing game.
Their ſilent Dialogue made ſuch impreſſions
Upon my heart, and ſo inhanc'd my paſſion
That, all the night enſuing they did keep
My mind on him, and bard mine eyes from ſleep.
I, likewiſe, have ſo frequently perceiv'd
My ſouls preſagings true, that I beleev'd
This ſad ſurmize; and thereon did proceed
To muſe, as if he had been dead indeed
And buried too. From whence, broak in upon me,
Such apprehenſions of the Favours done me,
And of his kindneſſes in my oppreſſions,
That, they exacted from me thoſe confeſſions
Which in the following pages wil enſue
To give, what to his memory is due.
Dear GOD! if humane mercy ſo indears
So ſwe…t, ſo pretious, if that Love appears
(And ſo obliging) which enjoy'd may be
By Creatures! what is that, which flows from thee?
If, little ſparklings, may beget a flame,
What may be thought of that, from whence they came?
And, why from him ſhould not my ſoul aſcend,
To claſp thy love, oh my Eternal Friend!
Who wert, and art, and wilt continue ſo,
When all the World ſhall into nothing go!
Some will at firſt, perhaps, with prejudice
Peruſe, what in this Poeme I expreſſe,
On this Occaſion; judging, that, hereby
I, ſomewhat would, beyond the verity,
Inſinuate; to make ſmall things, appear
More in the ſhow, then they in ſubſtance are.
But they ſhall ſee at laſt, that, I purſue
My Theame no farther then I make it true:
And, bear me witnes, ere this hath an end,
That, I have done but what becomes a Friend:
That, real cauſe, occaſion'd my unreſt:
And, that, of him, my thoughts are here expreſt,
Without hyperbo…es; without deviſing
Or adding, what the World cal…s Poetizing:
And, that, I rather put upon the ſcore
Leſſe, then I ow his memory, then more.
But, to the matter: being full of grief,
By what my fear had rais'd up to belief,
To ſay, within my ſelf, I thus began;
Weſtrowe, that noble ſingle hearted man,
Whom GOD, had in a time of need beſtown
To be my Friend, is now no more his own.
Alas! nor mine: Weſtrowe, that heretofore,
Was, to the Widdow, Fatherleſs, and poor,
A Husband, Friend, and Father, them to feed,
To cloath, and harbor, in the time of need.
Weſtrowe, GODS faithfull Almner; he, from whom
No needy ſoul, who for relief did come,
Went empty (if his needines requir'd,
Undoubtedly, the ſuccor he deſerv'd)
And, then, as GOD doth, he did alms beſtow
Upon the good, and bad, on Friend, and Foe.
Yea, and when none did ask, what he could grant,
Sought where to find out thoſe, who ſtood in want:
And, often, was directed unto them,
By Providence, in acceptable time.
That Weſtrowe, now, hath left us to bemoan
Our loſſes. For thereby, he can have none,
Nor meant us any: But, is gone away
That, our contentment, he make perfect may
By his well-being, in a ſafe poſſeſſing,
His portion, in an everlaſting Bleſſing:
And, that, we may look off, from him, to heed
His Love, from whom, all mercies do proceed.
Weſtrowe is gone, and we remaining have
No more of him, but what is in his Grave:
There, now, he reſteth, and exchanged hath
Life mortifide, for an inlivening death.
And, him I do behold in contemplation,
So repreſented, by transfiguration,
As having laid that earthly vail aſide
(Which from the World, his better parts did hide)
That, I will now diſcloſe them; therefore, ſtay
And, know him Reader, ere thou go away.
Nor few, nor mean Advantages he had
Relating to this life, But, theſe were made
Of ſmall account, with him; and, uſed ſo,
As if with them, he little had to do,
Except, for others ſakes: For, he denide
Himſelf, to all things, but, Chriſt crucifide;
And, in reſpect of him, plac'd thoſe among
Such deſpicable things, as droſſe and dung;
He therefore, let them paſs, to be forgot;
And, will not mention, what he prized not.
He, living, walk'd upright, in crooked ways,
And, choſe the beſt part, in the worſt of days.
He, dying, cheerfully, himſelf denide,
That (being thereby wholly nudifide
From all that was his own), he might be clothd,
With what he lov'd, inſtead of what he lothd.
And, he that can throw off, ſuch Rags as theſe,
Shall find himſelf, exceedingly at eaſe.
How, can I know this, ſome, perhaps, may ſay,
If he be dead, and I now far away:
Thus; when I ſaw him laſt, I, ſaw him then
Himſelf undreſſing, from that bane of men
Self-love, and ſelfneſs; and I know, he never
Would fall from his intention, and endevour,
Till that were done. For, I was always neer him
In ſpirit, though, I did not ſee, nor hear him.
We did communicate (when not by quill,
Or with our tongues) in ſpirit, and in will
As Angels do: yea, many times, when we
In words and terms, appear'd to diſagree,
(Becauſe of that defect which is in thoſe)
Ev'n then, in will, and ſpirit, we did cloſe:
And, they whom ſuch experiments acquaints
With that communion which belongs to Saints
Do know, that men may credibly aver,
Sometimes, what they did neither ſee, nor hear:
And, worthy my regard it doth not ſeem,
What, others, of this miſtery ſhall deem.
This confidence of Him, is but the ſame
Which he expreſt of me, when laſt I came
To viſit him; at which time, I receiv'd
Aſſurance, of what is of him beleev'd:
For, theſe, the laſt words were, which from his tongue,
I heard; and, they, from this occaſion ſprung.
I told him, that I might be faulty judg'd,
(Conſidering how to him I was oblig'd)
That, nor by converſation, nor by pen,
I, lately had with him, (like other men)
My thoughts communicated; but perſu'd
My own affairs, as if to be renu'd,
Our Friendſhip, needed not thoſe complements
VVhichWhich diſcontinance of reſpect prevents.
To ſuch effect I ſpake; whereto, he gave
This anſwer (which I oft repeated have
VVith much contentment;) trouble not thy ſelf,
VVith needleſs things, we are now paſt the ſhelf,
That ſhip-wracks friendſhip. That, which ſeems neglect
To others; and begets a diſ-reſpect,
Secures you more to me, then if you had
Left your affairs at hazzard; viſits made;
And added to your frequent viſitations,
Acknowledgments of Debts, and Obligations
As others do▪ It would not give me more
Aſſurance of you, then I had before.
For, my own heart, hath ſo informed me,
Of what you are; and of what you ſhall be
VVith an aſſurance, ſo undubitable,
(And everlaſtingly irrevocable)
That, whatſoever ſhall of you be told,
(Though we each other never more behold
Nor line comes from you) I, ſhall live, and dye,
More confident, of your ſincerity
Then, if it were expreſſed every day,
By all that you, or other men could ſay.
Theſe words (though mine) give, really, the ſence,
VVherein, he did expreſs his confidence:
In this ſence, his laſt words to me he ſpoke;
And, ſo, my everlaſting leave I took.
I think, it may inferred be, from hence,
Things may be known, beyond the reach of ſence,
VVithout corporall preſence; and that we
Of ſome things, though but part of them we ſee,
May know the reſt: He, that doth ſee me go,
And hear me ſpeak, may, without queſtion, know
That, I have heart, and lungs; although his eye
Ne'r ſaw them, or the place in which they lye:
And, he, that knows but what he hears, and ſees,
Is from a beaſt removed ſo fevv degrees,
That, I ſhall mention unto him, in vain
VVhat to the Saints communion doth pertain.
Only to thoſe I, therefore vvill proceed,
To ſpeak, vvho can beleeve, as vvell read:
To be, he rather labor'd, then to ſeem;
And, ſought his honor in ſelf-diſeſteem.
He vvanted not repute, of being good,
Save, vvhere his meaning vvas miſunderſtood;
VVhichWhich ſeldom hapned, but, vvhere prepoſſeſſion
Gain'd entrance, by a miſ begot ſuſpition,
And vvhat he ſuffered by it, did produce,
Effects, vvhichwhich vvere to him of ſome good uſe:
And ſuch as gave ſometimes occaſions, too,
Of that, vvhichwhich good to other men vvill do.
Such, as did knovv him vvell, knevv none to be
A truer Friend, or better man then he.
He, by youths frailties, learned to improve
In riper years, th'increaſe of Faith, and Love;
And, by his life, exemplified that,
Of which the Formaliſt, doth only prate
His Charity, was large; yet, what he did
As much as might be, he from others hid.
For, often, his miſdoings, he would tell,
But, ſeldom mention, wherein, he did well.
He took more comfort, in a needfull giving,
Then pleaſure, in large benefits receiving.
And (liking not their thrift, who do defer
Almſdeeds, untill their treaſures uſeleſs are
Unto themſelves) he did, by timely giving,
Forgiving, and a ſeaſonable relieving,
Shew, he beleev'd, that, thereby leave he ſhall,
More to his childe, then if he leſt him all.
And, that, he fear'd, ſhould he not fructifie,
(When, in his hungry members, Chriſt, paſs'd by)
Till, that which may be call'd his own time, came,
He, and the curſed figtree, were the ſame.
He, in his judgment, joyned not in one,
With ſome good men: But, diſagreed with none
So far, as to infringe the band of peace;
Or, hinder Chriſtian charities increaſe:
Becauſe, he knew, the wiſeſt, here belowe,
Know but in part, the things they ought to know:
And, that, to clear his ſight, GOD, now and then,
Did leave a darkneſs upon other men;
Yea, and ſometimes, a frowardneſs, to prove
And exerciſe, his patience. and his love.
The Chriſtian liberty, he did profeſs,
Without allowing of licentiouſneſs.
He, labour'd, that, the Conſcience might be free,
From force, (yea though depravd it ſeem'd to be,)
Becauſe, he ſaw more hypocrites thereby
Then Converts made; and, that hypocriſie
Is worſe then error; For, it ſeldom burns,
For Conſcience; and, to GOD, as rarely turns.
Becauſe likewiſe, he was not vvithout fears,
That, ſome, vvho burn'd in zeal, to weed out tares,
Might purpoſely, or cauſually, inſtead
Of that which they pretended forth to weed,
Either pluck up the wheat, or do it hurt,
By careleſs treading it, into the durt.
For, hardly, can diſtinguiſhment be made
Twixt Ray, and Wheat, when they are in the blade.
Moreover, ſince the owner of the Corn,
Commanded, that ſuch weeds ſhould be forborn
Till Harveſt, to aſſent, he was afraid,
That, this Commandment ſhould be diſobaid,
Leſt, to himſelf, he might contract the guilt
Of blood, that may be innocently ſpilt.
And, from this tendernes, ſome took offence,
Not juſtly given, or ariſing thence.
If, he ſometimes, did put himſelf to trouble,
By vainly building, with wood, ſtraw, or ſtubble,
(As all men do) which quite away conſumes
To nothing, when the fiery tryall comes;
The loſſe was his, which only did redound
To loſſe, of what, was better loſt, then found.
He was but man; and man at beſt, is light,
And muſt have grains allow'd to make him weight.
As he had fallings, and his humane failings,
So he had alſo riſings, and prevailings;
And all GODS Saints have leſſe advantag'd been,
By their own righteouſnes, then by their ſin:
For, both muſt be diſclaim'd, and they brook worſt,
And find it hardeſt, to renounce the firſt.
He, by ſtil cleaving to the true foundation,
(And gratious Author of our preſervation)
Found himſelf ſafe, when all thoſe works were gone,
Which he had vainly builded thereupon.
And was well pleas'd to ſee that turn'd to ſmoke,
Wherein, he, formerly had pleaſure took.
Which▪ vvere it heeded vvell, vvould (ſans all doubt)
Conclude thoſe Quarrels, which ariſe about
Our ſuperſtructures, and muſt be denide
As uſeles, when by fire they ſhall be tride.
To truth eſſentiall, he did firm adhear
Although ſometimes, in termes, he did appear
To leave it: And, when thither he retired,
Where, he in quiet privacy, expired;
His mind, he ſo compos'd, did ſo confute
All ſelf-miſtakings, by a ſelf-diſpute;
And, ſo examined, and ſo repented,
All, whereto by miſtakes he had aſſented,
Unwarrantably (whether, it related
To ought which had been publickly debated,
Or privatly; For Church, or Common-weal
For GOD or men.) And, there, ſo ſetled all
His Intereſts; that vvith a quiet mind,
He did enjoy the peace, he ſought to find;
And▪ unto GOD, a reſignation made,
Of will, opinions, and of all he had:
Even of his ſelfnes; and therein, found more
Enjoyment, then, in all the world before.
His body, was conſumed, by the zeal
He bore to GODS houſe, and this Common-weal,
(And, by foreſeeing, that he might outlive,
The honour of that Repreſentative
(Of which he was a Member,) For, when he
And I, our thoughts confer'd, we might foreſee,
That, in a ſhort time (as my muſe foretold,
Some moneths before it came) that happen would
Which now is come to paſſe, although thoſe few,
Who to the Publike Intereſt were true,
Had neither counſel, nor endeavour ſpar'd,
To help keep off the miſchief that was fear'd.
Ere, therefore, actually it did enſue,
Tir'de out, with vain endeav'rings, he withdrew▪
A place for his retirement he had choſe,
Near to the Banks of Thame, vvhere backvvard flovvs,
The Tide at higheſt, up againſt the ſtream;
That, he might neither be too far from them,
To vvhom he had Relations, nor too nigh
To ſuch as might diſturb his privacy.
There, what he could not other waves promote,
He ſought to further by a zealous Vote.
There, private prayers, offered he at home,
That, GOD himſelf would (for the time to come)
Aſſume the Work, and call in thoſe thereto
Who, might accompliſh, what they could not do.
The World, thus left He, er'e it him forſook:
Againſt the Fleſh, the Spirits part he took;
And by their combatings, attain'd to have
A Reſurrection, er'e he had a Grave.
But, lo, their long fought Battel novv is paſt,
The Spirit triumphs, and the fleſh, at laſt
By yeelding to be conquered, hath vvon,
More, then by being victor, it had done;
And now is lodg'd, in her withdrawing-room,
To reſt, untill the tiumph-day ſhall come.
There, from it labors, let it therefore, ceaſe;
There, let it lye in hope, and reſt in peace,
Till, to a better life, that Fleſh, and we,
Rais'd by a ſecond Reſurrection be
There to appear, where we ſhall fully know
What is but darkly, apprehended now:
Where, we ſhall ſee the root of all thoſe things,
Whence flow our needleſs bitter Quarrellings;
And, where, accordingly we ſhall receive,
To what we acted, or, as we beleeve.
Oh! come LORD JESUS come, and fetch us thithes▪
Gather thy Saints, and choſen-ones together;
And, mean time, in that Saint be glorifi'd
For whoſe commemoration I provide.
By thine, and their examples, who do follow
Their ſteps, Oh! ſo inform us, how to hallow
Our hearts, ſo cleanſe our hands, and guide our feet,
That, they now gone before, and we may meet.
Thou, that art both our life, and way therto;
That open door, through which we are to go:
A Fountain alwayes flowing, to refreſh
The thirſting Spirit, and the fainting Fleſh;
Supply unto us, by thy Holy Ghoſt,
What, by our ſelves, and others, we have loſt.
O thou! who (being GOD'S eternal Son,)
To free us, from a dungeon, leftſt a Throne,
And, underneath his heavy wrath didſt lye
Till thou crid'ſt out Lamaſabakthani.
To Heav'nly joyes, convert our earthly greef;
Decreaſe our doubtings, and increaſe Beleef;
Our carnal love, improve to love divine,
Till our Affections looſe themſelves in thine?
Oh! let that Love, from whence all beings flow,
Which made all things above, and all below:
Whoſe Wiſdom, did firſt ſet them in their way,
Whoſe Providence, preſerv'd them to this day,
And ſhall hereafter, govern and diſpoſe,
That which keeps Order, and that, which miſgoes,
Oh! haſten to perfection! haſten on,
The work intended, ere the world begun;
And, let that Glory, which produce it ſhall,
Be his (and his alone) that's ALL in ALL.
Thus, muſed I, or, much (if not the ſame,)
To this effect, before the morning came.
Theſe contemplations, ere I knew him dead,
By thinking on my Friend, conceiv'd I had,
Which afterward, in words, thus, up I dreſt;
To leave it thereby, vocally expreſt,
What penance, I was put to, for omitting
A duty, my obligements well befitting
Then, as the dawning Light began to creep
About my Chamber, I fell faſt aſleep.
Next day, (no longer meaning to defer
A Viſit, but till means prepared were)
I, meeting with a Friend of his and mine,
Informed him, what, I did predivine;
What I had ſuffered, what, I have done,
With what, I had that day reſolv'd upon;
And, to prevent it, was aſſur'd by him,
That, my Preſagings, were no idle dream;
For, he was dead indeed, and on the morrow
To be interr'd; which did renew my ſorrow,
And, reingage me, further to purſue
What, to his pious Memory is due.
For, there is much behind, as yet unſaid;
Which, being truly known, and duly weighd
Will add a fairer luſtre to his Fame;
Not without ſome reflectings, to my ſhame,
For, leaving him, without a Valediction,
Who was ſo true a Friend in my affliction.
Aſſoon therefore, as I have gotten leiſure,
What's yet remaining, forth in Words, to meaſure
Expect it; and in pawn thereof, (till I,
Shall to your view expoſe it) let this lye;
With this enſuing Epitaph, till He
Shall honour'd, by a better muſing be.
The EPITAPH.
HIs GRAVE (though he deſired none
With Name, or Title thereupon)
Was made below this Marble ſtone?
And, here, interred, now, He lies,
To wait CHRISTS coming in the Skies,
At whoſe approach the DEAD ſhall riſe.
Yet, ſeek not here, among the DEAD,
(On ſtones, or braſs, or ſheets of Lead)
What, to his honour may be read:
But, if you more of him, would hear,
Peruſe the ſheets, whoſe Forefronts bear
His NAME inſcribed; and read him, there.
For though that MONUMENT be built
Withou coſt graving paint, or guilt,
It ſhall remain, when this is ſpilt:
Yea, though it hath but paper wings,
It ſhall out laſt, thoſe laſting things,
Which, make up Monuments for Kings.