Funeral Poem to Thomas Westrow, Canto 2
CANTO the ſecond.
After a due preoccupation,
It offers to commemoration,
Particulars: Inſiſts upon
A rarely memorable-one
Illuſtrating a matchles Friend;
And, ſo, this Canto hath an end.
THe foll'wing evening, after I had heard
That verifide, whereof I was afeard
The night before, I, then a freſh inſpir'd,
To give my Muſings utterance, retir'd.
And, that no interruptions I might find,
Put all my own concernments, out of mind.
For, he that honeſtly one work, would do,
Muſt not, the ſame time, be imploy'd on two.
But, on the paper, ere I fixt my pen,
Such things, as poſſibly by other men
Might be objected, queſtion'd, or alleadg'd,
To hinder that, wherein I was ingag'd,
Ruſh'd in upon me; and, delaies, had wrought,
Had I not on a ſudden kickt them out;
And given ſome of them, (ere they would go;)
Areaſonable civell anſwer too.
Among the reſt, One (vvho ſcarce vvent avvay
Well ſatisfide vvith ought that I could ſay)
Thus queſtion'd me: Art thou become ſo vain,
To think, by charmes, and words to raiſe again
The dead to life; or, to preſerve the Name
Of freinds deceaſed, by ſurviving Fame,
Among this Generation, wherein none
Or few, regard what ſhall be ſaid, or done,
To that effect? Canſt thou have hope to bring
By poeſie (which an unhallowed thing,
Is now accounted) any due reſpect
To him, whoſe memory thou doſt affect?
Or, think that thou maiſt dignifie his Herſe,
By ſuch a deſpicable thing, as verſe?
Canſt thou hope this, when he that verſifies,
Seems but a coyner, of facetious Lies?
When lovers of the muſes, are ſo ſcanty,
That, there are hardly two, in five times twenty,
Who, if thy Poem ſerious be, will heed it;
Or, (if they will) that have the wit to read it,
More gracefully, then if an Aſſe ſhould play
Upon a Harp, or to the Viol bray?
For, neither heeding accents, points, or time,
They, only make a clinking on the Rime.
More harſhly grating on juditious ears,
Then ſcraping trenchers, which none gladly hears?
And, what, of all thy muſings, have th'effects
Been hitherto, but troubles, and neglects?
This being urg'd, I, thereto made reply
Thus, in my ſelf: Admit all this, quoth I:
Mo wiſeman fears to do, what ſhould be done
Through dread of that which may miſ-fall thereon:
Nor, ſo much cares, what may thereof be thought,
As to be always doing, as he ought.
It is the Muſes duty, to be there
Moſt active, where, moſt Difficulties are;
And, moſt couragiouſly, there to advance
Their Standards, where appears moſt Ignorance;
That to ſucceeding Ages they may leave
Thoſe things, which preſent times, will not receive.
It is a portion, whereto they were born
To be expoſed to contempt and ſcorn;
And, tis their honour, to have wiſely dar'd
Juſt things, for which, the world gives no reward.
Though Poets are deſpis'd, and, will yet more
Contemned be, (and thruſt behind the doore)
As Ignorance gets ground; and, as the Baſe
Shall riſe to ſit in honourable place;
There was a time, when Princes did contend
In Poetry, and Poets to befriend;
And, when the one ſhall conſecrate his Muſe,
True Piety, and Virtue to infuſe;
And, men in power, by Righteouſneſs maintain
Their dignity, it ſhall be ſo again.
The Muſes, in times paſt, ſo awfull were
That, they made Kings to fawn, and Tyrants fear.
The Vulger, they made Hero's; Hero's GODS:
Drew Trees and Beaſts, out of the ſalvage woods,
To follow them: That is, they drew together
Blockiſh and bruitiſh men (as rude as either
Wild Plants, or Beaſts, and them allur'd unto
What reaſonable creatures ought to do.
Their Charm threw down the vicious to that hell,
Where everlaſting Infamy doth dwell:
Raiſd up the well deſervers from the Grave,
The life of never dying fame to have,
Yea, by their charms they have expel'd the devill,
The furious, and the melancholy evill.
And, not alone in former Generations,
Among the learned, and moſt civill Nations,
Had Poeſie eſteem, and good effects,
In ſpight of envy, malice, and neglects.
But, alſo, here, and lately ſome have lived
Who, by their muſings, honor have received.
And been enabled, by their inſpirations,
To vindicate the Muſes reputations.
Yea, (in his meaſure) ev'n the barbarous Bard,
Is of his, people, ſo belov'd, or fear'd;
That, whom ſoere he pleaſes (by his rimes)
He makes to be the minion of the times
Within his Orb: And, they among us here,
Who of this faculty the maſters are
(As to the language) can th'affections raiſe,
And move the Readers paſſions various wayes,
By their compoſures; though they do abuſe
His gift, who did that faculty infuſe;
As I my ſelf have done, till he that gave it,
Inform'd me better, to what end I have it.
Then, why, with confidency may not I,
Hope by the help of ſacred poeſie,
So to embalm my Friend, by that perfume
(Which fluently will by extraction come
From his own vertues) that, a ſweet breath'd fame,
Disfuſed from the Orders of his Name,
May draw ſome after him? and make them grow
In love, with what doth from thoſe Orders flow?
And, thereby wooe them to an imitation
Of him, and to a virtuous emulation?
If David, in an fun'rall ſong preſerved,
The memory of that, which well deſerved,
In wicked Saul his foe; why may not I
Seek to preſerve a good mans memory?
Why may not I with warranty commend
The matchles love of my deceaſed Friend?
Why may not I, as fully as I can
Illuſtrate my beloved Jonathan?
If, alſo, they, whoſe poeſie affords
Little ſave empty ſhews, and ſwelling words,
Forc'd Metaphors, and frothy ſtrains of wit,
(Which on the Jancy, ticklings do beget)
Peruſed are with ſome effect that's good,
And, are moſt pleaſing, when leaſt underſtood)
Why may not I, be read by two, or three,
With more advantage both to them, and me,
Then, by a thouſand, that are pleas'd with chaff,
And, at my plain expreſſions jeer, and laugh.
Why may not I, who have advantages,
Of truth, and real merits (which helps, theſe
Impoſtures had not) trophies hope to Rear
That ſhall more laſting, and more fair appear
Then ſuch as they build, who compoſures fain
Out of the durty notions of their brain,
Or, from the vapours, that ſtrong drink infuſes,
To dignifie the ſubject of their mufes?
Why may not I, this faculty imploy,
To build up that, which others do deſtroy,
By their abuſing it? and, hope thereby
So to repreeve it from that Obliquie.
Which now it ſuffers, that, the beſt of men,
May fall in love with poeſie agen,
And, not (as now they do) avert their eyes,
As if aſham'd of him that verſifies?
For, this is part, wherto my Poems tend
Though, peradventure, I may miſs my end.
Let it not therefore, ſeem a prophanation
Of Piety, unto this Generation,
That, I adventure to redeem from blame
The gift, by ſome employed to their ſhame;
Since, it was firſt confer'd on each receiver,
To raiſe up his own ſpirit, to the giver:
And, then, to rouſe up other mens affections,
From carnal, popular, and vain dejections?
Or that, to take my Reader, by the ear,
I lay among my verſes. here and there,
Some books, with reaſon baited, which, ſometime,
Doth eatch thoſe who expected nought but rime.
Nor, let this (though a long preoccupation)
Seem to be needleſs, or a vain digreſſion;
For, though it nothing adds, to my intents,
The taking ſomwhat from them, it prevents;
Which being done, ile now proceed to that
Wherof, I purpoſe, further to relate.
The ſubject of my Muſings, being large
Tis not within my graſpings, to diſcharge
What's thereto due; nor can it be confin'd,
Within that compaſſe, which I have deſign'd.
To tell you therefore, fully, what he was,
Or, what he was not, would ſo far ſurpaſſe,
This limit, that I only muſt expreſſe
So much as may enable you to gueſſe
At what remains untold, (though it be more
Then here enſues, or hath been ſaid before)
And that I may, his inſide lay to view
Which I much better, then his outſide knew.
He was a man, indowed with no leſſe
Of piety, then moral Righteouſnes;
And in the practiſing of both, ſo harty
That, to the honeſt, and the god'y party;
(As call'd ſome are) he brought a ſupplement,
Of reall worth, as well as Ornament:
And aim'd at that reward, for which he ran,
Not in the outward, but the inward-man.
From youths extravagancies, which, (as he
Hath oft confeſſed) he once thought to be
Th'accompliſhments of Gentry, without which
They had in vain, been nobly born, or rich,
From theſe (ev'n when he moſt indanger'd ſeem'd)
He was by GODS eſpeciall grace redeemd,
(And brought off, by his providentiall hand)
In ſeaſonable time; even as a brand
Snatchd from the fire. For, thoſe commodious places,
Prepared for the Muſes, and the Grace,
To coinhabite in, for education,
Of youth in knowledge; and to keep this Nation
From Barbariſme; Places, were become
So fraught with Vices, and ſo perilſome,
To ſoul and hody, that, he was almoſt
By ill examples, and lewd conſorts, loſt.
For which, a threatning vengeance hangeth over
Thoſe Seats, that will admit of no Remover
Of what is menaced, till their Foundation
Is rooted up, or ſaved by purgation.
With what pr…varications, he, was there
Impoyſon'd, and what principles they were
Whereby he was indangerd, he to us
Rendr'd as banefull, and ridiculous
As words could make them; that, it might advance
GOD'S grace vouchſafd, for his deliverance;
And make them uſeful, unto thoſe who heard
What he was ſaved from, and what vvas fear'd.
He was among the firſt, whoſe knowing zeal,
Flamd our, to vindicate this Common-weal
From thraldom and oppreſſion; thereto moved
In conſcience, and by principles approved.
Not ſtirred up, by factious diſcontent,
By raſhneſs, want, or by malevolent
Affections, or Deſigns; though not without
Some counterpleas, in vvhat he went about:
For, in immergencies, which do relate
To private conſcience, and Affairs of State,
The wiſeſt man, his reſolution brings
To ſettlement, by various combatings.
With him, thus far'd it: Then he to withſtand
The publick Fo, was honor'd with Command;
Wherein, he ventur'd not his life alone,
Without that profit, which by many a one
Was aim'd at, and enjoy'd) but lent, and give,
And, waſted his Eſtate, to gard, and ſave
The Publique Intereſt, without a prayre
Exhibited, or temporall repair.
Unſought for, (as I verily beleeve)
He, afterward, the honor did receive
Of ſupream truſt; and, without cauſe of blame,
According to his powre, diſcharg'd the ſame;
The ſpeaking, of no needfull truth forbearing;
The powre, or preſence, of no perſon fearing;
Swaid nor by hatred, neither by affection,
To others; nor by that which ha… reflection
Upon himſelf; But, freely ſaid his mind,
And conſcience, as he did occaſions find,
In whatſoever matter was debated;
Whether the thing propos'd, to GOD related,
Or Common-wealth: if they who preſent were,
(As I beleeve they did) the truth aver.
And, if it ſo did happen that, ſometime
A tender pity, did prevail with him
To plead for mercy, on behalf of ſome
Made liable, by law unto the doom
Of mulct, or death; the ſame he never preſt
Ought further, then the Publique Intereſt,
VVith ſafety might allow it: And altho,
He felt what other men are moov'd unto.
By naturall Affections, he did ſtill
Conform his Judgment, and confine his will
To Juſtice: And, this, rather doth increaſe
His honour, then appear to make it leſs.
And, though the Author, of the Hiſtory
Of Independents, hath injuriouſly
(Among his other Leazings) added him
Unto his lying Catalogue, of them.
Who, to the damage of the Common-weal,
By their Commands, Gifts, Offices, or ſpoil,
Inriched, and aloft advanced be.
From poore eſtates, and from a low degree;
On him, that ſticks not; but, reflects diſgrace
Apparently, upon that Liers face.
For, to all thoſe, who knew him, tis well known,
That, with a large eſtate, by birth his own,
He was indow'd. His Mother, yet, in Kent
Survive…; a Lady, rarely eminent
For Charity, and for a open doore,
To ſuch as are in miſery, and poore.
And, as he no way needed to inlarge
His portion, or the Common-wealth to charge
By ſuch ſupplies, as others have deſired
(And often ſurreptitiouſly acquired)
So, he was all his life, ſo far from craving,
From wiſhing, from receiving, and from having
Gift, place, or office, whereby he might add
An augmentation, unto what he had,
That, many vvhom the Common miſeries
Had begger'd, and vvhoſe pub iek ſervices,
And wants he ſavv neglected, he reliev'd
Out of his ovvn eſtate; and them repriev'd
From ruining, vvhen helper they had none:
Among vvhichwhich number, I my ſelf, vvas one.
And, that, vvhichwhich in this kind he lent or gave
Was meant (as I beleeve) as vvell to ſave
The Nations honour, as to do a deed
Of ſimple Charity, in time of need:
For, he preferr'd, the Publick Faith before
His private Credit; and, did ſo abhor
Their Avarice, vvho by a mutual Giving,
Forgiving, and unſeaſonably relieving,
Obſtructed thoſe performances, vvhereby
Our deep Ingagements did neglected lye:
That, to prevent it, he thought fit to ſcatter
A portion of his bread upon the water
Leſt after private miſeries, things vvorſe
Enſude; a nationall, a publick curſe.
Then, thoſe large Legacies, vvhichwhich he in death
To Charitable uſes, did bequeath,
(Conſider'd, vvith his frequent bounteous giving,
To ſuch as vvere diſtreſt vvhil'ſt he vvas living.)
Do make it, vvithout queſtion evident
That he, both had enough, and ſuch content
With vvhat he had, that, he upon his ſcore
Leaves nothing, that ſhall make his Children poor
As they vvill do, vvho gave and took the bread,
Wherevvith the Fatherleſs ſhould have been fed;
And, have, vvith vvhat their Servants blood did buy,
Inlarg'd their Fields, and rais'd their houſes high.
But, I to little purpoſe thus go on
To ſet my Candle up before the Sun.
They who had eyes to ſee it did behold,
And knew as much before, as I have told.
They, who by wilfulnes, dark-ſighted be
Set up what light we can, will never ſee.
Now, ſome of you, (it may be) will ſuppoſe
That my conjectures only, I diſcloſe;
Or that a knowledge of ſuch things I fain
Which to his private actings do pertain;
Or, take them up on Truſt. If, ſo, they think,
So, let it be; I will not ſtrive to ſink
A milſtone in a ſhallow diſh of water;
Or ſeek to fill a viol, with ſuch matter,
As it admits not. Things, vvhichwhich muſt be known
As well by others eyes, as by my own
To make them certain; Ile no further mention,
Without proof it ſeem a ſelf invention
That, which hath paſſed 'tvvixt us tvvo alone;
Thoſe things, vvhereof my knovvledg can by none
Be doubted of) to mind I vvill recall;
And, out of many, bring forth one for all;
One, that ſhall ſet forth his deſerving more
Then all that I have mentioned before;
(At leſt according to that excellence
Which ſuits a ſenſuall Intelligence)
And, when vvith that expreſſion I have done,
Ile rather leave it to be thought upon,
Then imitated; till ſelf-love begins
To looſe that ground, vvhichwhich hitherto it vvins.
He, that is really a faithfull friend,
Hath that, vvhichwhich doth vvithin it comprehend
All morall vertues; yea, and, therevvith too
That charity, vvhichwhich from true Faith doth flovv:
For, ſuch a perſon cannot be alone
(In being ſo) a faithfull friend to ONE;
But alſo to all others▪ yea, extend;
His love to all GODS creatures, as his friends▪
And, doubtles▪ far above all thoſe, to him,
Who, for himſelf alone created them.
This vertue therefore, doth on men confer
The higheſt excellence they can have here;
And, this rare vertue, (vvhereof, I, the Sound
Had vainly heard before) in him, I found
And thereof, ſuch experiment vvill give
That, you ſhall think of him, as I beleeve;
And that in charity, he did out go
Moſt men, vvho thereof, make the greateſt ſhow.
That, you may know him; whom I knew ſo well,
My means of knowing him, thus, firſt ile tell.
The late inteſtine Wars, which with a flood,
Of miſeries, and with a ſea of blood
Ore flow'd theſe Nations, like a raging torrent
(Which bears dovvn all vvith an impetuous current,)
Brake in, ev'n at firſt riſing▪ vvhere then lay
My chief Eſtate, and ſvvept it all avvay;
That, little thereof, vvhichwhich elſevvhere vvas left,
Was alſo, by th' Oppreſſors hand bereft,
Save only ſome ſmall part of my Eſtate,
Conſiſting in rings, houſholdſtuff, and plate,
Which being portable, preſerved vvere,
Or got together, by my future care,
That, vvhichwhich expos'd my portion to the raging,
Of my deſtroyers, vvas, a free ingaging
Againſt the common foe: And, they, vvith vvhom
I▪ for the Publique▪ did ingag'd become,
Gave me the Publique Faith, that vvhat I loſt
Should be repaired at the publique coſt;
And, that my Children, ſhould be look'd upon
VVith favour, and regard, vvhen I vvas gone.
By theſe incouragements I did purſue
Their ſervices, untill I neither knevv
Which way my p…eſent wants, might have ſupply,
Or whereon, for the future to rely;
And then, perforce, retreated for recruit,
To proſecute the Cauſe with freſh purſuit:
VVhereof I got ſome few effects in ſhow,
VVhichWhich in the ſubſtance, prov'd not to be ſo.
But rather brought, much greater miſchiefs on me,
Then all my open enemies had done me.
For, ſome vvho had but fainedly pretended,
To that, vvhichwhich I had ſeriouſly defended;
Perceiving, me, preparing to diſcloſe
Their falſhood, did become my open Foes;
And through their Complices (who by the hand
Of Providence were weeded from the Land,
Soon after) they ſo wrought, that Innocence
And Faithfulneſs were judged an offence,
Maugre apparent proofs and demonſtrations
Yet extant, by their own examinations:
So, I was finde, confinde, and on my head
That cenſure lay'd, which they had merited
With ſeven▪ fold more; and for my ſervice paſt
Into diſgrace, was innocently caſt,
With nothing for ſubſiſtance, but, that poore
Houſe-furniture, which was within my doore.
To add more burthen to thoſe heavy weights,
And drive me, thereby, into greater ſtreights;
My Friends, and my Acquaintance, then began
To look upon me as a faulty man
Who had deceiv'd their hope▪ ſo that, if they
Who (though too few to help me) day by day
Were at my trial, had not ſeen and heard
Th'injuſtice done me, and the ſame declar'd;
I had, in likelihood, ere this day, ended
My life in want; diſgrac'd, and unbefriended.
For, as my Friends fell off, my Foes fell on
With freſh purſute of what they had begun,
And▪ had not GOD in an unlook'd for houre
Deprived them of their abuſed powre,
They had deſtroy'd me quite. But, I, at laſt
Eſcap'd; and they into the pit were caſt.
Mean while, they inſolently domineer'd,
Made ſongs and pamphlets on me; ſcoft and jeer'd,
And had ſo villifide my Reputation
To thoſe who repreſented, then, this Nation,
That, of four thouſand pounds (to which account
My due (prov'd fully) truly did amount)
I could not get one penny for relief
Of me, or mine, to mittigate our grief;
Though, I had forced words into their ears,
Which from by-ſtanders, oft, extracted tears;
And, to compaſſion, might that Judg have wan
Who neither feared GOD, nor car'd for man.
To add yet further, to my great afflictions,
GOD, with a ſicknes, (ſpreading forth infections)
Viſits my houſe, and drove all thoſe from thence,
Who were ſome comfort in my indigence,
That, being ſhut up, and excluded from
All other helpers, I, to him might come.
My children were all ſick of that diſeaſe;
Their ſingle keeper, to her little eaſe,
Was their ſad Mother, whilſt (as ſad as ſhe)
I, ſought, whereby they might ſupported be.
And we, who ſerved were, a while before
With ſixteen houſhold ſervants, (ſometimes more)
Had then, but one Boy (who, ſick alſo lay)
And one poor woman, hired by the day.
To pay, and feed thoſe, I my plate had ſold:
My Wife, the ſilver, and the lace of gold
Which lately trim'd her Garm…nts, ript away;
To buy things needfull, for the preſent day:
Her Ornaments ſhe chang'd for bread, to eat:
Then, ſold the diſhes, which did hold our meat:
And laſt of all, our higheſt valued things,
The pretious ſtones, the jewels, and the rings,
To us, from honorable Perſons ſent,
As tokens of reſpect (the ſame way went.
And what was left, ill ſpar'd though it could be)
To follow, for ought I then could ſee.
Only this hope remain'd, that GOD had ſent
A ſicknes, which by death, would wants prevent;
Or, give us by his own hand, ſome repair:
For, of his love, I, never ſhall deſpair.
In this good hope, the Worlds neglect I ſcorn'd,
And my petitions, into prayers turn'd,
Directed unto him; who only knew
My wants, and what was likely to enſue.
But, he likewiſe, to anſwer me delaid;
And for a while ſeem'd deaf to what I pray'd:
Yet knowing not, what els remain'd to do,
Or whether, or to whom, for help to go;
Nor caring (if GOD left me) for ſupplies
From other hands; I ſtill renew'd my cries
To him alone, and ſuddenly was cheer'd
With ſomewhat, which to ſence no where appear'd,
And, as a Loves, thinking (in a dream)
He hears his beſt Be oued calling him,
Starts up in haſt, and runneth out to meet
The voice that cals him, ere he find his feet,
And goes he knovvs not whether: So, with me
It far'd, who (hoping not deceiv'd to be)
Walk'd forth to ſee, if providence divine,
Would bring to ſight, or mind, ſome Friend of mine,
Or his, from whom, I might that ayd receive
Which to obtain from GOD, I did beleeve.
And, mark his goodnes, Oh! all you that read it
So mark it, and with ſeriouſnes ſo heed it
That; (if I ſhould forget it) you may be
Remembrancers, hereafter unto me
As I have been to you, in former time,
Of what concerns this Nation, and this Clime.
In this diſtreſſe, he, meets me, of whom here
I am diſcourſing; And with pleaſing chear
Salutes me thus: Amid thy troubles now
How is it with thee George? how fareſt thou?
I, anſwer'd, SIR, I live, though I am poore;
And, of my welfare, cannot ſay much more.
Take heart ſaid he; Theſe dayes will have an end,
And future times will better thee befriend.
I ſought thee at thy houſe, not with intent
To trifle out an hour in complement
But, lovingly brought thither, by a fear
Leſt more lay on thee, then thou well mightſt bear.
For, thy Petitions I, have heard, and ſeen,
Of thoſe tranſactions I have witnes been,
Whereby thou, wert oppreſſed; and wherein
Thy Country hath no leſſe abuſed been.
I, alſo publickly have heard debated
Thy claims, and when they were allow'd, and ſtated;
Saw what was juſtly, or unjuſtly done;
And am aſſured GOD will look thereon
Yea, I have ſo well heeded what thou haſt
Both lately and in former time expreſt
For GOD, and alſo for thy Countries ſake,
Whereof enſuing times will notice take
That, I, my ſelf to be obliged, thought
To ſeek thy welfare; and from GOD have brought
This token of his love▪ thus having ſaid,
Juſt twenty pounds into my hand he laid
Of currant gold; whereat (as one amaz'd)
On him with overflowing eyes I gaz'd;
Not able, for the preſent, to afford
The retribution of one thankfull word.
For, out of me, my heart away was gone
To GOD, who made him do, what he had done.
But, after recollection, SIR, ſaid I,
He …hat hath mov'd you, to this charity
Will doubtleſly with intereſt repay
What you have miniſtred to me this day;
For, GOD himſelf alone, and none but he
(Who knows in what diſtreſſes all men be)
Could, you, to me ſo timely have directed
Oppreſt with wants, and of all friends neglected
Or, ſo inlarg'd your heart, to bring relief
Proportionable to my preſent grief.
And, therefore, now il'e tell you, in what ſtate
You find me, that you may rejoyce thereat,
By making you aſſur'd, that you have wrought
A work, which in it ſelf rewards hath brought
That will requite it fully, though I liv'd,
To let ſlip out of mind, what I receiv'd.
Then, told him all, that is before expreſt,
And ſo much more as did infer the reſt
That might have follow'd, if GOD had not ſent
His charity, my ruine to prevent.
The ſame impreſſion, which his Act had made
On me, my words on him, effected had;
And, I am confident, that, had I given
To him, the greateſt gift, on this ſide Heav'n,
He had not gone away, with more content
Then, in his being made an inſtrument,
Of ſuch a timely mercy; and, that he
So opportunely too, ſhould meet with me.
Now judg, if this be true, which I proteſt
(Except the words, wherein it is expreſt,
And, ſome few circumſtances, to ſupply
The ſtory, with a formal decency,)
Is real truth; and no poetick ſtrain,
More adding, then the Eſſence did contain.
Judg now, what, I, could honeſtly have leſſe
Hereof declar'd, then here I do expreſſe,
Conſid'ring what he was to me, till then;
And, what I was to many other men.
For, at their dore, for whom I had of late,
My life adventur'd; loſt my whole Eſtate;
(And thoſe expos'd, who were more dear to me
Then life, and livelyhood, deſtroy'd to be)
Ev'n at their dore, I, periſhing was left
Of credit, and Eſtate, at once bereft:
To let me thereby know, and knowing, heed,
That in the times of triall, and of need,
Tis none of thoſe Acquaintance, or thoſe Friends,
Which we our ſelves get, or whoſe love attends
On our Proſperities; nor that, which we
Think, obligations, upon them to be;
Nor publick Faith, nor Vows, nor Proteſtations,
Either of Princes, Parliaments or Nations;
Nor that which is, nor that, which we ſuppoſe
A merit in Us, (or, for Virtue goes)
Which, for helps, are to be relide upon,
In great extremities; But, GOD, alone,
And, that, in our Deſertions, he, can make
Not only, ſtrangers, pity on us take;
But, alſo, from the malice of our Foes,
Raiſe us up help, ſalve mortall wounds, by blows;
Cure us by ſickneſs; make us rich, by loſſes:
Give us true joy, in grief; Content, in Croſſes;
A life, by dying; and the firſt beginning
Of juſtifying righteouſneſs, by ſinning:
Yea, by the hiding (for a time) his Face,
Aſſurances of everlaſting grace:
And to confirm my oft experiment
Hereof; GOD, made this Friend an Inſtrument,
To give me, of that mercy, one pledg more,
Of which, he gave me many, heretofore.
And yet, this is not all; for, ere thoſe weights
Which lay upon me; and the many ſtreights,
Then preſſing me, removed were and paſt,
(Which, ſome yeers, and ſome months to boot, did laſt)
In times of like need, he continued on
That work of mercy, thus by him began;
Till, in this manner, he, upon his ſcore,
Had ſet me, twenty hundred Crowns, and more,
Without deſiring, Band, or Bill, or Note,
To teſtifie the lending of one groat;
Or urging me, betwixt our ſelves, to ſay
I ow'd him ought, or that I would repay.
Thus much for this time: For, tis cold, and late;
And, that you may have time to ruminate
On what is ſaid; ile now break off, and borrow
An hour or two, from my affairs to morrow,
So much, of what remaineth, to recite
As ſeemeth pertinent: And ſo, good night.