On the Death of Mr Noadiah Russel, Poem 1 – Acrostic
On the much Lamented DEATH of the Reverend Mr. Noadiah Russel, Late Pastor of the Church of CHRIST in Middletown, who had his Clayey Tabernacle Dissolved and his Mortality Swallowed up of Life, December 3d. 1713. Aetatis Suae, 55.
DID Isr'el Mourn when holy Sam'el dy'd?
Or when, they of their Aron were depriv'd?
When Saul was slain, and when, great Abner fell
A hearty grief that Monarchs Tears did tell.
Elisha dying, Wicked Jo… Cry's,
Whom once … Slighted now to late does Prize
Both Isr'els Sons and the Egyptians Fierce
With Ecchoing Moans did follow Jacobs Hearse.
And shall sweet RUSSEL unlamented Die?
Twould speak we're Sick of deepest Apathy;
Ay! worse than Brutes, more Stupid far away
Who howl & moan when Mates become a Prey.
Let cease our Joy, and …ables only wear,
Let nought but Sighs of dismal Grief appear.
Come all his Flock, his Houshold Brethren too,
Ye Priests of GOD Enfeebled by this Blow.
Oh come from ev'ry Place, come Join in One
Our Grief conjoin'd, will make the louder Moan
Forbear a Smile, let Tears stand in all Eyes
Come wet his Grave, and fill the Air with Cryes
In broken, sobbing Notes, let us set forth,
Our Heavy, Heavy Loss, his Golden worth.
The Task's too Great and far out bids my Skill
I fear t'eclipse in shewing my good will;
His Shining Merit, and to wound his Name
Mounted long since, on spreading Wings of Fame.
His Name is Precious and his Memory,
Perfum'd shall last, unto Eternity.
His small Remains lock'd-up, unmade must be
But rise e're long, and Glorious stand, you'l see.
Belov'd of all but slighters of whats rare.
Vertue's a Crime, with such as haters were.
Not without woes, but from base Vices free,
In World Corrupt, untouch'd, untainted he:
Like healthy Body's in Contagious air
Or Fish that fresh, whose livings in salt … are.
His Vertue's rare, in this our Cloudy Night,
As Stars, in azure Sky, they shin'd most bright
Methinks as A'ron, in his Sacred Dress,
So RUSSEL's Soul adorn'd with Grace no less.
His Speech was sweet, & Aspect well might win,
But greater, Richer Beauty, lay within.
His Head with Learning, Prudence, Holy Art,
Firm Faith & Love, Humility his Heart,
Peaceful & Meek, but yet, with Courage Stout,
Engag'd the Fiend, and did him sorely Rout.
From David's Tow'r with Armour bright supply'd
Both Shield & Sword, Helmet & Brestplate wide
Th envenom'd Darts, he bravely did Repel,
With full strength shot, from Fury's fierce of Hell.
To needless strife a Foe, yet ready Stood,
To spend for Christ, his Name his Strength … Blood,
Lightned by CHRIST, a fixed shining Star.
Keeping strait course, gave warmth & guidance rare
A Pregnant Cloud & Fruitful Showers Yielding,
Softening Hearts most Hard; & yet most Cooling
To Conscience Scorched, with Gods dismal wrath,
Producing hope, of what is somewhat worth.
Skill'd was he in his work & Painful too,
Souls to beget & then to make them grow.
Oh! with what skill did he GOD's Word divide;
'Twas first unvail'd & then with warmth apply'd
He dealt to each with care his Portion due,
Dread Woes to some to others Comforts new.
Unto Christ's Lambs he was a tender Nurse
But smartly Scourg'd all such as still grew worse
He Preach'd, he Pray'd, he Watch'd, he Wept, & why?
His Love to Christ, and fears lest Souls would dy.
But we're depriv'd & now too soon we see
His greater Worth, Augments our Misery.
Our swelling Joys are ebb'd & now we stand
Parch'd like the … as the day Africk sand.
Methinks as when the hasty setting Sun,
Makes glad the East it leaves the West Undone,
So, Joy'd were Saints above, when he came in,
But left are we, midst Woes, Darkness & Sin.
Oh Ra…els dead (blest Saint) thus we're undone,
Our town is fallen and our Beauty…s gone.
We … lost our Pastor & our Patron dear,
Our strongest Chariots & our Horsemen rare:
Our Feet will wander & our Souls must starve,
There's none to guide, nor Bread when as we crave,
That can it break, tho' once we had good fare
Of Bread most fat, & Dainty's that were rare
Surpriz'd with Ill, no Watchman to descry,
Gods Angel great & Judgments when they're nigh.
Now Hell will shout, & Sinners will grow bold
Young Seekers faint & Saints themselves wax cold.
The Wall is broke, & now the Cursed Foe
Of Souls, more fierce & sedulous will grow
With doubled force & more his Game anew
Our Leader' dead, unwearied will pursue.
Mourn do our Zions ways, our Lord's-days sad,
Gods sacred House where frequent we have had
Our Souls, refresh'd & fill'd with Joy that's true,
There are we sad & sinking griefs renew.
Thus into darkness, I am bro't, & left,
I'm Naked made, of Treasure rich bereft,
In Ashes roll'd with bitterness I'm fill'd
I'm plung'd i'th' deep, yet tis what he has will'd.
Shew me the Sin that yields such smart as this,
Oh make me grieve for what's in me amiss
Lord pity me, & stanch my Bleeding Wound
Repair my Loss, Oh! make me Whole & Sound.
N. C.
On the same Sorrowful occasion.
NO Gifts of Nature, Art or Grace
Where Death's Subpaena's issu'd out,
Exempteth from the Burying Place;
The so inlay'd, and most Devout
NO'DIAH could have pleaded those,
Had they been of Validity:
But when Death comes with us to close,
Alas, what do they Signify?
True Grace indeed it does Avail,
For those endowed there withal,
That th' Second Death has no Entail
On them; and yet their Bodies fall,
Into the Prison of the Grave,
Until the Goal-delivery thence;
They in that Dormitory have
A sweet Repose, and have no sense
Of all the Worms and Rottenness
Which there Triumph and make a Prey.
Of their Vile Bodies they Possess
Until the Resurrection Day;
When they will off those Vermins shake
And in a new and bright Array,
Their Ascent to the Skies will make,
Where CHRIST his Glory shall Display.
NO'DIAH then will wear a Crown,
At our JESUS Right Hand plac'd,
Will Contribute to the Renown
Where with that Juncture shall be grac'd.
EPITAPH.
NO'DIAH RUSSEL here's Interr'd.
Of him it truly is averr'd,
A Still, yet Powerful Preacher he,
And from the Pulpit heard should be
Sounding this Whisper, that all must
As he, go to a Bed of Dust.
And therefore should an House provide
Where their Dislodged Souls reside,
As his may; Cloath'd with Heav'nly Bliss;
Nor of Eternal Glory miss.
J. J.
AN ACROSTICK.
N ow he's admitted to Coelestial Joys,
O ut of Earths grief's, and World's disturbing noise;
A nd all his Works, him follow shall, tho' he,
D oth rest in's Grave, from those his Labours free;
I n which his body sleeps till th' dreadful Day,
A nd final Trumpets sound, then must obey;
H ave Glorious shining shall his risen Clay.
R Emaining whilst his body's here, i'th' dust
U nto the perfect Spirits, of the Just,
S hall be receiv'd, (with Glory rais'd) his Soul;
S o abides, till Heav'n's Rolled, as a Scroll;
E njoying things, unthought, unheard, unseen,
L ay'd up for those, of GOD, who've Lovers been.
End of the text · Nathaniel Collins, On the Death of Mr Noadiah Russel (1714)