How many Angels on a Needle's point

Can stand is thought, perhaps, a needless Point:
Oakes Vertues too I 'me at a loss to tell;

In short, Hee was New-England's SAMUEL,

And had as many gallant Propertyes

As ere an Oak had Leaves or Argus Eyes.

A better Christian would a miracle

Be thought. From most he bore away the Bell.

Oakes an Uncomfortable Preacher was,

I must confess. Hee made us cry, Alass!
In sad Despair. Of what? Of ever seeing
A better Preacher while wee have a beeing.
Hee, oh, Hee was in Doctrine, Life, and all
Angelical and Evangelical;

A Benedict and Boniface to boot,
Commending of the Tree by noble Fruit.
All said, "Our Oakes the Double Power has
Of Boanerges and of Barnabas.
Hee is a Christian Nestor: Oh, that wee
Might him among us for three Ages see!
But, ah, Hee 's gone to Sinus Abrahæ."
What shall I say? Never did any spitt

Gall at this Gall-less, Guile-less Dove; nor yet

Did any Envy with a cankred breath

Blast him. It was, I 'me sure, the gen'ral Faith,

Lett Oakes Bee, Say, or Do what e're he wou'd

If it were OAKES it must be wise, true, good.

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Except the Sect'ryes Hammer might a blow

Or two receive from Anabaptists, who

Never lov'd any Man that wrote a Line

Their naught, Church-rending Cause to undermine.

Yett after my Encomiastick Ink

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Is all run out, I must conclude (I think)

With a Dicebam, not a Dixi. Yea,

Such a course will exceeding proper bee:

The Jews, whene're they build an House, do leave

Some part Imperfect, as a call to grieve

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For their destroy'd Jerus'lem; I'le do so!

I do 't!

And let your Priests for shame deceive no more,

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For Christ doth sure destroy great Babel's Whore,
Which proudly doth on many Waters sit,
And to Christ's glorious Light will not submit,
But strictly will make Laws against the just,
And rob the harmeless to fulfil their lust.
Was ever Pharaoh's eye more wilful blind?
And think you not God's wrath as sure to find?
Would you prescribe how men shall serve the Lord,
And you your selves God's Laws never regard?
O wretched men, would you your selves enthrone
And seek to rule where Christ should rule alone?

ΙΟ

15

Who truly will reward equal and right,
According as each loves or hates his Light.

Dare you revenge your selves upon a man

That fears the Lord and not bow to you can?
Or for reproving you of any ill

Will you your cruelty on them fulfil?

And for meeting together in Christ's Name

Dare you make havock of them for the same?
Let fury cease, for God's just wrath proceeds,
And gives to man according to his deeds.
Doth Corn so plentifully now abound
That upright men may not work in their ground,
And no place else can you to them aford
But prison-holes because they fear the Lord?

330

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Think you the Lord not angry is for this?
Or do you think that ye his stroak shall miss ?
O consider and be astonished

That you so wretchedly are hardened.
Let this be writ for the succeeding age,
To see their folly and abhor their rage;

That they may know the dreadful works of God,
And say at last, "These justly felt his rod."
Blessed are they that in their hearts have room
For Christ to raign, before his anger come;
For dreadful time of wrath is sure at hand.
O faithless ones, when will you understand?
Now let this be imprinted in your mind:
In time repent, whilst you a time yet find;
Fear the Lord God, cease from iniquity,
And love Christs Light; else in your sins you die.
The everlasting Gospel Saints declare;
O all mankind, to hear it now prepare.

1662.

ANONYMOUS

BACONS EPITAPH

MADE BY HIS MAN

Death, why soe crewill? what, no other way
To manifest thy splleene but thus to slay
Our hopes of safety, liberty, our all,
Which through thy tyrany with him must fall
To its late Caoss? Had thy riged force

Bin delt by retale and not thus in gross,
Griefe had bin silent. Now wee must complaine,
Since thou in him hast more then thousand slane,
Whose lives and safetys did so much depend
On him there lif, with him there lives must end.
If 't be a sin to thinke Death brib'd can bee,

Wee must be guilty, say twas bribery
Guided the fatall shaft. Verginias foes,

To whom for secrit crimes just vengance owes
Disarved plagues, dreding their just disart,
Corrupted Death by Parasscellcian art

1662.

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Him to destroy, whose well tride curage such
There heartless harts nor arms nor strength could touch.

Who now must heale those wounds or stop that blood
The Heathen made and drew into a flood?

Who i'st must pleade our Cause? nor Trump nor Drum
Nor Deputations; these alass are dumb,

And Cannot speake. Our Arms (though nere so strong)
Will want the aide of his Commanding tongue,

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Which Conquer'd more than Ceaser: He orethrew
Onely the outward frame; this Could subdue
The ruged workes of nature. Soules repleate

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With dull Child could he 'd annemate with heate

Drawne forth of reasons Lymbick. In a word

Marss and Minerva both in him Concurd

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For arts, for arms, whose pen and sword alike,

As Catos did, may admireation strike

In to his foes, while they confess with all

It was there guilt stil'd him a Criminall.
Onely this differance doth from truth proceed:

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They in the guilt, he in the name, must bleed;
While none shall dare his Obseques to sing

In disarv'd measures, untill time shall bring

Truth, Crown'd with freedom and from danger free,
To sound his praises to posterity.

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Here let him rest: while wee this truth report,

Hee 's gon from hence unto a higher Court

To pleade his Cause, where he by this doth know WHETHER TO CEASER HEE WAS FRIEND or foe. About 1676.

1814.

NICHOLAS NOYES

FROM

A PRÆFATORY POEM

TO THE LITTLE BOOK ENTITULED CHRISTIANUS PER IGNEM

The thoughts are like a swarm of Bees,

That fly both when and where they please;
Those little folks both work and play
About a thousand flow'rs a day,

Yet in their lawless range contrive
To bring in Honey to their Hive:
Who look for method in their march

At Honey making are not arch.
The Sally's of our Authors Soul
So fly about without controul:
Sometimes they clamber Heavens steep,
And sometimes into Hell do peep;
Good meditation both improve,
For both to Godly living move.
Methinks I see him climb the Sky,
Viewing the Flaming Fires on High,
And how the will of God they do,
That we on Earth may do so too;
And then to Hell he doth descend,
To know the Sinners woful end:
He stands aloof, and hears the cry
Of Guilty worms that cannot die
But live in Lakes of flaming Fire
That never! Never! shall Expire;
Then, fir'd with zeal, like Lion bold
Roars out and tells what can't be told,

Warns men to fly from Wrath to come

Before the Judge pronounce their doom.

So snatching brands from Fire and Death,
He may his Fingers burn therewith;

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Yet better so than burn our Souls
By vexing God and pleasing fools.

1702.

1702.

FROM

A CONSOLATORY POEM

DEDICATED UNTO MR. COTTON MATHER, SOON AFTER THE DECEASE OF HIS EXCELLENT AND VERTUOUS WIFE, MRS. ABIGAIL MATHER.

Sir, after you have wip'd the eyes

Of thousands in their miseries,

And oft condoled the heavy Fates

Of those that have surviv'd their mates,

1703

It's come at length to your own turn
To be one half within an Urn.

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