An Elegy Upon the Death of That Reverend and Faithful Minister of the Gospel Mr. Henry Forty, Late Pastor of a Church of Christ at Abingdon, in the County of Berks, who departed this Life in the 67th. Year of his Age, and was Interred in Southwark, Jan. 27th. 1692\/3.<\/p>\n
Mourn, mourn, O Sion! thou hast Forty lost,
\nWave upon wave, with Tempest thou art tost
\nOur Sorrow’s great, and worser things draw near,
\nSad Symptoms of most dismal Days appear:<\/p><\/blockquote>\nChrist’s blest Ambassadors are call’d away,
\nAnd few these things unto their hearts do lay.
\nMany we lost before, for which we mourn,
\nAnd shall we Forty lose without a Groan?<\/p><\/blockquote>\nShall we not sigh for him who lately fell?
\nOr not deem him a Prince in Israel?
\nSay if you can, what cause gave he to fear,
\nHe was not ev’ry way a Man sincere?\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nHow many years did he his Master serve?
\nAnd never from Christ’s Truth did start or swerve
\nShall Envy then his Name or Glory stain?
\nOr Prejudice wound him to death again?\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nO let his Name! his precious Name still live,
\nAnd to his Ashes no Abuses give.
\nNear Twelve long Years he did in Prison lie,
\nAs Exeter can fully testify,\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nFor witnessing unto God’s holy Truth,
\nWhich he most dearly loved from his Youth;
\nAn Instrument was he in Jesus Hand
\nIn his Converting many in this Land:\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nNay, his own Father and his Mother were
\nEv’n both Converted by him (I do hear)
\nI think without offence, I may declare
\nFew godly Preachers, gone more spotless were;\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nOr with more Clearness did the Gospel Preach,
\nAnd in his Life shone forth what he did teach.
\nHe was no flash, he lik’d no upstart Strains,
\nNew Schemes he loath’d, which now our glory stains:<\/p><\/blockquote>\nBy the Text he left to be insisted on,
\nAnd opened when he was dead and gone;
\nYou may perceive on what Foundation he
\nDid build his Hope of bless’d Felicity.<\/p><\/blockquote>\nAltho’ my house is not ev’n so with God,
\nMy Heart is dead, and I under the Rod:
\nTho’ Grace in me do’s greatly seem to fade,
\nAnd many Deaths and Sorrows me invade;\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nText<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Tho’ friends seem strange, and wants do theaten me,
\nAnd Pain and Anguish much increased be;
\nAltho’ I faint for the sweet water Streams,
\nAnd feel not those Soul-warming Sun-like Gleams,<\/p><\/blockquote>\nTho’ in my Father’s House I can’t appear,
\nTo have Communion my poor Soul to cheer
\nAt the bless’d Table of my dearest Lord,
\nWhich formerly did so much Strength afford;<\/p><\/blockquote>\nTho’ I sit all-alone and weep each day,
\nAnd nights seem grievous rest b’ing took away,
\nAltho’ my Heart is alost broke with Grief,
\nSin so abounds, and Sion wants Relief;\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nHer Sorrows still abide on ev’ry hand,
\nHer Sons divided are, so is the Land;
\nSad Wars without, and Wars also within
\nSuch Wars ‘mongst Saints has scarcely ever been.<\/p><\/blockquote>\nBoth Earth and Heav’n too, now shaken be
\nPlain signs of some dismal Catastrophe:
\nAltho’ my Faith is small and Love is cold,
\nAnd am distressed by what I behold;\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nAnd tho’ the Pillars of my house do shake,
\nMy Eyes grow dim, and Hands grow very weak,
\nAnd tho’ in my own self I nothing am,
\nAnd for my Sins God might me justly damn:<\/p><\/blockquote>\nYet he a Covenant hath made with me,
\nWhich is Eternal, cannot broken be;
\nFor it is order’d well in ev’ry thing,
\nAnd ’tis from hence my Hope and Joy do’s spring.<\/p><\/blockquote>\nNay, this is all my Hope, and my Desire,
\n‘Tis this that raises up my Soul yet higher.
\nAnd when on this I do contemplate
\nI neither matter Mens nor Devils Hate:\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nThis Covenant affords me such Relief
\nIt strengthens me, and kills my unbelief:
\nI hereby see, and know God is my God,
\nAnd tho’ I for my sins do bear his Rod;<\/p><\/blockquote>\nYet he his Loving-kindness won’t remove,
\nAltho’ he doth me fatherly reprove.
\nAfter this sort, methinks I heard him speak,
\nWhilst he was here, and lay so sick and weak;<\/p><\/blockquote>\nBut now he’s gone to that sweet place of Joy,
\nWhere Sin nor Sorrow shall him more annoy:
\nHe fell asleep in Jesus, and shall lie
\nIn his sweet Arms unto Eternity.\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nThis Covenant hath set upon his Head
\nThat glorious Crown his Saviour merited;
\nA Morning without Clouds his Soul do’s see,
\nWhich so shall last unto Eternity.\u2028<\/p><\/blockquote>\nLike to the Sun’s sweet shining after Rain,
\nOr, like a Captive Prince turn’d home again
\nThat has in Bondage been for many year
\nAnd when Christ comes, his Glory will appear.<\/p><\/blockquote>\nWhich now approaches and draws very near.
\nHis Body therefore tho’ Intomb’d in Earth,
\nShall quickly rise and gloriously shine forth.
\nAwake ye Virgins then, and sleep no more.<\/p><\/blockquote>\nPrepare with speed, the Bridegroom’s at the door;
\nO watch! look out! ye little think or know,
\nWhat things the mighty God’s about to do.<\/p><\/blockquote>\nEPITAPH<\/strong><\/p>\n
Here Forty lies a little while asleep,
\n‘Twill not be long before he shall awake;
\nForbear therefore his Friends and do not weep
\nFor of great Glory does his Soul partake.
\nHe’s gone before, see you as ready be
\nFor Joy above, and bless’d Felicity.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n