Broadside entitled 'An Elegy'

Transcription

Ps. I16. I5.      An Elegy upon the much to be lamented Death

Ps    37. 37       of the Reverand Mr.   John Wilson,   Mini-

Isa. 57. I. 2.    ster of the Gospel at North Lieth, who de-

Rev. 14. 13.    parted this Life the 1 st. of September 1724

Till we do find Black Cloth wears out the first,
And Fruits that are the choicest keep the worst
Scarce have we dried our Eyes for Loss of One,
But in comes Tidings that another's gone.
Now justly tremble, Scotland, stand agast,
To see thy Glorious Lamps go out so fast-
Art thou gone too, (thou great and valiant Mind.)
And must such Snakes as I be left behind.
If thus our Horsemen and Commanders die,
What can the Infantry do then, but flie ?
Oh, pious Wilson !    Tell us why wouldst thou go ?
Unless thou couldst have left thy Parts below.
Who had thy Memory, thy Brain, thy Heart ?
Whom didst thou leave thy Tongue,(for ev'ry part
Of thee can make a Man,) of powerful Mind,
Reclaiming wandering Sheep we daily find.
Thou was thy Master's Trump for disputing at Length ;
Where hast thou left thy Presbyterian Strength.
When Bomie dy'd, the Orator of the Place,
Thou gav'it new Life in his succeeding Race.
Thy happy Soul is now above the Storm,
Fixt on your Rock, with Saints of purest Form ;
For if our saint Devotions Prayers be,
What can we call his less than Extasie?
If with the Almighty he prevailed so,
Wonder not that he Wonders wrought below :
The Son of Consolation and of Thunder,
Met both in him, in others are assunder.
He was (like Luke) Phisician of both Kinds,
Wrought Cures upon Mens Bodies, and their Minds.
Lust, burning Fever, Anger's Calenture,
The Cholick in the Conscience he could cure.
Set the Souls broken Bones, by holy Art,
He hath dissolv'd the Stone in many a Heart,
Harder than that he dyed of.    O come in,
Ye Multitudes whom he hath heal'd of Sin,
And thereby made his Debters, pay him now
Some of those Tears, which he laid out for you.
Where's the rich Fancy (Man) to whom ( beneath)
Did'st thou thy lofty and high Stream bequeath;
Tell us, for thy own Sake ; for none but he
That hath thy Wit, can write thy Elegie.
Till he be found, let this suffice, which I
Leave on thy Stone: Here lies the Ministry.
Fama manet terris, spiritus astra colit.
EPITAPH.

Here Meekness lies intert'd with Wisdom's Light,
Zeal with Charity, a Pastor shining bright ;

A Pastor good, whose Faith and Works did even,
(Like pious Elijah) mount him up to Heaven
Fugit hora. vive memor lethi

Composed by William GIBSON Licented School master.

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