A Funeral Elegy
Upon the much to be Lamented Death and most
Deplorable Expiration of the Pious, Learned, Ingenious,
And Eminently Usefull Servant of God
Mr John Foster
Who Expired and Breathed out his Soul quietly
Into the Arms of His Blessed Redeemer
At Dorchester, Sept. 9th Anno Dom. 1681
Aetatis Anno 33
Here lye the relict Fragments, which were took
Out of Consumtion's teeth, by Death the Cook
Voracious Apetite dost thus devour
Scarce ought hast left for worms t' live on an Hour
But Skin & Bones no bones thou mak'st of that
It is thy common trade t' eat all the fat.
Here lyes that earthly House, where once did dwell
That Soul that Scarce [ha]th left its Parallel
For Sollid Judgment Piety & Parts
And peerless Skill in all the practick Arts
Which as the glittering Spheres, it passed by
Methinks, I Saw it glance at Mercury;
Ascended now: 'bov time & Tides 't abides,
Which Sometimes told the world, of Times & Tides.
Next to the' Third Heavens the Stars were his delight,
Where's Contemplation dwelt both day & night,
Soaring unceartainly but now at Shoar,
Whether Sol moves or Stands He doubts no more.
He that despis'd the things the world admired,
As having Skill in rare things acquired,
The heav'ns Interpreter doth disappear;
The Starre's translated to his proper Sphere.
What e're the world may think did Cause his death
Consumpton 'twas not Cupd, Stopt his breath.
The Heav'ns which God's glory doe discover,
Have lost their constant Friend & instant Lover
Like Atlas, he help't bear up that rare Art
Astronomy; & always took his part:
Most happy Soul who didst not there Sit down
But didst make after an eternal Crown
Sage Archimede! Second Bezaleell
Oh how didst thou in Curious works excell!
Thine Art & Skill deserve to See the Press,
And be Composed in a Printers dress.
Thy Name is worthy for to be enroll'd
In Printed Letters of the choicest Gold
Thy Death to five foretold Eclipses Sad,
A great one, unforetold doth Superad,
Successive to that Strange Aethereal Blaze,
Wheron thou didst so oft astonish'd gaze;
Which daily gives the world Such fatal blows:
Still whats to come we dread; God only knows.
Thy Body which no activeness did lack
Now's laid aside like an old Almanack
But for the present only's out of date;
Twil have at length a far more active State.
Yea, though with dust thy body Soiled be,
Yet at the Resurrection we Shall See
A fair Edition & of matchless worth,
Free from Errata, new in Heav'n Set forth:
Tis but a word from God the great Creatour,
It Shall be Done when he Saith IMPRIMATUR.
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Created: August 17, 2003 Modified: August 17, 2003