A poem dedicated to the memory of the Reverend and excellent Mr. Urian Oaks,…A poem dedicated to the memory of the Reverend and excellent Mr. Urian Oakes,…

Oaks an Uncomfortable Preacher was I must confess! He made us cry, Alas! In sad Despair! Of what? Of ever seeing A better Preacher while we have a being. ⟨p. 13⟩He! oh! He 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 Oaks the Double Power has Of Boanerges, and of Barnabas: He is a Christian Nestor! Oh! that we Might him among us for three Ages see! But ah! He's gone to Sinus Abrahae. What shall I say? Never did any spit Gall at this Gall-less, Guile-less Dove; nor yet Did any Envy with a cankered breath Blast him: It was I'm sure the general Faith, Let Oaks Be, Say, or Do what e'er he would, If it were OAKS, it must be wise, true, good Except the Sectaries Hammer might a blow Or two, receive from Anabaptists, who Never loved any Man, that wrote a Line Their naught, Church-rending Cause to undermine. Yet after my Encomiastic Ink Is all run out, I must conclude (I think) With a Dicebam, not a Dixi! Yea, Such a course will exceeding proper be: The Jews, whene're they build an House, do leave Some part Imperfect, as a call to grieve For their destroyed Jerusalem! I'll do so! I do it!—

Oakes an Vncomfortable 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. ⟨p. 13⟩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 Abrahae. 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 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 Is all run out, I must conclude (I think) With a Dicebam, not a Dixi! Yea, Such a course will exceeding proper bee: The Iews, whene're they build an House, do leave Some part Imperfect, as a call to grieve For their destroy'd Ierus'lem! I'le do so! I do't!—