N00941:304
Meat out of the eater. Or, Funeral-discourses occasioned by the death of several relatives.…
Meat out of the eater. Or, Funeral-discourses occasioned by the death of several relatives. Work accommodated unto the service of all that are in any affliction; but very particularly such as are afflicted with the loss of their consorts or children. / By Cotton Mather. ; [Four lines from I Corinthians]
Boston: printed by B. Green & J. Allen for Benjamin Eliot, 1703
Title page typeset from the transcription.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
SIR, After you have wiped the Eyes Of Thousands in their Miseries, And oft condoled the heavy Fates Of those that have Survived their Mates Its come at length to your own Turn, To be One half within an Urn. (Your Christ would have it so be done!) Your other Self's torn off, and Gone. Gone! Said I. Yes, and that's the worst: Your Wife's but gone to Heaven first.
SIR, After you have wip'd the Eyes Of Thousands in their Miseries, And oft condol'd the heavy Fates Of those that have Surviv'd their Mates Its come at length to your own Turn, To be One half within an Urn. (Your Christ would have it so be done!) Your other Self's torn off, and Gone. Gone! Said I. Yes, and that's the worst: Your Wife's but gone to Heaven first.
You do run fast, but she out run, Hath Made her self, not you Undone; Pray, let her Wear what she hath Won! Grudge not her Happiness above; You Live by Faith, and she by Love To Live is Christ; to Die is Gain; Betwixt you both, you have the Twain. ⟨p. 188⟩She was prepared for her Release; And so prepared Departs in P•ace And who would Live, that God makes fit To Die, and then gives a Permit? And' who would choose a World of Fears, Ready to fall about their Ears, That might get up above the Spheres? And leave the Region of dread Thunder To them that Love the World that's under: Where Cankered Breasts with Envy broil, And Smooth Tongues are but dipped in Oil; And Cains Club only doth lie by, For want of Opportunity. Yea, who would Live among Catarrhs, Contagions, Pains, and Strifes, and Wars? That might go up above the Stars; And Live in Health, and Peace,and Bliss, Had in that World; but Wished in this?
You do run fast, but she out run, Hath Made her self, not you Undone; Pray, let her Wear what she hath Won! Grudge not her Happiness above; You Live by Faith, and she by Love To Live is Christ; to Dy is Gain; Betwixt you both, you have the Twain. ⟨p. 188⟩