N00941:305
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.
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⟩She was prepar'd for her Release; And so prepar'd Departs in P•ace And who would Live, that God makes fitt To Dy, and then gives a Permitt? 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 Canker'd Breasts with Envy broyle, And Smooth Tongues are but dipt in Oyle; And Cains Club only doth ly by, For want of Opportunity. Yea, who would Live among Catarrhes, 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 Wish'd in this?
Disturb not then her precious Dust, With Threnodies that are unjust. Let not crossed Nature now repine; Sir, Grace hath taught you to resign To Christ, what Nature called, Mine! To call for Mourners I came not; There are too many on the Sport, Already all the Neighbourhood Have Wept as much as Weepings good, Nor to Embalm her Memory; She did That, ere she came to die; Tis done to long Eternity!