On an Innkeeper in Tarbolton

Here lies magnanimous Humility,
Majesty, Meekness; Christian Apathy
On soft Affections: Liberty in thrall;
A Noble Spirit, Servant unto all.
Learnings great Master-piece; who yet would sit
As a Disciple at his Schollars feet.
A simple Serpent, or Serpentine Dove,
Made up of Wisdome, Innocence, and Love.
Neatness Embroider'd with it self alone;
And Civils Canonized in a Gown:
Embracing old and young, and low and high;
Ethicks imbodyed in Divinity:
Ambitious to be lowest, and to raise
His Brethrens Honour on his own Decayes.
Thus doth the Sun retire into his bed,
That being gone, the Stars may shew their head.
Could wound at Argument without Division;
Cut to the quick, and yet make no Incision;
Ready to Sacrifice Domestick Notions
To Churches Peace, and Ministers Devotions.
Himself indeed (and singular in that)
Whom all admired, he admired not.
Liv'd like an Angel of a Mortal Birth,
Convers'd in Heaven while he was on Earth:
Though not (as Moses ) radiant with Light,
Whose Glory dazell'd the beholders sight;
Yet so divinely beautifi'd, youl'd count
He had been born and bred upon the Mount.
A living breathing Bible: Tables where
Both Covenants at large engraven were;
Gospel and Law in's Heart had each its Colume
His Head an Index to the Sacred Volume.
His very Name a Title Page; and next,
His Life a Commentary on the Text.
O what a Monument of glorious worth,
When in a New Edition he comes forth
Without Errata's , may we think hee'll be,
In Leaves and Covers of Eternitie!
A man of Might at Heavenly Eloquence,
To fix the Ear, and charm the Conscience,
As if Apollos were reviv'd in him,
Or he had learned of a Seraphim .
Spake many Tongues in one: one Voice and Sense
Wrought Joy and Sorrow, Fear and Confidence.
Rocks rent before him, Blinde receiv'd their sight,
Souls levell'd to the dunghil, stood upright.
Infernal Furies burst with rage to see
Their Pris'ners captiv'd into Libertie.
A Star that in our Eastern England rose ,
Thence hurry'd by the Blast of stupid foes,
Whose foggy Darkness, and benummed Senses,
Brook'd not his daz'ling fervent Influences.
Thus did he move on Earth from East to West;
There he went down, and up to Heaven for Rest.
Nor from himself, whilst living doth he vary,
His death hath made him an Ubiquitary:
Where is his Sepulchre is hard to tell,
Who in a thousand Sepulchres doth dwell;
(Their Hearts , I mean, whom he hath left behind,)
In them his Sacred Relique's now Enshrin'd.
But let his Mourning Flock be comforted,
Though Moses be, yet Joshua is not dead:
I mean Renowned NORTON; worthy hee
Successor to our MOSES is to bee,
O happy Israel in AMERICA ,
In such a MOSES such a JOSHUA .
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