For, while fhe liv'd, they flept in Peace by Night,
Secure of Bread, as of returning Light;
And with fuch firm Dependence on the Day,
That Need grew pamper'd, and forgot to pray :
So fure the Dole, fo ready at their Call,
They food prepar'd to see the Manna fall.
Such Multitudes fhe fed, fhe cloth'd, she nurst,
That she, her self, might fear her wanting first.
Of her five Talents, other five she made;
Heav'n, that had largely giv'n, was largely pay'd:
And in few Lives, in wond'rous few, we find
A Fortune better fitted to the Mind.
Nor did her Alms from Oftentation fåll,
Or proud defire of Praife; the Soul gave all:
Unbrib'd it gave; or, if a Bribe appear,
No less than Heav'n; to heap huge Treasures there.
Want pafs'd for Merit at her open Door:
Heav'n faw, he fafely might increase his Poor,
And truft their Sustenance with her fo well,
As not to be at charge of Miracle.
None cou'd be needy, whom she saw, or knew;
All in the Compafs of her Sphere fhe drew:
He, who could touch her Garment, was as fure,
As the first Chriftians of th' Apostles' Cure.
The diftant heard, by Fame, her pious Deeds,
And laid her up for their extremest Needs ;
A future Cordial for a fainting Mind;
For, what was ne'er refus'd, all hop'd to find,
Each in his turn: The Rich might freely come,
As to a Friend; but to the Poor, 'twas Home.
As to fome Holy House th' Afflicted came,
The Hunger-ftarv'd, the Naked and the Lame;
Want and Diseases fled before her Name.
For Zeal like hers her Servants were too flow;
She was the first, where need requir'd, to go;
Her felf the Foundrefs and Attendant too.
Sure she had Guests fometimes to entertain, Guefts in Disguise, of her great Master's Train: Her Lord himself might come, for ought we know; Since in a Servant's Form he liv'd below: Beneath her Roof he might be pleas'd to stay ;
Or fome benighted Angel, in his way,
Might ease his Wings, and, seeing Heav'n appear
In its belt Work of Mercy, think it there:
Where all the Deeds of Charity and Love
Were in as conftant Method, as above,
All carry'd on; all of a Piece with theirs;
As free her Alms, as diligent her Cares;
As loud her Praifes, and as warm her Pray'rs.
Yet was the not profufe; but fear'd to waste,
And wifely manag'd, that the Stock might last;
That all might be fupply'd, and she not grieve,
When Crouds appear'd, she had not to relieve :
Which to prevent, she still increas'd her Store ;
Laid up, and fpar'd, that fhe might give the more.
So Pharaoh, or fome Greater King than he,
Provided for the feventh Neceffity:
Taught from above his Magazines to frame;
That Famine was prevented ere it came.
Thus Heav'n, though All-fufficient, fhews a thrift
In his Oeconomy, and bounds his Gift:
Creating, for our Day, one fingle Light;
And his Reflexion too fupplies the Night:
Perhaps a thousand other Worlds, that lie
Remote from us, and latent in the Sky,
Are lighten'd by his Beams, and kindly nurst;
Of which our earthly Dunghil is the worst.
Now, as all Virtues keep the middle Line,
Yet fomewhat more to one Extreme incline,
Such was her Soul; abhorring Avarice,
Bounteous, but almoft bounteous to a Vice:
Had the giv'n more, it had Profufion been,
And turn'd th' Excefs of Goodness into Sin.
These Virtues rais'd her Fabrick to the Sky;
For that, which is next Heav'n, is Charity.
But, as high Turrets, for their airy steep,
Require Foundations, in Proportion deep;
And lofty Cedars as far upwards fhoot,
As to the neather Heav'ns they drive the Root:
So low did her fecure Foundation lie,
She was not humble, but Humility.
Scarcely fhe knew that fhe was Great, or Fair,
Or Wife, beyond what other Women are,
Or, which is better, knew, but never durft compare.
For to be conscious of what all admire,
And not be vain, advances Virtue high'r.
But still she found, or rather thought the found,
Her own Worth wanting, others to abound;
Afcrib'd above their due to ev'ry one,
Unjuft and scanty to her felf alone.
Such her Devotion was, as might give Rules
Of Speculation to difputing Schools,
And teach us equally the Scales to hold
Betwixt the two Extremes of hot and cold;
That pious Heat may mod'rately prevail,
And we be warm'd, but not be scorch'd with Zeal.
Bufinefs might fhorten, not disturb, her Pray'r;
Heav'n had the best, if not the greater share.
An active Life long Oraisons forbids;
Yet ftill fhe pray'd, for still she pray'd by Deeds.
Her ev'ry Day was Sabbath; only free
From Hours of Pray'r, for Hours of Charity.
Such as the Jews from fervile Toil releaft;
Where Works of Mercy were a part of Reft;
Such as bleft Angels exercise above,
Vary'd with Sacred Hymns and Acts of Love:
Such Sabbaths as that one fhe now enjoys,
E'en that perpetual one, which fhe employs,
(For fuch Viciffitudes in Heav'n there are)
In Praise alternate, and alternate Pray'r.
All this fhe practis'd here; that when she sprung.
Amidst the Choirs, at the first fight she fung:
Sung, and was fung her felf in Angels Lays;
For, praifing her, they did her Maker praise.
All Offices of Heav'n fo well she knew,
Before the came, that nothing there was new:
And fhe was fo familiarly receiv'd,
As one returning, not as one arriv'd.
Mufe, down again precipitate thy Flight:
For how can mortal Eyes fuftain Immortal Light ?
But as the Sun in Water we can bear,
Yet not the Sun, but his Reflexion there,
So let us view her, here, in what she was,
And take her Image in this wat'ry Glass:
Yet look not every Lineament to fee;
Some will be caft in Shades, and fome will be
So lamely drawn, you'll fcarcely know, 'tis fhe.
For where fuch various Virtues we recite,
"Tis like the Milky-Way, all over bright,
But fown fo thick with Stars, 'tis undistinguish'd Light.
Her Virtue, not her Virtues let us call;
For one Heroick comprehends 'em all :
One, as a Constellation is but one,
Though 'tis a Train of Stars, that, rolling on,
Rife in their turn, and in the Zodiack run:
Ever in Motion; now 'tis Faith afcends,
Now Hope, now Charity, that upward tends,
And downwards with diffufive Good defcends.
As in Perfumes compos'd with Art and Cost,
'Tis hard to fay what Scent is uppermoft ;
Nor this part Musk or Civet can we call,
Or Amber, but a rich Result of all;
So fhe was all a Sweet, whose ev'ry Part,
In due proportion mix'd, proclaim'd the Maker's Art.
No fingle Virtue we cou'd most commend,
Whether the Wife, the Mother, or the Friend;
For fhe was all, in that fupreme degree,
That as no one prevail'd, fo all was fhe.
The fev'ral parts lay hidden in the Piece;
Th' Occafion but exerted that, or this.
A Wife as tender, and as true withal,
As the firft Woman was before her Fall :
Made for the Man, of whom she was a part;
Made, to attract his Eyes, and keep his Heart.
A fecond Eve, but by no Crime accurft;
As beauteous, not as brittle as the first.
Had she been first, still Paradife had been,
And Death had found no Entrance by her Sin.
So fhe not only had preferv'd from ill
Her Sex and ours, but liv'd their Pattern still.
Love and Obedience to her Lord the bore ;
She much obey'd him, but she lov'd him more:
Not aw'd to Duty by fuperior Sway,
But taught by his Indulgence to obey.
Thus we love God, as Author of our Good;
So Subjects love juft Kings, or so they shou'd.
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