A POEM On the DEATH of the Pious and Vertuous Gentlewoman Mrs. MARY BROWN, Wife of BENJAMIN BROWN Esq. Who…

No Wonder, Sir, if You be Sorely griev'd, Husband & Father, both at once Bereav'd! Bereav'd of her, should in your Bosome be! And of what should be Dandled on your Knee! Ship, Cargoe, Root & Branch; both Fruit & Tree All Swallow'd up in one sad Ruine be! And the Sole Owner Mourning left alone, But one of Three, when One, is next to none! Sense saith, Your Case is desperately sad: Faith saith, The Tempest was not half so bad. The Ship & Cargoe's Sav'd, The fruitful Tree, Both Root & Branch, to Heaven Transplanted be. The Dam & Lamb were in one COVENANT: Both had that Shepherd would not let them want. When the blest Virgin had our Lord Conceiv'd, A Mother and her Child in Him believ'd, Such Correspondence Then was held between Two Little Infants that no Eye had seen, As Joy'd Two Mothers, Made an Unborn Boy Within his Mothers Womb to Leap for Joy. Sure Job had never Cursed his Birth Day Had not there been to Heaven an other Way. Nor did Hilkiah's Son wish to have dy'd, Too Soon for to be Sav'd, and Sanctify'd. The Mother and her Child could not be Sever'd, Yet Neither of them Dyed Undeliver'd: Whose Souls find Heaven, & Bodies find a Grave, Christians Believe a good deliverance have. Her Groaning's Over, and She hath assign'd Her Groans & Moan's, to those, She left behind. Although her Lying Inn will not be done Until the Glorious Resurrection. Then Eve's Curse will be off, and then no doubt, Such Mothers will bring forth, and not Cry Out. Their Babes Unmidwiv'd will be (past Objection) Children of God, and of the Resurrection. And this, I hope, will Satisfaction give The Mother and the Child will Then Both Live.

SIR, Take it for a Consolation Cup, It will be Then a Joyful Sitting up.

O Blessed Day! when Joy shall be Increas'd, Ten Thousand Times above the Gossip-Feast. Mean while the Husband doth bewail his Crown, And we, an Ornament of Church and Town. One of the best of Women, Wives, and Friends, One of the best of Saints, her Life thus Ends. When Shrieking Mothers fly with Child in Arms, It is to hide Them from Approaching Harms. I dread the Omen much, when such as She, Foresee what They had Rather Dye then See.