_Poor vaunting Earth, gloss’d with uncertain Pride,_ _That liv’d in Pomp, yet worse than others dy’d:_ _Who shall blow forth a Trumpet to thy praise?_ _Or call thy sable Actions shining Rayes?_ _Such Lights as those blaze forth the vertued dead,_ _And make them live, though they are buried._ _Thou’st gone, and to thy memory let be said,_ _There lies that Oliver which of old betray’d_ _His King and Master, and after did assume,_ _With swelling Pride, to govern in his room._ _Here I’le rest satisfied, Scriptures expound to me,_ _Tophet was made for such Supremacy._ {88} The death of this great Rebel (I hope) will prove an _Omen_ to presage destruction on the rest. The Worlds in a heap of troubles and confusion, and while they are in the midst of their changes and amazes, the best way to give them the bag, is to go out of the World and leave them. I am now bound for _Mary-Land_, and I am told that’s a New World, but if it prove no better than this, I shall not get much by my change; but before I’le revoke my Resolution, I am resolv’d to put it to adventure, for I think it can hardly be worse then this is: Thus committing you into the hands of that God that made you, I rest _Your Obedient Son_, G. A. From aboard a Ship at _Gravesend_, _Sept._ 7th, _Anno_ _To my Brother._ I leave you very near in the same condition as I am in my self, only here lies the difference, you were bound at Joyners Hall in _London_ Apprentice-wise, and I conditionally at Navigators Hall, that now rides at an Anchor at _Gravesend_; I hope you will allow me to live in the largest Mayordom, by reason I am the eldest: None but the main Continent of _America_ will serve me for a Corporation to inhabit {89} in now, though I am affraid for all that, that the reins of my Liberty will be something shorter then yours will be in _London_: But as to that, what Destiny has ordered I am resolved with an adventerous Resolution to subscribe to, and with a contented imbracement enjoy it. I would fain have seen you once more in this Old World, before I go into the New, I know you have a chain about your Leg, as well as I have a clog about my Neck: If you can’t come, send a line or two, if not, wish me well at least: I have one thing to charge home upon you, and I hope you will take my counsel, That you have alwayes an obedient Respect and Reverence to your aged Parents, that while they live they may have comfort of you, and when that God shall sound a retreat to their lives, that there they may with their gray hairs in joy go down to their Graves. Thus concluding, wishing you a comfortable Servitude, a prosperous Life, and the assurance of a happy departure in the immutable love of him that made you, Vale. Your Brother, G. A. From _Gravesend_, Sept. 7. _Anno_ {90} _To my much Honored Friend_ Mr. T. B. _at his House_.