Yet have I seene thee in the pulpit stand, Where wee might take notes, from thy looke, and hand; And from thy speaking action beare away More Sermon, then some teachers use to say. 60 Such was thy carriage, and thy gesture such, As could divide the heart, and conscience touch. Thy motion did confute, and wee might see An errour vanquish'd by delivery. Not like our Sonnes of Zeale, who to reforme 65 Their hearers, fiercely at the Pulpit storme, And beate the cushion into worse estate, Then if they did conclude it reprobate, Who can out pray the glasse, then lay about Till all Predestination be runne out. 70 And from the point such tedious uses draw, Their repetitions would make Gospell, Law. No, In such temper would thy Sermons flow, So well did Doctrine, and thy language show, And had that holy feare, as, hearing thee, 75 The Court would mend, and a good Christian bee. And Ladies though unhansome, out of grace, Would heare thee, in their unbought lookes, and face. More I could write, but let this crowne thine Urne, Wee cannot hope the like, till thou returne. 80 _Upon M^r J. Donne, and his Poems._ Who dares say thou art dead, when he doth see (Unburied yet) this living part of thee? This part that to thy beeing gives fresh flame, And though th'art _Donne_, yet will preserve thy name. Thy flesh (whose channels left their crimsen hew, 5 And whey-like ranne at last in a pale blew) May shew thee mortall, a dead palsie may Seise on't, and quickly turne it into clay; Which like the Indian earth, shall rise refin'd: But this great Spirit thou hast left behinde, 10 This Soule of Verse (in it's first pure estate) Shall live, for all the World to imitate, But not come neer, for in thy Fancies flight Thou dost not stoope unto the vulgar fight, But, hovering highly in the aire of Wit, 15 Hold'st such a pitch, that few can follow it; Admire they may. Each object that the Spring (Or a more piercing influence) doth bring T'adorne Earths face, thou sweetly did'st contrive To beauties elements, and thence derive 20 Unspotted Lillies white; which thou did'st set Hand in hand, with the veine-like Violet, Making them soft, and warme, and by thy power, Could'st give both life, and sense, unto a flower. The Cheries thou hast made to speake, will bee 25 Sweeter unto the taste, then from the tree. And (spight of winter stormes) amidst the snow Thou oft hast made the blushing Rose to grow. The Sea-nimphs, that the watry cavernes keepe, Have sent their Pearles and Rubies from the deepe 30 To deck thy love, and plac'd by thee, they drew More lustre to them, then where first they grew.