278 
[p. 589] 
[p. 590} 
|p. 594] 
E. B. Reed, 
In midst of troubles soe lett vs demeane 
As Countinances be pleasant Soules serene 
Remember t'is from high Aflictions fall 
From Prouidence deuine that gouern’s all 
Who when he please in turning of an eye 
Turn’s Wrath to Mercy Sorrows into Joy 
T’is he who made the firtile Earth produce 
Her anual fruit most meet for humaine vse 
He both the Rose & Violets did Cloth 
Tis he beauty & th’oders gaue to both 
‘Twas his Almighty power that did make fall 
Att Israels seige the Jereconian Wall 
That on’s Enimyes ruing he might raise 
Trophy on Trophy to inrich his Prayse 
Shal we then those his wonders now less prize 
Or thinke his Power abat’s, or hee less wise 
No, hee’s as able still Nor shall His want 
Victory on Standards Glory on ther front 
Life & Death Compared together 
Such vulgar thoughts the World doe fill 
To thinke Life good Death only ill 
Then life ill lived noe euell’s worse 
Death (dieing well) remoues the Curse 
And tis for certaine truth men tell 
He ne’re dies ill that liveth well 
Ill liues doe but ther Ills increase 
But dieng well makes Euells Cease 
Badd men haite death but not soe much 
That itt is Ill, as They are such 
Moral Men teache vs in their bookes 
That we should dispise death’s grime lookes 
T’is Comon sence w* doth inspire 
Ther feares of thatt Good men desire 
Nor Can we truly death define 
By makinge odious what’s sublime 
Consider’t in th’ effects & soe itt will 
Plead much for death be’t Good or Ill 
Say itt be Ill yett here’s the Good 
To greater Ills it giues a period 
In life what one good thinge is ther 
