Mary Magdalens love to Christ. Opened in a sermon preached at the funeral of Mistris Elizabeth Thomason. April. 11. 1659. / By Edw. Reynolds D.D.

To the Worthy Faster of a very virtuous Virgin deceased: who ••••si••••l an ••••seu•••• Pe••son to make an Elegie &c.

S^• Be advis'd; She's not your Daughter now, But a crown'd Saint in Heavens great Court & You Must take heed what you offer to her Shrine You'l be prophane if that be not Divine. Sternold who kill'd the Psalmes and David too In Meeter and good meaning did not doe More violence to Heaven, then you to her, If whilst you think't a kindness yo^u shall blurr Her honour with my Inke: 'tis a disgrace To set black spotts upon a Glorious Face. Disdaine will burst her Coffin sure to have Such dirty Feet as mine stand on her Grave. Besides 'tis niggardly to weep in Verse, Tears w.^thout measure best become her Hearse. The talking Brook is shallow still we see Great Sorrows like deep Rivers silent bee. Were I Appollo's Priest indeed, and fitt To send a Poem up in flames of Witt, Yet I'm but one; S^r, to her Alter's due Whole Hecatombs of Verse & Poets too.

Goe search S^t Pauls Church Yard imploy choice eyes To scan all Epitaphs, and Elegies. All the rich Fancies, Sacred Raptures, all The pearly drops which ever yet did fall On spotlesse Virgins Toombs; then make your Claime Print and devote them to your Daughters Name Those vast Hyperbolces, Those lofty Notes Which crack't y^e. Muses voices, rent their throats, Offended scrup'lous Readers, made them thinke Poetry only Strong Lines and strong Drinke Allayed by her Merit, soone will be Reduct to sober truth and modesty. But stay, this councill is but Simple Stuffe (Englands Divine) Reynolds hath done enough: His Sermon is her Monument in Print And hath more honour then all Poems in't. That doth not only speake her Saint, but more Can make him one too, who but reads it ore. Reynolds records her Saint, & You may hope That's more than Cannonizing by a Pope.

R. W.