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The Rev. Deodat Lawson,deducated the following poem to the memory of Capt. Anthony Collamore. Threnodia. The Great Jehovah is the Lord and King, Both in the Heavens and on the Earth and Sea; What things Pleas Him in each to pass doth bring, Nor can He in His Will resisted be. He in his fist retains the Boistrous Winds; And Raging Wters in a Garment binds. Tis but to Loose His Little Finger then, And the most Furious blasts do Issue thence; Enough to terrify the stoutest Men, Nor can they find against it a Defence. Tis but to Slack the binding of the Seas, And they will soon accomplish what He pleas. December last upon the Sixteenth day, Within the Harbour lay at Scituate; Some Loaden Boats to Boston bound away, Which for Fair Wind and Weather there did wait, Among the rest was Captain Collamore, Whose sad disaster,we must now deplore. Some boats with Sailes Expanded led the way, Out of the Harbour;and did fairly glide; Thus one by one stood out into the Bay, With Wind at East North East and Flowing Tide, The Captain in the Race did Hoist up Saile, And hasted after with a steady Gale. He did his best with speed to quit the Shore, And seemed in his way to Prosper well; He luffs up to the Wind and Northward bore, For near an Hour as Spectators tell; That so he might be gaining of the Wind, And to his Port the fairer Passage find. But Dangers great did quickly him surprize, The clouds did gather and obscure the sun; Winds whistled,snow came thick and sea did rise; And he was at a loss which way to run; As did appear to some that were before, Who quickly after, saw the boat no more. With him five persons more embarqued were, Two men, one woman, and two ladds beside; Nor did since that alive on shore appear; But were all drowned in the ocean wide. No more but two are yet to this day found, Which doth the hearts of their relations wound. Whether some hidden Rock with fatal stroke, At once gave final stop unto their course; By which their stem was jammd and boughs were broke, Not able to withstand so great a force, Thus some conceive who saw and viewed the rack, Which quickly to the shore was hurled back. Or whether loaden over deep with wood, The swelling waves did fill her by degrees; If then frozen pump would do no good, They soon became a prey unto the seas; Which violently over them did go, And bore them down into the deeps below. What happened to them we can only guess, Because none of them did survive to tell; Nor can we think what anguish did possess Their souls, when this disaster them befell, We humbly must adore God's providence, Who in the deeps His judgements doth dispense.
One Ephtiam Turner near the fatal place, Was cast upon the shore and next day found; Most sorely battered of his head and face, Who decently was laid into the ground. Relatives of the rest did search the shore For thirteen days, but they could find no more.
But on the fourteenth day one did espie A corps he judgd was Captain Collamore; Yet could not know him to a certainty, By anything, but by the cloaths he wore. His form and visage utterly was lost, Having by waves and rocks been so long tossd.
His friends, his neighbors, and relations all,
Prepare his funeral to solemnize; His souldiers also at the mournful call, Appear with drooping hearts and dripping eyes,
With many tears they laid him in the dust,
To wait the Resurection of the just.
And now although relations of the rest,
Know their own sorrows and distress of mind;
While for the quieting their troubled brest,
They in the creature no relief can find,
Our duty binds us all to sympathize
With such as mourn in their adversities.
But public persons are a public loss,
Because more useful, and more eminent;
They in their places were the greater cross,
And the more sad occasion to lament.
The death of Collamore we must bewaile,
Our glorys going when the faithfull faile.
What offices he fore of any kind,
He did adorn with carriage full of grace;
His modest, humble,condescending mind,
Could freely yield to any in their place.
To all degrees above him and below,
His rightly ordered courtesy did flow.
Unto this province and the Government,
He was a faithful and a constant friend;
In all the troubles which they underwent,
And what he had, was willing to expend;
For the promotion of the publick good,
At any time in what he understood.
In Scituate let each inhabitants
Greatly lament this worthy persons fall;
Both rich and poor his courtesy want,
Who still was ready to oblige them all.
It was to many, by experience known,
He valud others good before his own.
He was the Captain of the war like train,
Love was his banner, love was his defence;
Their chearful service was returnd again,
His acceptation was their recompence.
In that great company command he bore,
Where mustered two hundred men and more.
In judgment found, in life upright with all,
A zealous member of the curch was he;
His studies and endeavours waer not small,
That to Christs kingdom might enlarged be.
A Deacon also faithful to his trust,
To do that onely which was right just.
The North Society in Scituate,
Hath lost a leading man, and loving friend;
Who ready was with person and estate,
On every good occasion help to lend.
His care and conscience plainly did appear,
To settle and maintain Gods worship there.
A faithful constant husband to his wife,
He also tender was and provident;
True peace they cherished, and banished strife,
Enjoying what they had with good content
Gods blessing on their care and industry,
Did yield them comfort and prosperity.
A father carefull of his children too,
Whose love to souls and bodies did extend;
He spared not the best that he could do,
In warning them to mind their latter end.
He did his just commands meekly dispense,
And they did humbly yield obedience.
He was a master full of gentleness,
Whose care it was things honest to provide;
Obliging thus his servants faithfullness,
And he did in their diligence confide.
So that to serve him we may well conclude,
Was rather freedom than a servitude.
But God hath by his sovraign providence,
Of such an usefull man this place bereft;
A deep affecting and afflicting sense,
Is well becoming each one that is left.
We all in his remove a loss sustain,
Which sure God onely can make up again.
Since therefore all things come alike to all,
This comfort in our mourning doth remain;
Though duty binds us to lament his fall,
Yet in our loss, he hath the greater gain.
For dying in the Lord, his labours cease,
And of such upright men the end is Peace.
To old and young this awfull sudden stroke,
Doth testify with loudest vehemence;
God tryes by others death us to provoke,
While it is day to work with dilligence.
Let them both high and low and rich and poor,
Lament the death of Captain Collamore.
(Printed at Boston by Bartholomew Green, 1797)
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