Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	part_n	scripture_n	write_v	3,277	5	5.9598	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A01890	Babels balm: or The honey-combe of Romes religion With a neate draining and straining-out of the rammish honey thereof. Sung in tenne most elegant elegies in Latine, by that most worthy Christian satyrist, Master George Good-vvinne. And translated into tenne English satyres, by the Muses most vnworthy Eccho, Iohn Vicars.; Melissa religionis pontificiae. English	Goodwin, George, fl. 1607-1620.; Vicars, John, 1579 or 80-1652.	1624 (1624)	STC 12030; ESTC S103245	56,801	130

Confounder killing thy Lambes good To Thee O Christ doth sacrifice thy Blood A painted Lamb 's ador'd deuour'd aliue Thus thus doth Romes Religion rarely thriue Him I will not Religious Holy stile But Common Whore or Couchant Wolfe most vile Gods Church with floods of blood orewhelmed all We may the Pope Saints bloody Butcher call This Field of blood Acheldamae thus showne Makes thee proud Priest a Dog-Wolfe Bitch-Wolfe knowne How many Tesles doe detest with Scath Romes sacrilegious ebbing flowing Faith Which Hee 'le now firme anon infringe and bee A Synon sly not Simon-Peter free For to a Counsell One once call'd secur'd The Guest was slaine the Hoste his Faith abiur'd And whereas Priests Gods Flocks bright Star should be The raging Dog-starre this Vice-Christ we see Christs feeble Flocke the Popes Salue hurts not heales Hee with tart Tortures not milde Med'cines deales I surely thinke that Turkes of All Popes times Ne're wrought 'gainst Christ so many bloody Crimes O what a Man of Blood art Thou to th' Bride By whom Hir offspring Dye in Fire are fryde Popes furious frownes make many vndergoe Deaths Dart Warres Smart Waues finall fatall Woe The Pope and Pluto witnes euery Lowne Thus differ hee hath Hornes Popes triple Crowne All els concurre So well perform'd thou seest All Satans Workes by this Plutonick Priest A time will come when Hee Christs sacred Traine And liuing Members dearely would re-gaine And yet Saints slaughter will not Him suffice But ore Dead Corps dig'd vp Hee 'l tyrannize Nor rests his Fury with Dead bodies fed But this fierce Fiend their Ghosts hath tortured Rachel Thy Church sweete Sauiour craues thy aide Lamenting sore that Shee 's so childlesse made Hir Saints wide Wounds from Rome receiu'd she showes And how with Flames she shines with Blo●d ore-flowes Shee now doth Roses with much ruth bring out Who in sweete peace once made white Lillies sprout In midst of Flames than Flames themselues more bright Thy Martyrs were all clad with fiery Light Nor did her soile want raine to spring and bud Too fertile 't was ore flowne with showres of Blood Popes Founders and Repayrers Diuels were With props of Blood His Throne to build and reare O Christ whilest Thy Saints after Death feard Death They feared not in Life to lose their breath In England heere a Queene being Papists pride By fire how many holy Martyrs dyd'e Nor did Queene Marie of meere Vulgars builde Those Godlesse Flames but burn'd fiue Bishops milde Nay more a Child from Mothers Wombe which brast VVas into th' Fire by Romish Fiends re-cast Lo thus with slaughtered Saints Romes shambles shines No better brau'rie Romes renowne refines Seruant of Seruant● Fellow seruants slayes And so himselfe a Seruant base betrayes This Latian Dragon with Gods Saints makes warre In Blood his foule Face laues than Warres worse farre In one of these fierce Monsters shortest raigne Records report an hundred thousand slaine Nocent the third I take in from the Nocent So many thousands in one Slaughter spent O thou in truth Saints ruth All red oft read VVith Blood of many Martyrs Martyred Slaine corps doe con-corrupt my life alas That Hee Saints Homicide so long doth passe And when O Christ thy Seruants slaine I see Ore-flowing Flouds mine eyes I wish to bee In that Parisian Shambles knowne too well How many guiltlesse Lambes in one weeke fell VVhilst Paris then more blood did drinke than Wine That Towne that time a Tempest was Sanguine Forewarn'd learne wisedome doe not Christ despise VVhom soone Romes Shambles brings to Butcheries Alas Hee 's not Sheeps Peeder but Confounder Black-cankered Conscience Ouicide Sheepe-wounder Hee which growes great by sacred Saints perdition Hastens to Hell with guilty Expedition Thine plagues O Christ by Sufferance subiugate For what they cannot shun they tolerate To these Lifes want is Life their Death no Death Conquest their Crosse to liue to lose their breath Goodnes their Gold the World their Pot Griefe Flame Their Flesh the Reed their Hammer God to frame Blood founded first Christs Church by blood it grew Blood showres It cheeres by Blood t is of red hiew With Blood Vice-Christ Christs Foldes doth filthifie See Men of God See Popish Piety Of Romes false doctrines many Scraps remaine Which my close Hedge is too close to containe Index Expurgatorius Bookes great Bane A Worke well knowne dishonest crafty vaine Robs or rubs out much antique learned Treasure Pils or pals out much at the Popes dis-Pleasure His Censure suffocates Mens Births their Bookes Takes out plaine Truths puts in vile spurious Crookes O horrid hatefull Slaught'r-House foule nefarious To Godly Bookes a plague a torture various The Fathers Strayes not Sonnes then Papists Name Though Fathers theirs All theirs still theirs they claime Their Postils Packets are of Trumperies Hee which in them can find no Wit is wise 'T is plaine All Papists are Traditionists Who terme and trouble vs for Scripturists Which be or what or how many Traditions Or where they are scapes yet Romes Inquisitions Yet These must be obseru'd religiously And be embrac'd with Scriptures dignity What-e're hath part of neither Word nor Writ With Word and Writ in equall State must sit Thus Clementines and Asinines poore packs Wherewith the Pope his Library well thwacks And God knowes what trim toyes and Decretals Must be Gods sacred Scriptures Corriuals Thus that blest Booke must haue no blessed vse More Wealth more worke from others Popes produce Reliques more than Religion they respect And more than Churches Chimnies they affect His Dei's made of Waxe mo●● pure Hee makes the Worlds great Wens and Sores to cure And hee which will not blest Saluation misse Must straitway striue the Popes blest Foote to kisse Water with Wine after Romes custome mixt Assures poore Soules to be with Christ fast fixt The Thorney Crowne O Christ which wrought thy woe A Golden Crowne on a bald-pate doth show A Cocke on Pinnacles of Temples plac't Warnes All with Peter to Repentance haste Waxe-Tapers burnt to grace the Noone-daies light The Gentiles promis'd-Light declare most right But sure those Lights doe plainely intimate The Popes Soules-darknesse and his friends retraite It also shewes that Papists hate Day-light And most like Owles see best in darkest Night Much Faith boiles in his braine his Heart holds none And whilst he brags of Good his Work 's not showne A Pater Noster said puts sinnes away If thou it say resay thrice oft a day These taste to me as Gall to Christ did taste What-ere I read taste trust proue All proues waste What vertue by Christ crucified growes The Mimick-Masse Popes Cleopatra showes Faire Phillis Philomel Calliope Venus Melissa and Melpomene This Romes Religion her Palladium hath This the Idea of the Romish Faith Heere Babels Bawde ruffles in silke and gold In shining Syndon sheltring thefts most bold And with cleane clothes hir damned Dens doth hide That Shee of none a rauening Wolfe be spide Her Face to

sense the Starres And no Eclipse thy shining Iubar barres All the trim treasures of Celestiall skill The sacred Cabinet of thy brest fill The gates of hell against thee haue no might Faith doth for Thee at sword and buckler fight Yea thou Christs very thoughts dost throughly know And in thy mouth Gods Sp●rit springs to and fro Why should not then the Worlds loud exclamation Sound out to thee Hosanna their Saluation Th' art righteousnesse and Peace's Prince of fame Melchisedech King Salem chang'd in name Since gracelesse Rome with her vngrounded faith Other blest names of Christ to thee giuen hath Christ is the first thou the Worlds second light So golden Glosses t 'vs grosse-Asses write In Christ her Pheere the Church his Deere is blest And thou Vice-Christ her Brooker keepst her best Christ is that Royall-Head which quickens all And thou must be that Head Subalternall The world which Christ protects is thine owne charge Let others take his part thine 's the world large Christ and Thou but one Consistorie haue Thus vnder him thy rule may realmes be-slaue Thou Cherubins and Seraphins mak'st tremble Yea Deuils to doe thy will thou'lt soone assemble Mountaines to Mole-hils melt vailes cleaue in sunder Seas are drawne dry if with thy Voice Thou thunder The firey Charret of Elias straight Shall whurrey thee through Clouds to Heau'n Gate In spight of Swords and Shields great King of Kings Earth's Thrones to thy Throne couple with strong strings Thy Royalties with Christs so close agree That as thou iugglest we no difference see Yet to be plaine great difference is in th' one But being alike your Powers the like are knowne Thou mai'st infringe Christ must the Law fulfill Laws Debt●r Hee Thou Dispensator still What need we Words when Deeds more plainely speake That at thy pleasure thou Gods Laws canst breake By Power of Pope-ship and the Holy Chaire Thou All canst marre All things as iust dost dare If ought remaine to heate it I am prest That so thy Clients tired eares may rest Hence-forth I le thee a Fisher of Men make Ergo the Pope in 's net may Kingdomes take All things are iudg'd by the Spirituall man Ergo the Pope doth all well iudge and scan All things are iudg'd by the Spirituall man Ergo iudge Popes pneumaticke-Lords none can Heere are two Swords Ergo they both are Thine And euery Kingdome shall to thee incline Perish shall euery Land not seruing Thee Ergo all must Popes Tributares bee Perish shall euery Land not seruing thee Ergo to th' Pope all Lands must vassals bee Vnder his feet are all things put Ergo All power this Hyperbolike Pope's below No man can serue two Masters Ergo All Must serue the Pope and from their Princes ●●ll No Seruant is aboue his Master knowne Ergo to blame the Pope t is fit for none Slaues than their Lords Cynthia than Sol is lesse Ergo ought Kings to Popes their necks depresse Many such Lies Arch-Sophister thy Wit Relates and wrests Gods holy Word to it And were not Thine concordant to the same 'T were none of Thine none of it from thee came Thy Witnesse call'd Thou l't tortures adde thereto Their right to wrong their contrary to doe Thus Thou a Doctors Charge Christs Office thus Thou vnder-go'st and smack'st Gods deepe sense thus Distastefull is thy Taste th' art Woodden Wise Whil'st thou dost broach thy braines fond fantasies Thou Chimicall Expounder Protean Senses Giu'st to Gods Word with an old Foxe pretences Yet no Sence Wrested Thou the Text dost follow For thou art Scriptures Phoebu● wise Apollo Art thou the Bibles Hermes Touch-stone pure Hee that denies it does most wisely sure OF THE DAMNABLE DOCTRINE IN THE DECEIVEABLE SYNAGOGVE OF SATAN AT ROME THE FOVRTH SATYRE The ARGVMENT Coyned re-coyned Faith at Rome oft hatches A great Encrease botcht vp with many patches WIth what thicke mists oh Antichrist prophane What Stygian Chaos seekst thou Truth to staine Of Liuing Streames poys'ning the sound sweet drafts Digging vp Muddy-Pooles of Lyes and Crafts On paine of Heau'ns fierce furie charging All Wrong-wrested Texts to hold Authenticall Thou scorn'st the Hebrew Conduit-Heads As though From thy Sluce Slowe farre fairer Floods did flow With Orthodox Apocryphall false Writs VVith Doubtlesse Truth Fryers Forgeries Rome fits Grammaticke Mystick Morall Sphynx-like senses Gods Booke must haue to saue the Popes pretences But since such various Sense Gods Booke containes I wonder how least Sence in It remaines Thus Antichrist Christs Word most heau'nly Treasure Doth explicate and applicate at 's pleasure O proud prompt Tyrant of Non-sense or Sense Bold Bibliocide Autographs oft offence Great Talmudists Rare Popish Alchymist Whose becke whose bleat thy Sheepe lead as thou list O how Romes learned Land-markes on her Glosses The Popes great pleasure or confirmes or crosses Christs Scriptures you with Drosse for Doctrine varnish That they thus wrong'd your Latian-God may garnish For this Metropolite of Sophisters Hath of Religion Asse-like Enginers And Readers Iester iustly sure is Hee Whiles thus for profit hee 'le God 's Prophet bee Faiths Farmer Framer formes opinions new And would with His Faiths-Bond bind Christians true Foule fac't the Worlds Apostate-Generall T'himselfe assumes Faiths holy Tenents all VVhen once his Annuall pompous Fasts begin VVho-'ere eats Flesh commits a deadly sinne Fish they may eate but to eate Flesh 't is hated Because the Earth not Sea was execrated Great ghostly Grand-Sire Coryphe of Doctors Peoples Omega Alpha of Hels Proctors Since thou dost thus such Diuelish doctrines broach Is 't like Christs Flock Thou Guide can Heau'n approch Since thou'lt officiate Satans part so well Th' art Commissarie not of Heau'n but Hell Scriptures Thou cal'st the Booke of Heretickes And these Mans ioy thou burn'st like Brands or Stickes And though in other Bookes be thousand Lyes Onely the Bible as Delinquent Fries In vttrance strange Thy holy things are showne Which Ignorants conceiue like stupid Stone Hee which to men reades Scriptures fruitfully Casts Bread to Dogs to Hogs doth pearles apply Raw stomacks may their holyest things digest Their Picture-Pastures famisht Soules fill best A Players posture shewes Faiths Mysterie And Folkes in Flocks caru'd Saints doe rectifie Thus Bethel's made Bethauen th' Arke exilde Thus Molechs raigne Gods Temple hath defilde What talke I of their Glosses of dull Wit While their dull Bishop iests with sacred Writ Of Gods blest Word th' abused Maiesty Shewes in Romes rout that ther 's no piety Th' order of pristine Priests was once of Gold Now't's Wooden Why Wooden Popes Popedomes hold Keepers had need be kept Teachers be taught Curates of Cures be cur'd lest all be naught Illit'rate Lubbe●s base are dignifi'de To th' sacred Chaire comes nought but climbing pride Priests cloddy cloudy ignorance poore skill With most Cymmerian darknesse Temples fill With Babish toyes of Christ they Pulpits staine With impious Errours they chaste Faith prophaine Most drossy Darnell poysonous Pills they giue