Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	bear_v	great_a	see_v	1,565	5	3.0235	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A44939	Pia desideria, or, Divine addresses in three books : illustrated with XLVII copper-plates / written in Latine by Herm. Hugo ; Englished by Edm. Arwaker.; Pia desideria. English	Hugo, Herman, 1588-1629.; Arwaker, Edmund, d. 1730.; Sturt, John, 1658-1730.	1686 (1686)	Wing H3350; ESTC R19094	62,987	283

loath'd place conspire ●o silence me and hinder your desire ●hall I driv'n far from the Seraphick Choir ●ouch the sweet Nerves of my Caelestial Lire Ah! Fortunes wounded Captive kindly spare My voice has lost its pleasing accents here Sorrow disorders and distorts my face I cannot give my Songs their former grace Shou'd I begin to sing or play 't wou'd be Some doleful Emblem of my misery My thoughts are all on my lost srate intent And close Companions of my Banishment Then why am I desir'd to play or sing Now grief has broke my voice and slackned ev'r● string Oh! my lov'd Countrey when I think on thee My Lute my Voice my Mind all lose their harmon● But if to Thee I happily return Then they shall all rejoyce as much as now th● mo●● Aug. Medit. cap. 35. ● that I could say such things as the Hymn-singing Choir of Angels How willingly would I powr forth my self in thy praises I charge you O Daughters of Ierusalem if you find my Beloved that you tell him that I am sick of Love Cant. 5. 8. EXTASIES OF THE Enamour'd Soul BOOK the Third I. I charge you O Daughters of Jerusalem if you find my Beloved that you tell him that I am sick of Love Cant. 5. 8. BLest Residents on the bright Thrones above Who are transform'd to the sublimest Love To my Belov'd my restless Passion bear And gently whisper 't in his sacred ear To him my sighs my languishments relate Tell him my flame dissolves me with its heat Tell him I pine beneath Loves torrid Zone As withering Flow'rs before the scorching Sun For scattering round his Darts among the rest He shot himself into my love-sick breast Thro all my flesh the Shaft like Lightning stole And with strange infl'ence seiz'd my melting So● Now in a flame unquenchable I burn Which does my breast t'another Aetna turn If a more full account he wou'd receive For Lovers always are inquisitive Tell him how pale how languishing I look And how I fainted when I wou'd have spoke If he enquires what pace my Feaver moves Oh! tell him I no Feaver feel but Love's Or if he asks what danger 's of my death Tell him I cou'd not tell for want of breath Tell him you bring no message sent by me But a relation of my misery Yet if he questions how in death I look Say how my Beauty has my face forsook Thus then delineate me amidst my woe That he my suff'rings and their cause may know Tell him I lie seiz'd with a deadly swoon A bloodless Corps stretch'd on the naked ground Tell him my eyes swim round my dizzy head And on my breast my feeble hand is laid The Corral of my Lips grows sickly pale And on my Cheeks the withering Roses fail My Veins tho chaf'd have lost their azure hue And this decay shews Nature failing too Nor any signs express remaining life But the worst symptoms sighs that vent my grief And yet I cannot any reason feign Why tho unhurt so often I complain I know not why unless the Tyrant Love Compels me thus his mighty Pow'r to prove This this was sure my sorrows only cause I lov'd yet knew not what a Lover was This from my breast extorted frequent fighs Ad prest the tears from my o'reflowing eyes This was the cause that when I strove to frame Remote discourse it ended with his Name Oh! then Tell the lov'd Object of my thought and eye How I his Martyr and his Victim die Distill'd in Loves Alimbeck I expire Parch'd up like Roses by too warm a fire Or dry'd like Lillies which have long in vain Begg'd the refreshment of a gentle Rain Tell Him the cause of all my grief will prove Without his help my Death for oh 't is LOV● Rupert in Cant. Tell him That I am sick of Love thro the great desire I have of seeing his face I endure the weariness of life and I can hardly bear the delay of my present Exile Stay me with flagons comfort me with apples for I am sick of Love Cant 2. 5. II. Stay me with flagons comfort me with apples for I am sick of love Cant. 2. 5. HOw strangely Love dost thou my will controul Thou pleasing Tyrant of my captiv'd Soul Oh! wou'dst thou have thy fiery torment last Slacken its heat for I consume too fast On other hearts imply thy Arrows pow'r For mine alas has now no room for more O spare thy own Artill'ry and my breath For the next shaft comes wing'd with certain Death Oh! I am lost and from my self estrang'd To Love my voice to Love my blood is chang'd From part to part insensibly he stole Till the sly Conqu'ror had subdu'd the whole Alas will no one pity my distress Will neither Earth nor Heav'n afford redress Canst Thou the author of my miseries Canst Thou behold me with relentless eyes Oh! haste you bright Inhabitants above My fellow-patients in this charming Love Rifle the Orchards and disrobe the Fields Bring all the Treasure Natures Store-house yields Bind fragrant Rose-buds to my temples first Then with cool apples quench my fiery thirst These may allay the Feaver of my blood Oh no! there 's nothing nothing does me good Against Loves force what Salve can Roses make Since ev'n themselves may hide the pois'nous Snake And Apples sure can small assistance give In one of them th' Old Serpent did deceive O then to slacken this tormenting fire The Rose of Sharon only I desire And for an Apple to asswage my grief Give it oh give it from the Tree of Life Then strow them gently on my Virgin-bed And as the withering Rose declines its head Compos'd to Death's long sleep my rest I 'll take Dream of my Love and in his arms awake Gislen in Cant. cap. 2. ●t is certainly a good languishment when the Disease is not to Death but Life that God may be glorified by it when that Heat and Feaver does not proceed from a consuming but rather from an improving fire My Beloved is mine and I am his he feedeth among the Lillies Cant. 2. 16. III. ●y Beloved is mine and I am his he feedeth among the Lillies Cant. 2. 16. BLest souls whose hearts burn with such equal fire As never but together will expire ●o your content I wou'd not Crowns prefer ●or all Heav'ns blessings are dilated there ●nd when with equal flames two Souls engage ●hat happy minute is Love's Golden age ●uch bliss I wish'd when Love at first possest ●nd rais'd his Standard in my trembling breast ●ow oft' I pray'd Whene're in Love I burn Grant me great Pow'r to find a just return The God return'd this answer to my pray'r ●ove first that Love its breaches may repair ● it thy will Almighty Love I cry'd ●'inlist a Soldier in thy Wars untry'd 'T is true my fellow-Maids have told me long The promis'd Joys of thy adoring throng But oft' my Nurse acquainted with the cheat Told me 't was all

often spar'd thy conquer'd Foe Less pleas'd to Conquer than to Pardon so No tyrant Passion rages in thy Breast But the meek Dove builds there her peaceful Nest And when thou wou'dst thy height of anger shew A sudden Calm unbends thy threatning brow And thou dost kindly raise the prostrate Foe With the same hand that shou'd have struck th● blow Wou'dst thou permit But oh what Eloquenc● Can with success appear in my defence Yet let me Lord plead for my self and Thee Lest ev'n thy Cause as mine may faulty be ●ord I confess I 've sinn'd but not alone Wilt thou impute a common Guilt to One Thy bare-fac'd Rebels prosper in their sin As if th' Extreme of Vice were meritting Thy brandisht Thunder thou hast oft' laid down And stretch'd a peaceful Olive in its room But ev'ry slip each inadvertency ●s magnify'd t'insuff'rable in me ● am the Mark of ev'ry wounding stroke As if I only did thy wrath provoke This I confess That most of all I do ● hear my Pray'r with my Confession too Accept the good Effects of an ill Cause And pardon sin that gains thee most applause Forgive me Conqu'ror since thou must confess Had I not err'd thy Glory had been less Greg. in 7 cap. Job lib. 8. cap. 23. ●hen God sets Man as a mark against him when Man by sinning has forsaken God But our just Creator set him as a mark against him because he thought him his enemy by his haughtiness Wherefore hidest thou thy face and holdest me for thine enimy Iob. 13. 24. VII Wherefore hidest thou thy face and holdest me for thine enemy Job 13. 24. IS' t my great Error or thy small Respect That I am treated with this cold neglect I thought thy frowns were but dissembled heat And all thy threatning looks an amorous cheat As tender Mothers draw the breast away To urge their pretty Innocents to play Or as the Nurse seems to deny a Kiss To make the fonder suppliant steal the Bliss So I believ'd thou didst avoid my sight Only to heighten my keen appetite But now alas 't is earnest all I find And not pretended Anger but design'd My kind Embrace you coyly entertain As if we never shou'd be Friends again And with such eager haste my presence shun As men from Monsters or Infection run As if my looks wou'd turn you into stone But fear not that the work 's already done So cold you are so senseless of my smart Some Magick sure has petrify'd your heart O let me know what Crime I must deplore That lets me see your dear-lov'd Face no more Why must I Love that Face no longer see That ne're till now once look'd awry on me Sure you believe there 's poyson in my breath Or that my eyes dart unavoided Death Prevent the danger with thy conqu'ring eye Unsheath its Rays and let let'Offender die Or else discharge a frown and strike me dead For more than Death I your Displeasure dread Your eyes are all I wish let them be mine The Sun unmist by me may cease to shine But if depriv'd of them not his faint light Nor all its Objects can reprize my sight Then think my Love with pity and remorse How I am tortur'd by this sad Divorce Think on the pains of unregarded Love And blame their cause if them you disapprove Amb. Apolog. pro David If any of our Servants offend us we are wont not to look upon them If this be thought a punishment among Men how much more with God for you see that God turned away his face from the Offering of Cain O that my Head were Waters and mine Eyes a fountain of Tears that I might weep day and night Ier. 9. 1. VIII O that my Head were Waters and mine Eyes a fountain of Tears that I might weep day and night Jer. 9. 1. OH that my head were one vast source of tears With bubling streams as num'rous as my hairs That grief with inexhaustible supplies Wou'd fill the Cisterns of my flowing eyes Till the fierce torrents which those springs impart Flow down my breast and stagnate round my heart Not all the tears the Royal Psalmist shed With which his Couch was wash'd himself was fed Nor those which once the weeping Mary powr'd To wash the feet of her forgiving Lord Nor those which drown'd the great Apostle's breast Whose boasted Zeal shrunk at th' affrighting Test Nor these nor more than these can e're suffice To cleanse the stains of my Impieties Give me the undiscover'd source of Nile That with sev'n Streams o'reflows th' Aegyptian So Or let Noe's wondrous Deluge be renew'd Till I am drown'd in the impetuous Flood O that these Fountains wou'd their course begin And flow as fast as I made haste to sin The weeping Limbecks never shou'd give o're Till the last drop had empty'd all their store How do I grudge the Clouds their envy'd Rain How wish the boundless Treasures of the Main Then shou'd my Tears like that just motion keep And I shou'd take a strange delight to weép Nor the swift current of my grief forbid Till in the waves this little World were hid Hid as the neighb'ring Valleys are o'respread When the warm Sun melts Pindus snowy head The blest Assyrian found in Jordans Seas A happy Med'cine for his foul Disease ●●t what kind Torrent will my Cure begin And cleanse my filthier Leprosie of Sin See! from my Saviour's side a stream of Blood ●ll bath my self in that Redeeming Flood ●hat healing Torrent was on purpose spilt ●o wash my stains and expiate all my guilt ●hat ever-flowing Ocean will suffice ●or the defect of my exhausted Eyes Hieron in Jerem. cap. 9. If I were all dissolv'd to Tears and those not only some few drops but an Ocean or a Deluge I should never weep enough The Pains of Hell came about me the snares of Death overtook me Psal 18. 4. IX The pains of Hell came about me the snares of Death overtook me Psal 18. 4. WHile in this sad distress my self I view Methinks I make Actaeon's story true Long I the pleasures of the Wood pursu'd Till like its Beasts my self grew wild and rude I hop'd with Hunting to divert my care But ran at last into the secret Snare Yet to those Woods alas I did not go Whose inn'cent Sports give health and pleasure too I spread no Toils to take the tim'rous Deer Nor aim'd my Javlin at the rugged Bear Happy had I my time so well imploy'd Nor had I been by my own Game destroy'd I had not then mis-spent my youthful days Nor torn my flesh among sharp thorny ways But I alas still ply'd the sparkling Wine That poys'nous Juice of the pernicious Vine And this expos'd me to Loves fatal Dart The false betray'r of my unguarded heart Love not contented with his Bowe alone Has more destructive Instruments than One Nor Wine alone on its own strength depends But uses Arts t'intoxicate its Friend Thus Sampson by his