Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	body_n	power_n	soul_n	2,506	5	5.3976	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A12633	Mœoniæ. Or, Certaine excellent poems and spirituall hymnes: omitted in the last impression of Peters complaint being needefull thereunto to be annexed, as being both diuine and wittie. All composed by R.S.	Southwell, Robert, Saint, 1561?-1595.	1595 (1595)	STC 22955.5; ESTC S117673	10,446	38

Praise thy Captaine and thy Pastour With hymnes and solemne harmony What power affords performe indeede His works all praises farre exceede No praise can reach his dignity A speciall theame of praise is read A liuing and a life giuing bread Is on this day exhibited Within the supper of our Lord To twelue disciples at his bord As doubtlesse twas deliuered Let our praise be lou'd and free Full of ioy and decent glee With mindes and voices melody For now solemnize we that day Which doth with ioy to vs display The priuy vse of this mistery At this borde of our new ruler Of new Law new pascall order The ancient rite abolisheth Old decrees by new annild Shadowes are in trueth fulfilld Day former darkenes finisheth That at supper Christ performed To be done he straightly charged For his eternall memory Guided by his sacred orders Bread and wine vpon our altars To sauing host we sanctifie Christians are by faith assured That to flesh the bread is changed The wine to blood most precious That no wit nor sence conceiueth Firme and grounded faith belieueth In strange affects not curious Vnder kindes two in appearance Two in shew bnt one in substance Be things beyond comparison Flesh is meat blood drinke most heauenly Yet is Christ in each kinde wholy Most free from al diuision None that eateth him doth chew him None that takes him doth denie him Receiued he whole perseuereth Be there one or thousands housoled One as much as all receiued He by no eating perisheth Both the good and bad receiue him But effects are diuers in them True life or true destruction Life to the good death to the wicked Marke how both alike receiued With farre vnlike conclusion When the priest the hoast deuideth Know that each part abideth All that the whole hoast couered Forme of bread not Christ is broken Not of Christ but of his token Is state or stature altered Angels bread made Pilgrimes feeding Truely bread for childrens eating To dogs not to be offered Signd by Isacke on the alter By the Lambe and paschall supper And in the manna figured Iesu food and feeder of vs Here with mercie feede and friend vs Then grant in heauen felicitie Lord of all whom here thou feedest Fellow heires guests with thy dearest Make vs in heauenly company S. Peters afflicted minde IF that the sicke may grone Or Orphane mourne his losse If wounded wretch may rue his harmes Or caitife shew his crosse If heart consumde with care May vtter signes of paine Then may my brest be sorrowes home And tongue with cause complaine My maladie is sinne And langour of the minde My body but a lazars couch Wherein my soule is pinde The care of heauenly kinde Is death to my reliefe Forlorne and left like Orphan child With sighs I feede my griefe My wounds with mortall smart My dying soule torment And prisoner to mine owne mishaps My follies I repent My heart is but the haunt Where all dislikes do keepe And who can blame so lost a wretch Though teares of blood he weepe S. Peters remorse REmorse vpbraids my faults Selfe blaming conscience cries Sinne claimes the hoast of humbled thoughts And streames of weeping eies Let penance Lord preuaile Let sorrow sue release Let loue be vmpier in my cause And passe the doome of peace If doome go by desert My least desert is death That robs from soule immortall ioies From body mortall breath But in so high a God So base a wormes annoy Can adde no praise vnto thy power No blisse vnto thy ioy Well may I frie in flames Due fuell to hell fire But on a wretch to wreake thy wrath Can not be worth thine ire Yet sith so vile a woorme Hath wrought his greatest spight Of highest treason well thou maist In rigor him endite But mercy may relent And temper iustice rod For mercy doth as much belong As iustice to a God If former time or place More right to mercy winne Thou first wert author of my selfe The vmpier of my sinne Did mercie spin the thread To weaue in Iustice loome Wert thou a father to conclude With dreadfull Iudges doome It is a small reliefe To say I was thy child If as an ill deseruing foe From grace I am exilde I was I had I could All words importing want They are but dust of dead supplies Where needefull helpes are scant Once to haue beene in blisse That hardly can returne Doth but bewray from whence I fell And wherefore now I mourne All thoughts of passed hopes Encrease my present crosse Like ruines of decaied ioies They still vpbraide my losse O milde and mightie Lord Amend that is amisse My sinne my soare thy loue my salue Thy cure my comfort is Comfirme thy former deedes Reforme that is defilde I was I am I will remaine Thy charge thy choice thy childe Man to the wound in Christs side O Pleasant port O place of rest O royall rist O worthy wound Come harbour me a wearie guest That in the world no case haue found I lie lamenting at thy gate Yet dare I not aduenture in I beare with me a troublous mate And cumbred am with heape of sinne Discharge me of this heauie load That easier passage I may finde Within this bowre to make aboade And in this glorious tombe be shrin'd Here must I liue here must I die Here would I vtter all my griefe Heere would I all those paines discrie Which heere did meete for my releefe Here would I view the bloudy sore Which dint of spitefull speare did breed The bloody wounds laid there in store Would force a stony heart to bleede Heere is the spring of trickling teares The mirror of all mourning wights With dolefull tunes for dumpish cares And solemne shewes for sorrowed sights O happie soule that flies so hie As to attaine this sacred caue Lord send me wings that I may flie And in this harbour quiet haue Vpon the Image of death BEfore my face the picture hangs That daily should put me in mind Of those cold names and bitter pangs That shortly I am like to finde But yet alas full little I Do thinke hereon that I must die I often looke vpon a face Most vgly grisly bare and thinne I often view the hollow place Where eies and nose haue sometimes bin I see the bones acrosse that lie Yet little thinke that I must die I reade the Labell vnderneath That telleth me whereto I must I see the sentence eake that saith Remember man that thou art dust But yet alas but seldome I Do thinke indeede that I must die Continually at my beds head A hearse doth hang which doth me tel That I yer morning may be dead Though now I feele my selfe full well But now alas for all this I Haue little mind that I must die The gowne which I do vse to weare The knife wherewith I cut my meate And eke that old and ancient chaire Which is my onely vsuall seate All those do

did eclipse their raines Yet through this cloud their passage they did finde And pierc'd these sages hearts by secret waies Which made them know the ruler of the skies By infant tongue and lookes of babish eies Heauen at her light earth blushes at her pride And of their pompe these peeres ashamed be Their crownes their robes their traines they set aside When Gods poore cottage clouts and crew they see All glorious things their glorie now despise Sith God Contempt doth more then glory praise Three gifts they bring three gifts they beare away For incense mirre and gold faith hope and loue And with their gifts the giuers hearts do stay Their mind from Christ no parting can remoue His humble state his stall his poore retinew They fancy more then all their rich reuenew The Presentation TO be redeemed the worlds Redeemer brought Two silly turtle doues for ransome paies O wares with empires worthy to be bought This casie rate doth sound not drowne thy praise For sith no price can to thy worth amount A doue yea loue due price thou doest account Old Simeon cheape penny worth and sweete Obteind when thee in armes he did imbrace His weeping eies thy smiling lookes did meet Thy loue his heart thy kisses blest his face O eies O hart meane sights and loues auoyde Base not your selues your best you haue enioyde O virgin pure thou dost those doues present As due to lawe not as an equall price To buy such ware thou wouldst thy selfe haue spent The world to reach his worth could not suffice If God were to be bought not worldly pelfe But thou wert fittest price next God himselfe The flight into Egypt ALas our day is forst to flie by night Light without light and sunne by silent shade O nature blush that suffrest such a wight That in thy sunne thy darke eclipse hast made Day to his eies light to his steps denie That hates the light which graceth euery eie Sunne being fled the starres do loose their light And shining beames in bloodie streames they drench A cruell storme of Herods mortall spight Their liues and lights with bloody showers do quench The tyrant to be sure of murdring one For feare of sparing him doth pardon none O blessed babes first flowers of christian spring Who though vntimely cropt faire garlandes frame With open throats and silent mouthes you sing His praise whom age permits you not to name Your tunes are teares your instruments are swords Your ditty death and blood in hew of wordes Christs returne out of Egypt VVHen death and hell their right in Herod claime Christ from exile returnes to natiue soile There with his life more deepely death to maime Then death did life by all the infantes spoile He shewed the parents that the babes did mone That all their liues were lesse then his alone But hearing Herods sonne to haue the crowne The impious offspring of the bloudy sire To Nazareth of heauen beloued towne Flowre to a flowre he fitly doth retire For he is a flower and in a flower he bred And from a thorne now to a flowre he fled And well deserud this flower his fruit to view Where hee inuested was in mortall weede Where first vnto a tender bud he grew In virgin branch vnstaind with mortall seede Young flower with flowers in flower well may he be Ripe fruit he must with thornes hang on a tree Christes bloody sweat FAt soile full spring sweete oliue grape of blisse That yeelds that streams that powers that dost distil Vntild vndrawne vnstampt vntoucht of presse Deare fruit cleare brookes faire oile sweete wine at will Thus Christ vnforst preuents in sheeding blood The whips the thornes the naile the speare and roode He Pelicans he Phenix fate doth proue Whom flames consume when streames enforce to die How burneth bloud how bleedeth burning loue Can one in flame and streame both bath and frie How would he ioine a Phenix fiery paines In fainting Pelicans still bleeding vaines Christs fleeping friends WHen Christ with care pangs of death opprest From frighted flesh a bloody sweate did raine And full of feare without repose or rest In agony did watch and pray in vaine Three sundrie times he his disciples findes With heauie eies but farre more heauie mindes With milde rebuke he warned them to wake Yet sleepe did still their drousie sences hold As when the sunne the brightest shew doth make In darkest shrouds the night birds them infolde His foes did watch to worke their cruell spight His drousie friends slept in his hardest night As Ionas sayled once from Ioppaes shoare A boystrous tempest in the aire did broile The waues did rage the thundring heauens did roare The stones the rockes the lightnings threatned spoile The shippe was billowes game and chaunces pray Yet carelesse Ionas mute and slumbring lay So now though Iudas like a blustring gust Do stirre the furious sea of Iewish ire Though storming troopes in quarrels most vniust Against the barke of all our blisse conspire Yet these disciples sleeping lie secure As though their wonted calmes did still endure Ionas once his heauie limmes to rest Did shrowd himselfe in iuy pleasant shade But lo while him a heauy sleepe opprest His shadowy bowre to withered stalke did fade A cankered worme did gnaw the root away And brought the glorious branches to decay O gracious plant O tree of heauenly spring The paragon for lease for fruit and flower How sweete a shadow did thy branches bring To shrowd these soules that chose thee for their bower But now while they with Ionas fall asleepe To spoile their plant an enuious worme doth creepe Awake you slumbring wights lift vp your eies Marke Iudas how to teare your roote he striues Alas the glory of your arbor dies Arise and guard the comfort of your liues No Ionas iuy no Zacheus tree Were to the world so great a losse as he The virgin Mary to Christ on the Crosse. WHat mist hath dimd that glorious face what seas of griefemy sun doth tosse The golden raies of heauenly grace lies now ecclipsed on the crosse Iesus my loue my sonne my God behold thy mother washt in teares Thy bloody wounds be made a rod to chasten these my latter yeares You cruel Iewes come worke your ire vpon this worthlesse flesh of mine And kindle not eternall fire by wounding him which is diuine Thou messenger that didst impart his first discent into my womb Come helpe me now to cleaue my heart that there I may my sonne intombs You Angels all that present were to shew his birth with harmony Why are you now not ready here to make a mourning symphony The cause I know you waile alone and shed your teares in secresie Lest I should moued be to mone by force of heauie company But waile my soule thy comfort aies my wofull wombe lament thy fruit My heart giueteares vnto my eies let sorrow string my heauy lute A holy Hymne PRaise O Sion praise thy Sauiour