Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	death_n	law_n	sin_n	5,839	5	5.9889	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A18585	A royall elegie Briefly describing the vertuous reigne, and happy (though immature) death of the most mightie and renowmed prince, King Edvvard the sixth, King of England, France and Ireland, &c. Who died in the sixteenth yeere of his age, and in the seuenth yeere of his reigne. Written by Sir Iohn Cheke, Knight, anno 1553. Neuer before published, but most worthy to be read of all estates in these our dayes.; Funeralles of King Edward the sixt	Baldwin, William, ca. 1518-1563?; Cheke, John, Sir, 1514-1557.	1610 (1610)	STC 5112; ESTC S107794	7,464	26

people nought by kind Tooke hart-of-grace the Preachers to despise With slaundrous words and shamelesse forged lies Gods bitter threats they made a very mocke His Preachers too a common iesting stocke As for amendment none at all was seene But into worse all ils were turned cleane When God had suffred all these things a space And saw at last how all refus'd his grace And that no threats might cause them to retire To stay the stroke of his consuming i●e He straight decreed to take the guiltlesse child For speed whereof he vtterly exil'd All meanes whereby he might recouer force And did permit all things to harme his corse Then grew his griefe his flesh began to swell And long he lay in pangs like to the hell Till at the last God pitying the paine Wherein so long the Innocent had laine Which eke he knew quite destitute of aide Did call for Death and thus to him he saide Dispatch at once to Greenwich see thou hie Whereas my seruant EDVVARD now doth lie In painefull pangs which he hath long beene in Not for his owne but for his peoples sin Enforce thine Arme and with thy piercing dart Deuide in twaine that godly piteous heart What weep'st thou Death cease foole and hold thy tong What though he be so beautifull and yong So godly a ' Prince so manly and so meeke As neuer Kingdome yet hath had his like He is too good for that vngodly Realme VVherefore I say go strike the stroke extreame Take no compassion on his tender youth His wit his Learning nor his loue to truth But wot'st thou what let not thy forme be such An ougly shape as to the worldly rich It oft appeares but pleasant as it is To such as long for euerlasting blisse With louely shape and smiling cheare I say Goefetch my King haue-done and goe thy way When dolefull death had heard this hard deuise He trim'd himselfe in his most godly guise Like Mercurie in euery kind of grace Saue that he had a much more louely face And forth he flew till he came to the bed Whereas this Prince lay neither quicke nor dead But in a trance for why his deadly griefe With nature stroue to proue who should be chiefe But when weake Nature had consum'd her best She yeelded streight and so the struggle ceast VVhereby the King came to himselfe againe And seeing Death he turn'd away amaine For why his youth and yet vnflowred breath Could not consent to so vnripe a Death Drie Death it selfe with pitie moued thoe Had such a do to hide his inward woe But seeing the louely Prince was so afraid With smiling cheere to comfort him he said Belou'd of God abash not but assent For God th' Almightie hath me to you sent Who ruing sore your griefe and wofull case Would haue you come to solace with his grace In ioy and blisse and euerlasting glorie From earthly things all vile and transitorie From this your state vncertaine and vnsure Unto a Reigne that shall for aye endure No sooner had our Soueraigne heard of this But that his spirit that much had long'd for blis Would needs away howbeit his carefull mind For this his Realme which he must leaue behind Enforc't his Grace to pray Death stay a while To th' end he might himselfe both reconcile To God the Lord and also recommend His Realme to him for euer to defend And while that Death for this cause gladly stay'd He sat him vp and thus deuoutly pray'd HAue mercy on me Father deere thou Lord and God of truth O let thy mercy hide the sins and frailety of my youth I haue transgrest thy Law too oft full wo is me therefore But for thy Son my Sauiours sake to mercy me restore My flesh doth craue to keepe the life full loth to leaue the light But Lord do thou as shall seeme best in thy Almighty sight whelme And when thou shalt receiue my soule which griefes now ouer Be mercifull most mercifull to this my silly Realme Preserue thy truth maintaine thy word poure plenty of thy grace On all their hearts whom thou shalt set to gouerne in my place Thus Lord I render to thy hands my selfe my flocke my seat Do with them all as thou think'st best for Christs sake I intreat AMEN quoth death and with his deadly dare Claue streight in twaine his feruent praying heart But Lord how glad the Ghost was of the stroke For when he saw his prison gate was broke Fast forth he flew and vp to heauen went To rest with Christ in ioy 's that neuer stent The dying body round about did sprall While they about him on the King did call Adawing him as if he were in swound But all for nought he had his mortall wound And when the bloud which would haue holpe the hart Had stifled it and left each other part Then wax't his face and hands all pale and wan And when the bloudlesse parts to coole began To heauen ward his hand and eyes he cast Downe fell his Jaw his heart-strings all to brast Thus dy'd this King this guiltlesse blessed child In body and Soule a Uirgine vndefil'd The sixteenth yeere of his vnperfect age VVo worth vs men whose sins'let run at rage Haue murdred him wo worth vs wretches all On whom the wreake of righteous bloud must fall VVo worth our sins for they alas haue slaine The Noblest Prince that euer yet did Raigne AN EPITAPH OR DEATH DOLE OF THE RIGHT Excellent Prince King EDVVARD the sixth who who died in the sixteenth yeere of his Age and in the seuenth yeere of his Reigne and was Buried at Westminster in the Tombe of his Grand-Father the eighth of August Anno Dom. 1553. THe noble hart which feare could neuer moue In which a vertuous fraighted mind did rest The face whose cheere allured vnto loue All harts through eyes which pittie whole possest The braine which wit wisdome made their chest Full stuft with all good gifts that man may haue Rest with a Princely carcas here in graue The vertuous gifts commixed with the mind As godly feare a zeale to further truth Such skill of tongues and arts of euery kind With manhood prudence iustice ioynd with ruth As age seld hath thogh here they greed with youth Are from their wemles vndefiled Ghost Gone hence to Heauen with the godly host Of which two parts fast link't in bonds of life It pleas'd the Lord to lend vs late a King But out alas our sins they were so rife And we so worthlesse of so good a thing That Atropos did cut in twaine the string Long ere her sisters sixteene wharles had spun Or we the gaine of seuen yeres Raigne throgh wun Wo worth our sins our sins our sins I say The wreake of them hath reft vs such an one As neuer Realme the like recouer may A peerelesse Prince a Phoenix bird alone Ah well is he but we full wo begon Our wicked liues haue lost this guiltlesse guide Whose ghost the heauē whose corse this herse doth hide FINIS