Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	good_a	king_n	lord_n	4,716	5	3.8323	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B03166	The elegy on that reverend presbyter Mr. William Jenkins, who finisht his obstinacy the 19th. of January in the goal of Newgate, where are above fourscore dissenters, of almost as many of the several scattered churches remaining. In a dialogue between despair and comfort: in imitation of a former elegy, in dialogue between faith and sense. Seiz'd and supprest by authority.		1685 (1685)	Wing E367; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.3[75]; ESTC R27318	2,268	1

THE ELEGY On that Reverend Presbyter Mr. WILLIAM JENKINS Who Finisht his Obstinacy the 19th of January in the Goal of Newgate where are above Fourscore Dissenters of almost as many of the several scattered Churches remaining In a Dialogue between Despair and Comfort In Imitation of a former Elegy in Dialogue between Faith and Sense 29. Jan. 1685 4. Seiz'd and supprest by Authority Despair PRisons accurst and more accursed Law Why will you from the fainting Brethren draw More mournful Notes and from their Eyes more Tears Than all the Blood of almost twenty Years Which their Reforming pious Swords ere drew When the new Israel the Philistian Thousands slew Comfort Leave Murm'ring his freed Soul has found Relief From Two Confinements both his Equal Grief Call'd by his great and potent Masters down From a loath'd Hierarchy and hated Crown Weep for thy self for he 's for Bliss design'd Leaving a Toryfied curst World behind Despair Lament I must and will in such a strain Shall wake even Noll and Bradshaw's Ghost again I will roar out and with a Voice so shrill As even great TONYES mighty Court shall fill I 'll call the Furies up and summon all Our aiding Friends below t' avenge his Fall Comfort Weep not in Jayl he drew his latest Breath And Justice self 's a Tyrant in his Death Great Charles his barbarous and lawless Doom Was Good and Just but if even Law presume Nay after a whole Age of Mercy come To touch the suff'ring Saint 't is MARTYRDOM Nor shall we want those Trumpets to declare How Rome and Hell ' gainst Truth and Heav'n make War Despair Oh that my Head were Waters for a Showr Of Tears as large as fell that cursed Hour When Keeling's Sacramental Silence broke Or Burnett in the dying Russell spoke Remembrance of our Dear Republick Raign And the old politick Game reviv'd in vain And this dear Champion laid in Honours Bed Calls all the Brine our Bloodshot Eyes can shed Comfort Forbear this dull Mistake thy fruitless Cryes Bespeak Impatience 't is but Jenkins dyes His transmigrated Spirit stays you know To animate the Brethren Saints below His Death to us should but new Life afford Warm'd with th' old Glory with th' old conquering Sword To fight the famous Battels of the Lord. Despair Ah but he 's gone That word more Terror brings Than the old Ax that cut the Throat of KINGS When Monarchs bleed the Stroke's not worth a Tear But here our Loss does darker Mourning wear He 's gone who almost six and forty Years Preach'd up the Good OLD CAUSE in Sighs and Tears That Saint who in the Days of Reformation By his long painful Gospel-propagation So many Hearts so many Hands could bring To raise the glorious Scaffold of a King He whose blest Labours could thus far prevail Finisht his Testimony in a Jayl Comfort Cease Exclamations tho' his Race is run Dying before the finisht Work was done By Popish Noise and pious Oats begun Still constant in adhering to th' Intrigue O● th' ever blest Associating League His pitied and untimely Fate but draws Thousands of new made Converts to the Cause Dying in Jayl he loudly Preaches more More than in all the Tubs he thumpt before Despair If gasping Anarchy endures such Rubs When Cedars fall what will become of Shrubs How shall the faintness of a strength so weak The Gown and Mitres Long-loath'd Union break In Jenkins speechless Tongue does silenc'd ly A greater piece of Kirk Artillery ' Gainst Tory Laws Crown'd Heads and Prelate Loons Than Colledge Flails and Rumbold's Musquetoons Comfort No we 'll not fear an overthrow or harm Whilst Antichrist and Poperies long-tried charm Shall raise us Bulwarks Who can Leaders want Under the Bannors of the Covenant For tho' grim Death does home some servants call That Charm shall conjure strength to conquer all Despair But oh what curst Infatuation broke Justice and Laws long sleep thus to provoke The Royal Frowns to raise this fatal stroak See trembling Sion shakes Can it be hoped The Kirk can stand when it is thus unprop'd When thus our Corner-stone to Fate must shrink Ah! how my troubled Soul 's amaz'd to think How the whole fainting tottering Pile will sink Comfort No All must die In dust our Prophet see Nought but our Mighty Cause so strong can be As to claim Patents t'Immortality When the've done all let Law and Power still frown Like the dissected Snake crush'd and run down We 'll re-cement to sting the Church and Crown Could Peter thrice his Sovereign Lord deny Our glorious Cause that Spirit shall supply As shall three thousand times our King 's defy Despair But oh the heavy Law 's a blow too sore When even INDULGENCE was no less before What 's TOLERATION without Sovereign power The Kirk Dominion lost and King restored Was a sad stroak to 'th Servants of the Lord. When once the Pagan Organs play'd too soon All our Spiritual Hymns were out of tune Comfort There was a Time WE exercis'd the Rod O're Heathen Strafford Laud and CHARLES when GOD WITH US the Beatifick Rump empowr'd And heavenly Love in Royal Gore was showr'd That dear remembrance mitigates our crosses Whilst future hope shall ease our present losses Despair My Eyes must vent my grief upon his Herse And weep in earnest tho' I weep in Verse When Absalom died a Royal Tear was shed And with great Charles an Innate Mercy bred Mourns even to take a forfeit Traitours Head So must I take a priviledge to mourn A Shimei or Achitophel t' his Urn. Comfort Dry up thy Tears for whom thou mourn'st is blest In Death he meets the Whigs long Stranger REST. Tho' turbulent against the Royal Will The Grave has laid the restless Engine still In-Patience wait our rip'ning Plots attend To mount the Cause and Righted Kirk defend ACROSTICK Well now e'n Heav'nwards let thy Soul repair If thou art sure that no Lawn Sleeves are there Look to it Jenkins for 't is worth thy Care Lawn Sleeves 't is certain no small power have show'd In keeping thee from Church if not from God And more than 20 mourning years o're-past Mitre and Surplice broke thy heart at last Jn the old Days the Blessed Directory Egypt's dear Flesh-pot was thy Pride and Glory Now with the Liturgies long Mannatyred Kecking to peuck th' ore-straining Saint expired In Covenants and Holy Leagues long tyed No longer could the nauseous Taste abide So in a kind of a Scotch Qualmhe died Sold by Walter Davis in Amen-Corner 1685.