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 lord_n see_v 4,192 5 3.2926 3 true
View all documents for the selected quad

Text snippets containing the quad

ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A61073 Prison-pietie, or, Meditations divine and moral digested into poetical heads, on mixt and various subjects : whereunto is added a panegyrick to the right reverend, and most nobly descended, Henry Lord Bishop of London / by Samuel Speed ... Speed, Samuel, 1631-1682.; Herbert, George, 1593-1633.; Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644. 1677 (1677) Wing S4902; ESTC R1711 99,936 245

There are 2 snippets containing the selected quad. | View lemmatised text

intreat For we are all condemned there Lord then O cast a look On thy Book Of Life behold we read A Saving Jesus here And in that Name our sure Salvation see Lord make us free And cross within Our scores of sin That cancel'd all our debts are paid by thee ¶ On Heaven BRight glorious Lord uncircumscribed Treasure Of everlasting Pleasure Thy Throne is placed far Above the richest Star Where thou prepar'st a splendid place Within the glory of thy face That each Spirit May inherit Who builds his hopes 〈◊〉 thy merit And thee adores with holy charity No ravish'd heart seraphick tongue or eyes Inspir'd can once surmise Or speak or think or see So bright Eternity The glorious King 's transparent Throne Is of pretious Jasper-stone Where the eye O' th' Chrysolite With a Skie Of Di'monds Rubies Chrysoprase But above all thy brighter face Speaks an eternal Charity When thou thy Jewels bindest up that day Forget not us we pray But there where the Beryl lies Christal too above the Skies That there thou mayst afford us place Within the glories of thy face And enroul Each ones Soul In the Scroul Of Life and Blessedness that we May praise thy Name unto Eternitie ¶ On Hell DIsmal darkness sad and sore An everlasting Night Groans and Shricks when sinners roar In their abyssful plight No corner there but hath a Snake Breeding in the infernal Lake Heaps of Fire and Beds of Snow Are the chief delights below A Viper springing from the fire Is his hire That prizeth moments to Eternity O thou God of Day and Night Fountain of eternal light Allelujahs Hymns and Psalms Holy Coronets of Palms Adorn the Temple evermore Almighty God Let not thy Iron Rod Bruise our bones with an eternal pressure Let thy mercy be the only measure If thou shouldst hoard up wrath in store We shall all die Not one be left to glorifie The Lord and tell How thou preserved hast our Souls from Hell ¶ The Salutation of Saints JEsus who man's Redeemer art The solace of each godly heart The ransom'd World's great Architect Chast light of Souls which thee affect What mercy conquer'd thee my God That thou wouldst bear our sinful load And innocent wouldst death endure That us from death thou mightst secure Still let commiseration press To give our damages redress And by fruition of thy sight Inrich us with a blessed light Thou guide to Heav'n and path to Rest Be thou the scope of ev'ry brest Be thou the comfort of our tears Our sweet reward above the Spheres ¶ On Pride THe proud man looks that ev'ry one should shew A Reverence to him though none they owe. I 'll value such as we do coyn set forth Just what they go for rather than their worth Pride unto Reason seemeth ever strange Is Reason absent there 't is Pride doth range And then for Reason there is none beside That is so highly opposite to Pride For Reason maketh Art Dame Nature's ape And Pride turns Nature out of Nature's shape ¶ Jeremiah's Lamentation For Jerusalem's Desolation COnsider Lord the wretched poor and vile A glorious City no sh 'as lost that stile She and her joys are under an Exile Behold and see Thou Lord as in a Wine-press hast her trod And crush'd her Virgins with an Iron Rod Sin was the cause but Lord thou art her God May it please thee To wipe away her Tears that do pour down Cause thou that art the Comforter dost frown O let repentant Tears offences drown And send relief O all ye passing by behold her sorrow Jerusalem Jerusalem would borrow Tears of ye all but none will say Good morrow The more 's her grief Her Sucklings sigh and cry for Corn and Wine Whilst she her self for want thereof doth pine Jerusalem was ever grief like thine Behold and weep She that was call'd the Joy of all the Earth Is Desolation now and nothing worth Her sorrows to her Enemies are mirth Her Lovers sleep The apples of her eyes do finde no rest Their streams o'reflow the flood-gates she 's distrest And sorrow doth become a constant guest Doth never fail Her old and young ones both lie on the ground Her Priests and Prophets thou dost deeply wound Terrours on ev'ry side beset her round On hill and dale Wormwood besots she seems as she were drunk This angry tempest hath her treasure shrunk She that was full of people now is sunk And desolate Her Soul 's remov'd from any glimpse of Peace Prosperity is fled there doth increase But sad effects of groans which never cease Such is her fate They that on Delicates were wont to feed In Dust and Ashes now lament their need Jerusalem is bow'd and broke indeed But God is just The Enemies they did her Maidens finde And ravished her Young men forc'd to grinde Confider Lord how she with grief hath pinde Upon the dust Remember Lord her Wormwood and her Gall Oh hear her sad complaints and ease her thrall Lord hear my Pray'rs and Tears for her I call In mercy see Oh lay that darksome Cloud from off thy face One smile will say thou think'st upon her case Oh hear and help her Lord of thy good grace Thou glorious Three Judge and revenge her cause O Lord my God Behold her scorners how they mock and nod In mercy towards her withdraw thy Rod. Lord let her cry Unto thee fly And let her not Be quite forgot As if O Lord she never were That she may sing Of thee her King That unto thee none may compare ¶ On Sin SIn is such an uncouth thing I cannot well define it Death doth own it is his sting God bids me undermine it But it so cunning is that when I think to win the day It now comes over under then And blows my baits away It seiz'd my Parents and beguil'd More learned men than I And when I think it is most milde I have most cause to fly At Church when I Devotion have It hovers o're my book And bids me think upon my Grave And off the other look Invisible it is no doubt And felt before 't is seen It subtilly can wheel about And like an Angel seem Good deeds I know accepted are And will be evermore But if I do not well I sear Sin lieth at the door Sin as a Serpent cunningly Doth lurk upon the scout That if my foot but tread awry My sins they finde me out If I with Brother break my word The fact may not be great But if I sin against the Lord Who shall for me intreat Many the faults are of my Youth I have been oft misled But they are blessed faith the truth Whose sin is covered Wherefore O Lord I will confess What in those days I did O grant thy merciful redress And let my sins be hid But I with heart and knee will bow In duty to adore thee Then recollect and study how To set my sins before me Shap'd in Iniquity I was A
begins He never thinks with a true pious wrath How many darling-sins his bosom hath Nor Alms nor Prayers ne're fall unless he spy Although at distance certain witness by As if he doubted whether God would own Receiving them and is so wary grown That left the World should not discern his worth His mouth 's the Trumpet that doth sound it forth And when his Bags run o're bethinks to build An Hospital and that is straightway fill'd With persons indigent did aged grow Poor as when born for he had made them so With flesh on Frydays he will not be fed He more abhors it than his Neighbours bed Will at the Name of Jesus bow or nod At Church anon at Tavern swear by God When his Step-mother's sick and seems to creep Towards her Grave he then brings Tears to weep When he hath cause to fear she will not die He forces a rejoycing-sympathie With her best friends 'T is hard to rightly paint An Hypocrite To strangers he 's a Saint A meer pretender to the Poors relief Private Extortioner his Neighbours grief The blot of goodness scoff in good mens fight A rotten Stick to trust in dark of night A Candle temper'd ill with a large snuff The Poor man's Plague and a religious Huff The Fool 's great Idol and the Wife man's scorn A choaking Poppy in a field of Corn Abroad an Angel free from least of evil At home none more implacable a Devil And when an Angel worse a guide amiss But when a Devil shews but what he is As the Apostle's Phrase is many men Are servants of the eyes for they shall when They are beheld act Vertue with a grace And in their Zeal run with a thorow pace When they perceive Spectators all are gone They change their habits for the Play is done They curious Searchers are in others acts Careless Correctors of their own foul facts They to their Lust and Lewdness are so prone They think they 're safe because espi'd by none Thus an ill nature leadeth man to sin And corrupt custom bids him ' bide therein When carnal Constitutions get a head They like Commanders do weak mortals lead But for the Hypocrite he seems a friend Will promise much but not without an end Nothing perform but many he hath broke Receiving substance but returning smoke And he whose quality is eminent More foul's the quality of his intent Acts that dishonourable are look great In them by blood or parts have Honours seat The Publican and Sinner have more right To Heaven's Mansions than an Hypocrite I with Prolixity might spoil my Pen For he 's in verity the scum of men The worst of damned Souls their portion have With him in hot and horrid scorching Cave There leave we him and his tormented bone Measuring minutes with deep sighs and groar ¶ On Envy ALl lusts reduced are to Three-fold heads Lust of the eyes the flesh and that which leads To as much Vice and a continual Strife The haughty humour or the pride of life But Envy is the chiefest lust of eyes Seeing another good with him it vies Not to be farther good his envy grew Seeing good men belov'd and honour'd too Envy thinks all men made of equal stuff Why may not envious men be good enough It for the Innocent defends a Cause To seem a Saint and to procure applause But 't is a Plague within a man 's own brest And a Disease will not admit of Rest. If such a thing as Admiration be It 's heart doth whisper That belongs to me It is a furious wind which to rehearse Sometimes breaks forth to shake the Universe A sharp Malignity most quick of sight An Ostrich with an eager appetite Cherish a Do●… and you may make him tame Lions by gentleness become the same But man grown ●…vious if you speak him fair Yet keep at distance of his wiles beware For if he sees you creep then he proves worse May smile upon you when his heart doth curse 〈◊〉 the World's frowns do force you to comply He gluts himself with your adversity And Beetle-like as I have heard it sung When hungry grown doth eat its fellows dung Whilst Envy doth obliquely look upon The good of others all his own is gone Or at the least takes no delight the smart Is like a Vulture seeding on the heart The Basilisk by nature kills all Trees And Shrubs it breatheth on and when he please Doth scorch and burn all Herbs and Leaves of Grass Over the which his body chance to pass So Envy is an Aetna in a man Like the Cantharides if seeding can Encompass as its stomach doth dispose And often diets on the fairest Rose It is a Passion doth ones Health deser And proves at last a man's Self-murtherer 'T is Couzen-German to the sin of Pride And each may well be call'd a Homicide Wrath kills the foolish man when in his way The envious man the silly Soul doth slay The eye alas is the unhappy pit That first doth this destructive guest admit And when it gets a full possession once It shrinks the Nerves and rots into the bones Till with Consumption it doth man environ Feeding on him as Rust doth seed on Iron Envy believes its will should be its law Socrates saith 'T is to the Soul a Saw Grates without mercy when it doth behold Its dross and sees another shine in gold Like the poor Fly to put the Candle out Doth burn it self with buzzing round about Or like the Bee that with a humming flies Looses his sting and then at once he dies Or Viper-like to make a Paul expire Leaping on him is cast into the fire Envy 's a Canker in the Heart and Minde Spleen to the good Great Charity is kinde ¶ On Supplication AS in a Ship when sailing from its Port The Sails are Loised thereby to exhort Some skilful Mariner to shew his art Who presently doth to the Rudder start So every morning when we rise from rest Our hearts should study for a just Request For that 's the Rudder of our life and age To guide us through our Earthly Pilgrimage Heav'n is our home and God alone to him Through Rivers of our Tears we ought to swim For when God's wrath is kindled to a fire No other water can allay his ire Christians no better Messengers can send Than Prayers and Tears Angels on them attend Moses by Prayer that prevailing Word Harm'd Amalik much more than Israel's Sword Th' Apostle Paul this golden Rule hath laid Let supplications for all men be made In which great duty let this be observ'd First a due preparation not with carv'd Or starch'd Expressions made by Wit and Art God doth desire truth in the inward part Consider thou the Supplicant art dust A vile and sinful man a heap of Lust. The Lord to whom thou dost thy Prayers apply Is Holy Wise of Sacred Majesty Let Meditation guide thee in thy way Lest thy frail minde distracted be and ftray Pray