Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	king_n	law_n	lord_n	4,135	5	3.8427	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A73066	The remors of conscyence Here begynneth certayne demonstracyons by our lorde to all synfull persones with ye remors of mann[es] conscynce to the regarde o[f] the bounte of our lorde.		1515 (1515)	STC 20881.7; ESTC S124837	4,304	16

The remors of conscyence ¶ Here begynneth certayne demonstracyons by our lorde to all synfull persones with the Remors of mann●● conscyence to the regarde o● the bounte of our lorde Deus OVr gracyous god moost in magnyfycēce His mercyfull eyen casteth frō heue on hy Seynge his creatures in deedly vyolēce Hymselfe complayneth by pyte full ruthfully Saynge o man deuoyde of intellygence Open thyn eeres vnto my call and cry And tell me yf I haue done to the offence That thou forsakest my wyllyngly Man suche a loue to the I dyde take This worlde in seuen dayes whan I it wrought Thou was the laste thynge that I dyde make Bycause I wolde thou wanted nought What thynge the myght helpe dyde not lake That at thy nede yf it were sought Fowle fysshe all thynge for thy sake For thy comforte all was forth brought More ouer I gaue the that dygnyte All beestes to bowe the vntyll I made the also lyke vnto me And gaue the connynge and free wyll Me to serue that thou sholde se To chose the good and leue the yll I aske nothynge agayne of the But loue thy souerayne as it is skyll But vnto this takest thou none entente Thou tournest fro me full vnkyndly On loues vnlefull thy loue is lente Thy herte beholdeth not heuen so hye For all the goodes I haue the sente The lysteth not ones to saye gramercye In tyme to come or thou repente Man make amendes or that thou dye Remors of conscy A crysten soule conceyued in synne Receyued in conscyence thus complanynge He fell dowue flatte with delefull dynne And sayd lorde mercy souerayne kynge I moost vnkynde wretche of man kynne I knowe I am thy traytour vntrue in my lyuynge This wycked lyfe that I lyue in I may it nought hyde frome thy knowynge I want wordes and also wytte Of thy kyndnesse to speke a cause That I haue thou gaue me it Of thy goodnes withouten cause Though I haue greued the and do yet Thy benefaytes thou nought withdrawse I haue deserued to haue hell pytte So haue I lyued ayenst thy lawse But lorde thou knowest mannes feblenesse How frayle it is and hath ben aye For thought the soule haue thy lykenesse Man is but fulsome erthe and clayne In synne conceyued and wretchednesse And to the soule rebell alwaye Fyrst a man groweth as dooth gresse And he wasteth after as floures or haye Syth man is than so frayle a thynge And thy power so grete in kynde This worlde is but a twynkelynge Thou mayst destroye the myght of the fende With thy ryght lordemercy mynge And to my sore salue thou sende Sore merepenteth of my myslyuynge Mercy lorde I wyll amende Man yf thou amendes wylte make Gyue thyn almesse of thyn owne goodes And se thou werkes no man to wrake To venge ony other mennes modes If thou vntruly from ony take And therwith fynde forty theyr fodes Suche sacrefyce I forsake They be to me as soure as worme wode The poore people thou doo oppresse With sleyghtes and wyles many one Thou makest chyrches and do synge messe Thou mendest wayes where men ouer gone And some men curse and some men blesse Whiche shall I here of these two I thou wylte haue grace as I gesse Let all falsnes be fledde the fro The mothes that thy clothes ete And thou lettest poore men go bare Thy drynke soureth and mouleth thy mete Wherwith the poore man myght well fare The rust that thy syluer dooth frete Thy goodes that euyll goten are They crye on the vengeaunce grete The for to spyll but yet I spare With hodest here ayenst the ryght Frome thy seruauntes vpon the crye Man oftentymes thou hast me hygth Thou wolde amende and leue foly Thou spekest full fayre bothe daye nyght Thou brekest my cōmaūdemētes cōtynually yet is me lothe with the to fyght But make amendes or that thou dye Swete lorde I may not agaynst saye I haue not holden that I the hyght I greue the gretely euery daye I do not as I had the plyght In wolde do well but welawaye With enemyes I am euer beset Whan my soule fayne wolde the paye My flesshe is fyrst that wyll me let And euer the fader that I it fede Euer the fressher it is my foo yet bere it aboute I must nede Full feble it is it wyll me sloo The worlde / the fende / the flesshe they bede Some with well and some with woo What may I do with a wycked wede To fyght ayenst thre enemyes soo Whan I enforce me other whyles And thynke I wyll lyue a true lyue And forsake all batayles and gyles The worlde byddeth me batayle belyue And but I wyll vse wrethes and wyles The comym voyce is I shall not tryue Some me scorneth and at me smyles And counte me but a kynde caytyue But now I thynke withstondynge this To forsake falsnes withouten ende And restore that I toke amys And paye my dettes fayre and hende And to rewarde eche man his As reason is than wyll I spende And gyue myn almesse there nede is Mercy Ihesu I wyll amende Man I haue sente the kyndly syght And vndestandynge skyll and wytte To rule thy selfe by reason ryght As reherseth holy wrytte That clerely sheweth the godly lyght How thou sholde deedly synne forsake And on that maner thou please me myght What ayleth the thus fro me to shake Worlde rychesse ryall repayre In welth and thynges of Iolyte Fysshes / beestes / and byrdes of the ayre These thynketh me semely for to se That thynge that peryssheth dooth appayre Vnto thy syght thus pleasynge be Well mayst thou wytte I am full fayre Of whome eche thynge hath this beaute But man as thou wytlesse were Thou lokest aye downwarde as a beest It behoueth the of me to here Foule spekynge is to the a feest I comforte the I make the chere And thou in wardly louest me leest I call the to me yere by yere Thou wylte not come at my reqest As fro thy foo thou fro me feles I folowe the fast and on the crye Thou wrappest the with all vanytes And thynke my speche to the but folye And a thynge that noutght is thou wylte lese My Ioye that lasteth endleslye Man yet vyce leue and vertue chese And make amendes or that thou dye Swete Ihesu none answere I can But ofte crye mercy with herte stable Alas for woo why is a man Worse than a beest vnreasonable All beestes sytheathe worlde began In kyndely werkynge ben durable Saue onely I of wyll wan That do full many dedes dampnable I was made to knowe my maker And to loue hym ouer all thynge And I a sleper and neuer waker To take kynde knowynge of my kynge To tryfles haue I ben a grete hede taker A songe of sorowe maye I synge For had I ben of synne a forsaker Of cryste sholde I haue had some knowynge My ghoostly eyen ben full of luste Cursed couetyse hath blynded me They ben blode shotten with fleshely