Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	love_n	love_v	soul_n	2,542	5	5.7443	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A91574	Solomons recantation, entituled Ecclesiastes, paraphrased. With a soliloquie or meditation upon every chapter. / By Francis Quarles. Opus posthumum. Never before printed. With a short relation of his life and death.	Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644.; Quarles, Ursula, b. 1601.	1645 (1645)	Wing Q116; Thomason E284_13; ESTC R200060	37,689	73

when the season brings A flash of Good doth all things so unframe That earths content doth scarce deserve the name Of common happinesse which like the winde Varies still meeting with a various minde Vnconstant earth what can thy treasure show That is not like thy self unconstant too How full of Change How full of Alteration Nay fixt in nothing but thy meer foundation And like thy self our naturall parent wee Constant in nothing but in loving thee Vers 4 One while we plunge in teares and by and by We rage in laughter yet not knowing why To day the zeal of our affection 's such Vers 8 We burn in love tomorrow hate as much Sometimes we fear not when our ev'lls appear Sometimes affrighted at no Cause of fear One while we should and will not will and should not Nay at the selfe-same moment would and would not Vers 4 Today we feast and quaffe in frolique Bowles To morrow fast and pinch our guilty Soules Row Musick now a Knell salutes our ears At noon we swim in wine at night in tears Ore night our vowes are made our joy concluded To day the danger 's past and heav'n deluded The last six Months our fortune swell'd with store And now they break was never Job so poor Verse 8 Time was that peace enricht our joyfull Land Time is our martiall drum beats warre at hand Vnconstant earth O is it not enough Thy days are ev'll at best and but a puffe At longest At the fruitfullest but vain But sad at merryest and at sweetest pain Is not all this enough enough to make The miserable childe of man forsake The false protection of thy magick eye Without th' addition of inconstancy Is' t not enough that we poor Farmers pay Quit-rent to Nature at the very day And at our dying howre bequeath to thee Our whole subsistence for a Legacie But thou must leave our frailties as a prey To time-born Change that will permit no stay In one estate nor give us leave to lye Sad Patients in a quiet misery O but my soule why dost thou thus contend With thy Creators pleasure Cease to spend This needlesse breath Shall thy disorder'd will Confront his Providence or call that ill Which he thinks good Tell me my soule shall hee That gave thee being be prescrib'd by thee Hee made thee for his glory not to spend Thy days in slavish labour nor to end Thy painfull travell in the shades of death But thou hast tainted that immortall breath Which qualifi'd thy life and made thee free Of heav'n and earth and a joynt Patentee With smooth-fac'd Cherubims And too too proud Of thy short honor warpt thy thoughts and bow'd Thy straight desiers to unknowne delight And wrapt thy glory in the clouds of night Lost thy freewill to good didst overthrow Thy perfect knowledge with desire to know Bereft of wisdome labr'ing to be wise Vers 19 Now peer'd with beasts that only works and dyes Both borne to sorrow breathe the selfe same breath Live both alike both dye the selfe same death S●nce then my soule thy hopes may not aspire To what thou wouldst suit thy supprest desire To what thou mayst and let thy wisdome play Bad Cards with best advantage what the day Brings in by Travell let the frolique night Vers 22 Consume in Mirth and spend in full Delight Take thou to day let others take to morrow He earnes the Solace that endures the sorrow CAP. IV. 1 Vanitie is increased unto men by oppression 4. By envy 5. By idlenesse 7. By covetousnesse 9. By solitarinesse 13. By wilfulnesse Vers 1 MY soule return'd and fixt her thoughts upon The hard oppressions made beneath the Sunne And loe the teares of captives in distresse Cry'd loud for Comfort yet were comfortlesse Great was th'oppressors power yet the griefe Of the opprest was void of all reliefe Vers 2 O then I counted their condition blest Whom death had lull'd in everlasting rest Yea farre more blest then those that live to stand Afflicted patients at th'oppressors hand Vers 3 Nay farre then both are they more blessed whom Conception never hansell'd in the womb Or those Abortives whom untimely birth Excus'd from all the sorrowes of the earth Vers 4 Imus'd againe and found when paines had crackt The harder shell to some Heroick act Pale envy strikes the kernell with taxation O this is vanity and soules vexation Vers 5 The sluggish fool that solitary stands With yauning lips and bosome-folded hands Consumes his empty dayes at last is fed With his own flesh that would not move for bread Vers 6 His idle tongue thus pleading for his sloth Better one hand be fill'd with rest then both Stretch'd forth in travell to prepare full diet With hearts vexation and the foules disquiet Vers 7 Thus pausing Contenplation shew'd mine eye A new prospect of humane vanity Vers 8 There is a lonely man that hath none other To foster then himselfe nor child nor brother Whose droyling hands thinke nothing can supply The greedy wants of his insatiate eye He robs himselfe nor knows for whose reliefe This is a vanity and wounding griefe Vers 9 The single state of him that lives alone Is double griefe Two better is then One For two can share the sorrows that befall To one One's worse then not to beat all Vers 10 If eithers drooping shoulders be betray'd To a sad burden there 's a mutuall ayd Woe to the man whom danger meets alone For there 's no arme to help him but his owne Vers 11 When two divide the comforts of a Bed If one gaines kindly warmth the other 's sped But warmth turnes back to him that lyes alone The steele will yeeld no sparkes without the stone Vers 12 If fury from a stronger arme assails One falls before the foe when two prevails But if a third put in a timely stroke The Cord that 's threefold is not quickly broke Verse 13 To be a poore wise child is judg'd a thing More honorable then to be a King That 's old and foolish and whose disposition Checks at advise and spumes at admonition Vers 14 The low and lanke estates are often knowne To clime from Prisons to the princely Throne And glorious Monarchs have been seen to faile And change their glittering Glory for a Gaole Vers 15 So have I seen the vulgar hearts grow cold To with'ring Greatnesse whilest their eyes behold The blooming heyre to whom Affections runne Like morning eyes to greet the rising Sunne Vers 16 Past Ages quench the fathers fading light In the Sons hopes and future dayes benight The Son in his Succeeders expecation O this is vanity and soules vexation SOLILOQUIE IV. MY soule to what a strange disguized Good Art thou bewitch O how hath flesh and Blood Betray'd thee to a happinesse that brings No comfort but from transitory Things How is thy freedome curb'd How art thou clogg'd With dull mortality beslow'd and bogg'd In thine owne frailty How art thou repos'd In