Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	woe_n	wretch_n	wretched_a	13	3	7.9405	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A44939	Pia desideria, or, Divine addresses in three books : illustrated with XLVII copper-plates / written in Latine by Herm. Hugo ; Englished by Edm. Arwaker.; Pia desideria. English	Hugo, Herman, 1588-1629.; Arwaker, Edmund, d. 1730.; Sturt, John, 1658-1730.	1686 (1686)	Wing H3350; ESTC R19094	62,987	283

closely each other trace And meet the Sun along his annual race While the swift hours are pressing forward still And once gone by are irretrievable Thus envious Time loves on it self to prey And still thro its own Entrails eats its way So wasting Lamps by their own flames expire And kindle at themselves their Fun'ral Fire Thus it s own course the circling Year pursues Till like the Wheels on which 't is mov'd it grows This Truth the Poets weightily exprest When they made Saturn on his Off-spring feast For Time on Months and Years its Children feeds And kills with motion what its motion breeds Hours waste their Days the Days their Months consume And the rapacious Months their Years entomb Thus Years Months Days and Hours still keep their round Till all in vast Eternity are drown'd Then Lord allow my grief some little space To mourn the shortness of my hasty race I wish not time for laughter if I did My circumstances and the place forbid All I desire is time for grief and tears Let that be all th' addition to my years Which tho but short have yet been full of sin More than my time was to repent it in Yet if thou grant'st me some few minutes more They 'll make amends for my short days before Drop then my eyes you cannot flow too fast While you delay what precious time is lost 'T is done my tears have a prevailing force And Heav'n's appeas'd now stop their eager course Hieron ad Paulam Epist 21. ●hen man first sinn'd he chang'd Eternity for Mortality Ninety years or thereabouts But sin increasing by degrees Mans life was contracted to a very short space XIV Oh! that they were wise that they understood this that they would consider their latter end Deut. 32. 29. XIV Oh! that they were wise that they understood this that they would consider their latter-end Deut. 32. 29. SHame on besotted man whose baffled mind Is to all dangers but the present blind Whose thoughts are all imploy'd on mischiefs near But ills remote never fore-see or fear The Soldier is prepar'd before th'allarm The Signal giv'n 't wou'd be too late to arm The Pylot's fore-sight waits each distant blast And loses no advantage in his haste Th' industrious Hind manures and sows the Field Which he expects a plenteous Crop should yield The lab'ring Ant in Summer stores at home Provision against Age and Winter come But oh what means Mans stupid negligence That of the future has no care or sense Does he expect Eternity below A life that shall no alteration know He 's much abus'd inevitable Death Tho it delays will one day stop his breath Vain are the hopes the firmest Leagues produce The Tyrant keeps no Faith regards no Truce He does not to the Peace he makes incline To take advantage is his whole design To him Alliance is an empty name He does all Int'rests but his own disclaim Fiercely the greedy spoiler strikes at all A prey for his insatiate Jaws too small He tears ev'n tender Infants from the breast And wraps them in a Shrowd ere for the Cradle dr● Nor Sex nor Age the grim Destroyer spares Unmov'd alike by Innocence as Years Like common Soldiers chief Commanders die And like Commanders common Soldiers lie No shining Dust appears in Craesus Urn Tho all he touch'd he seem'd to Gold to turn ●or boasts fair Rachel's face that Beauty here ●or which the Patriarch serv'd his twice-sev'n year ●nd never thought the pleasing Purchase dear Ev'n Dives here from Laz'rus is not known For now One's Purple th' Other's Rags are gone Each has no Mansion but his narrow Cell Equal in colour and alike in smell Why then shou'd man of such vain Treasure boast So difficultly gain'd so eas'ly lost For late or early all resign their breath And bend pale Victims to their Conqu'ror Death Each Sex each Age Profession and Degree Moves tow'rds this Centre of Humanity But did they not a farther Journey go And that to die were all they had to do Cou'd but their Souls dissolve as fast away As their corrupting Carcasses decay They'd covet Death to end their present cares And for prevention of their future fears They'd to the Grave as an Asylum run And court the stroke which now they wish to shu● But Death alas ends not their miseries The Soul 's immortal tho the Body dies Which soon as from it s Pris'n of Clay enlarg'd At Heav'ns Tribunal's sentenc'd or discharg'd Before an awful Pow'r just and severe Round whose bright head consuming flames appear The shackl'd Captive dazl'd at his sight Dejected stands and trembles with the fright While with strict scrutiny the God surveys Its heart and close impieties displays The wretch convicted does its guilt confess Nor hopes for mercy for concealment less While He th' Accuser Judge and Witness too Damns it to an Eternity of woe Where since no hope of an Appeal appears ' Twou'd fain dissolve and drown it self in tears What terrors then seize the forsaken Soul That finds no Patron for a Cause so foul ●hen it implores some Mountain to prevent ●y a kind crush its shame and punishment O wretched Soul just Judge hard Sentence too ●hat hardn'd wretch dares sin that thinks on You ●et here alas ends not the fatal grief ●here is another Death another Life Life as boundless as Eternity Death whence shall no Resurrection be ●hat Hell of Torments shall in This be found ●ith what a Heav'n of Joys shall That abound ●hat fill'd with Musick of th' Angelick Choir ●hall the blest Souls with Extasie inspire ●hile This disturb'd at ev'ry hideous yell ●hall in the Damn'd raise a new dread of Hell ●hat knows no sharp excess of cold or heat ● This the wretches always freeze or sweat ●here reign Eternal Rest and soft Repose ●ere painful toil no end or measure knows ●hat void of grief does nought afflictive see ●his still disturb'd from trouble's never free O happy Life O vast unequall'd Bliss O Death accurs'd O endless Miseries Either to That or This we daily bend All our endeavours have no other end Be wise then Man nor let thy care be vain To shun the Mis'ry and the Bliss obtain Give Heav'n thy Heart if thou its Crown wou'd● gain Aug. Soliloq cap. 3. What more lamentable and more dreadful can be thought of than that terrible Sentence Go what more delightful than that pleasing Invitation Come They are two words of which nothing can be heard more affrighting than the One nothing more rejoycing than the Other My life is waxen old with heaviness and my years with mourning Psal. 31. 11 XV. My life is waxen old with heaviness and my years with mourning Psal 31. 11. WHat lowring Star rul'd my unhappy Birth And banish'd thence all days of ease and mirth ●hile expectation does delude my mind ●eas'd with vain hope some smiling hour to find ●t still that smiling hour forbears to come ●d sends a row of Mourners

quickly end The King to frowns does all his smiles convert And as he lov'd so hates without desert His favour sowr's to rage and I am sent Far from my Native Soil to Banishment My fall to Hist'ry adds one story more A story I for ever must deplore Sejanus had not a severer fate Nor Clytus happiness a shorter date O God! how great is their security Whose hopes and wishes all rely on thee Aug. in Psal 36. Forsake all other Loves he is fairer who created Heaven and Earth I sate down under his shadow whom I loved with great delight Cant. 2. 3. XIV I sate down under his shadow whom I loved with great delight Cant. 2. 3. IN a long journey to an unknown Clime Much ground I travel●'d consum'd much time Till weary grown computing in my mind ● thought the shortest of my way behind But when I better had survey'd the race ● found there still remain'd the longer space Then my faint limbs grew feeble with despair Discourag'd at a journey so severe With hands and eyes erect I vent my grief To Heav'n in hope from Heav'n to find relief Oh! who will shade me from this scorching heat ●ee on my head how the fierce Sun-beams beat ●hile by their servor parch'd the burning Sand ●calds my gall'd feet and forces me to stand Then then I praise the Groves and shady Bow'rs Blest with cool Springs and sweet refreshing Flow'rs Then wish th'expanded Poplar wou'd o'respread Or leafy Apple shade my weary head The God whose aid I oft' had sought before As often found now adds this favour more Whither your hast designs says he I know Know what you want and how you want it too I know you seek Jerusalem above Thither your life and your endeavours move But with the tedious Pilgrimage dismay'd Implore refreshment from the Apple's shade See see I come to bring your pains relief Beneath my shadow ease your weary grief Behold my arms stretch'd on the fatal Tree With these extended boughs I 'll cover thee Behold my bleeding feet my gaping side In these free Coverts thou thy self maist hide This shade will grant thee thy desir'd repose This Tree alone for that kind purpose grows Thus spoke the God whose favour thus exprest With strength inspir'd my limbs with hope my breast I rais'd my eyes and there my Love I spy'd But oh my Love my Love was crucify'd What dreadful Scene is this alas I cry'd Must I beneath this dismal shade abide What comfort can it yield to wretched me While Thou art hung on this accursed Tree Curs'd Tree and more curs'd hand by which 't was set The bloody stains are reeking on it yet Yet this high Tree projects its spreading boughs And with its cooling shade invites repose Yet what it offers still it self denies And more to tears than slecp inclines my eyes Blest Tree and happy hand that fix'd thee here That hand deserves the honor of a Star Now now my Love I thy resemblance know My cool kind shady residence below As the large Apple spreads its loaden boughs From whose rare Fruit a pleasing Liquor flows And more than all its fellows of the Wood Allows the weary rest the hungry food Thus thou art Lord my Covert in the heat My Drink when thirsty and when hungry Meat How oft' my Love how oft' with earnest pray'r Have I invok'd thy shade to rest me there There pensive I 'll bewail my wretched state Like a sad Turtle widow'd of her Mate I 'll bath thy pale dead lips in a warm flood And from thy locks I 'll wash the clotted blood Thy hanging head my hands shall gently raise And to my cheek I 'll lay thy gory face Thy wounded side with watry eyes I 'll view And as thy blood my tears shall ever flow Flow till my sight by their kind flood reliev'd With the sad object be no longer griev'd Yet this one wound in me will many make Till prostrate at thy feet my place I take Then I 'll embrace again the fatal Tree And write this sad Inscription under thee Two Lovers see who their own death conspire ●●e drowns in Tears while He consumes in Fire Honorius in cap. 2. Cant. apud Delr ● shadow is made of a body and light and is the traveller's covert from the heat his protection from the storm The Tree of Life to wit the Apple is the holy Cross its Fruit is Christ its shadow the refreshment and defence of mankind How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange Land Psal. 137. 4. XV. How shall we sing the Lord's Song in a strange Land Psal 137. 4. OH why my Friends am I desir'd to sing How can I raise a note or touch a string ●lusick requires a Soul to mirth inclin'd ●nd sympathizes with the troubled mind But you reply Such seasons most require ●he kind diversion of the warbling Lyre When grief wou'd strike you dumb 't is time to s●ng ●hen strain the voice strike the trembling string ●or then the mind o'rewhelm'd in sorrow lies ●oo much intent on its own miseries You urge this remedy will grief asswage ●nd with examples prove what you alledge You say This tunes the weary Sailors note While o're long Seas their nimble Vessels float You say This makes the artful Shepherd play Whose tuneful Pipes the tedious hours betray And that the Trav'ller's journey easi'st proves When to the Musick of his voice he moves I 'll not perversly blame this art in them Nor the offensive policy condemn But know my tongue long practis'd in complaint Is skill'd in grief in lamentations quaint Scarce my lost skill cou'd I to practice bring And Musick seem'd a strange unusual thing And as one blinded long scarce brooks the light So pleasing Ayres my uncouth tongue affright When I my slighted Numbers wou'd retrieve And make the speaking Chords appear to live When I wou'd raise the murmuring Viols voice Or make the Lute in brisker sounds rejoyce When on my Pipes attempt a shriller note Or joyn my Harp in consort with my Throat My Voice alas in floods of tears is drown'd And boistrous sighs disperse the fainting sound Again to sing again to play I try'd Again my voice again my hand deny'd Now by disuse slow and unactive made My hand and tongue t' Oblivion are betray'd And now with these allays I try too late To molifie my hard my rigid fate Grant I excell'd in Musick and in Song And warbled swift Division with my tongue Cou'd I with Israel's sweetest Singer vie Or strike the Harp with more success than He Will Musick or Complaint best suit my woe Who never had more cause to weep than now ●ut sorrow has my tuneful Harp unstrung ●nd grief 's become habitual to my tongue ●or do the place or time such mirth allow ●ut grant they did my sorrows answer no. ●hat wou'd you have an exil'd Stanger sing ●is Countrey Anthems to a Foreign King ●orbear my fate and this

loath'd place conspire ●o silence me and hinder your desire ●hall I driv'n far from the Seraphick Choir ●ouch the sweet Nerves of my Caelestial Lire Ah! Fortunes wounded Captive kindly spare My voice has lost its pleasing accents here Sorrow disorders and distorts my face I cannot give my Songs their former grace Shou'd I begin to sing or play 't wou'd be Some doleful Emblem of my misery My thoughts are all on my lost srate intent And close Companions of my Banishment Then why am I desir'd to play or sing Now grief has broke my voice and slackned ev'r● string Oh! my lov'd Countrey when I think on thee My Lute my Voice my Mind all lose their harmon● But if to Thee I happily return Then they shall all rejoyce as much as now th● mo●● Aug. Medit. cap. 35. ● that I could say such things as the Hymn-singing Choir of Angels How willingly would I powr forth my self in thy praises I charge you O Daughters of Ierusalem if you find my Beloved that you tell him that I am sick of Love Cant. 5. 8. EXTASIES OF THE Enamour'd Soul BOOK the Third I. I charge you O Daughters of Jerusalem if you find my Beloved that you tell him that I am sick of Love Cant. 5. 8. BLest Residents on the bright Thrones above Who are transform'd to the sublimest Love To my Belov'd my restless Passion bear And gently whisper 't in his sacred ear To him my sighs my languishments relate Tell him my flame dissolves me with its heat Tell him I pine beneath Loves torrid Zone As withering Flow'rs before the scorching Sun For scattering round his Darts among the rest He shot himself into my love-sick breast Thro all my flesh the Shaft like Lightning stole And with strange infl'ence seiz'd my melting So● Now in a flame unquenchable I burn Which does my breast t'another Aetna turn If a more full account he wou'd receive For Lovers always are inquisitive Tell him how pale how languishing I look And how I fainted when I wou'd have spoke If he enquires what pace my Feaver moves Oh! tell him I no Feaver feel but Love's Or if he asks what danger 's of my death Tell him I cou'd not tell for want of breath Tell him you bring no message sent by me But a relation of my misery Yet if he questions how in death I look Say how my Beauty has my face forsook Thus then delineate me amidst my woe That he my suff'rings and their cause may know Tell him I lie seiz'd with a deadly swoon A bloodless Corps stretch'd on the naked ground Tell him my eyes swim round my dizzy head And on my breast my feeble hand is laid The Corral of my Lips grows sickly pale And on my Cheeks the withering Roses fail My Veins tho chaf'd have lost their azure hue And this decay shews Nature failing too Nor any signs express remaining life But the worst symptoms sighs that vent my grief And yet I cannot any reason feign Why tho unhurt so often I complain I know not why unless the Tyrant Love Compels me thus his mighty Pow'r to prove This this was sure my sorrows only cause I lov'd yet knew not what a Lover was This from my breast extorted frequent fighs Ad prest the tears from my o'reflowing eyes This was the cause that when I strove to frame Remote discourse it ended with his Name Oh! then Tell the lov'd Object of my thought and eye How I his Martyr and his Victim die Distill'd in Loves Alimbeck I expire Parch'd up like Roses by too warm a fire Or dry'd like Lillies which have long in vain Begg'd the refreshment of a gentle Rain Tell Him the cause of all my grief will prove Without his help my Death for oh 't is LOV● Rupert in Cant. Tell him That I am sick of Love thro the great desire I have of seeing his face I endure the weariness of life and I can hardly bear the delay of my present Exile Stay me with flagons comfort me with apples for I am sick of Love Cant 2. 5. II. Stay me with flagons comfort me with apples for I am sick of love Cant. 2. 5. HOw strangely Love dost thou my will controul Thou pleasing Tyrant of my captiv'd Soul Oh! wou'dst thou have thy fiery torment last Slacken its heat for I consume too fast On other hearts imply thy Arrows pow'r For mine alas has now no room for more O spare thy own Artill'ry and my breath For the next shaft comes wing'd with certain Death Oh! I am lost and from my self estrang'd To Love my voice to Love my blood is chang'd From part to part insensibly he stole Till the sly Conqu'ror had subdu'd the whole Alas will no one pity my distress Will neither Earth nor Heav'n afford redress Canst Thou the author of my miseries Canst Thou behold me with relentless eyes Oh! haste you bright Inhabitants above My fellow-patients in this charming Love Rifle the Orchards and disrobe the Fields Bring all the Treasure Natures Store-house yields Bind fragrant Rose-buds to my temples first Then with cool apples quench my fiery thirst These may allay the Feaver of my blood Oh no! there 's nothing nothing does me good Against Loves force what Salve can Roses make Since ev'n themselves may hide the pois'nous Snake And Apples sure can small assistance give In one of them th' Old Serpent did deceive O then to slacken this tormenting fire The Rose of Sharon only I desire And for an Apple to asswage my grief Give it oh give it from the Tree of Life Then strow them gently on my Virgin-bed And as the withering Rose declines its head Compos'd to Death's long sleep my rest I 'll take Dream of my Love and in his arms awake Gislen in Cant. cap. 2. ●t is certainly a good languishment when the Disease is not to Death but Life that God may be glorified by it when that Heat and Feaver does not proceed from a consuming but rather from an improving fire My Beloved is mine and I am his he feedeth among the Lillies Cant. 2. 16. III. ●y Beloved is mine and I am his he feedeth among the Lillies Cant. 2. 16. BLest souls whose hearts burn with such equal fire As never but together will expire ●o your content I wou'd not Crowns prefer ●or all Heav'ns blessings are dilated there ●nd when with equal flames two Souls engage ●hat happy minute is Love's Golden age ●uch bliss I wish'd when Love at first possest ●nd rais'd his Standard in my trembling breast ●ow oft' I pray'd Whene're in Love I burn Grant me great Pow'r to find a just return The God return'd this answer to my pray'r ●ove first that Love its breaches may repair ● it thy will Almighty Love I cry'd ●'inlist a Soldier in thy Wars untry'd 'T is true my fellow-Maids have told me long The promis'd Joys of thy adoring throng But oft' my Nurse acquainted with the cheat Told me 't was all