Selected quad for the lemma: conscience_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
conscience_n	end_n	faith_n	unfeigned_a	1,201	5	10.8215	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A32308	Divine passions piously and pathetically expressed in three severall bookes / written and composed for private consolation ... by Edward Calver.	Calver, Edward, fl. 1649.	1643 (1643)	Wing C313; ESTC R28545	68,451	138

for faith now do meer fancie find Oyle and wine powred in THe slighting faith we must a fault confesse But if it be through ignorance the lesse God winks at times of darknesse though indeed We are not thereby absolutely free'd But when the glorious Sun-shine doth apear What can excuse us if we see not cleer No just excuse can here excusing be And yet the Sun we often clouded see So though our Sun hath chas'd our night away Yet we have cloudes still to obscure our day Our cloud of folly makes our faith retire Yet find we smoke though it do argue fire The Authors Epigram THree clouds on mankind do like mists benight And keep some blinded in the very light First ignorance then carelesnesse the third Is obstinatly to reject the word The first is most excusable of all The second binding to a harder thrall The third exceeds all and is sinfull most If not the sin against the holy Ghost Where meanes is wanting saving faith to find We must not judge there though they yet be blind For God elects and then doth faith foresee Else how could fooles and infants saved be Againe some loyter while they have the day And yet ere night do labour and have pay But such as in the vineyard being pray'd Will never labour shall be never paid The conscience wounded with sin BUt wretched I what can I doe herein How can I labour I am dead in sin Can dead men work I hear indeed the call But can but hear it cannot work at all No worke but dead works God doth such despise He doth delight a living sacrifice I doe confesse I faine would work indeed Fain would believe I fain would learn that creed But oh my sins my sins are in the way My sins doe still my confidence betray I faine would faith unto my selfe assume But sin prevents me tells me I presume Oyle and wine powred in FAith is t is true the gift of God we read God doth both worke the will and eke the deed Faith in this nature is an easie taske We can doe nothing for the same but aske The only labour now impos'd on man Is to discerne and cherish faith began Is faith Gods gift then let us beat up still He can bestow that dowry when he will Nay faith already may infused be Though scarce discerned in a small degree Then though we build not Castles in the ayre Yet we of all things are not to despair The Authors Epigram AS faith doth point at things yet unreveal'd So faith it selfe lyes in it selfe conceal'd And may be long time in the heart no doubt Before we truly finde that sewell out Besides our sins doe much obscure that light And cast a mist before our feeble sight Yea every sin when faith would else aspire Doth helpe to keep down if not quench that fire Sin is indeed faiths enemy profest And the more sin the more is faith supprest But when that faith doth once by force command Sin then doth yeeld faith gets the upper hand Faith for a time may as it were obey But in the end faith alwaies gets the day And as faith prospers by degrees gets strength So sin growes feeble pines and dyes at length Conscience wounded with sin BUt must sin dye and by degrees surcease Where faith doth live as faith doth force increase Oh wretched creature I how shall I do then I feel alas no death but life of sin Sin strives as much as ever heretofore Or rather strugles in my bosome more I doe confesse I feel my soule distrest And faine would feel fin in my soule supprest But when I labour to restrain the same It growes inraged is the worse to tame Oh sad condition oh my soule sincks here Are there no other signs of faith appear Oyle and wine powred in NO signes but such and yet soule sinck not though Sin must be kill'd but dyes not at one blow Sin in our natures will us battell give Though dying whiles we doe in nature live But sin is mostly sure most wounded when It flies on conscience most tormenteth men Are then our conscience through our sins unquiet Sin then and faith sure are in us at sight If sin within us no resistance found Sin in our conscience would delight not wound And thus by signes we secret faith may see Which without signes cannot discerned be The Authors Epigram FAith is indeed our tree of life below Which tree we only by the fruit can know Would we know then if we have faith or no The root lies hid we to the fruit must goe The fruits are feeling first sins wounding dart Next a compunction in the wounded heart From whence proceeds a diligence with speed To get a balsome for these wounds that bleed The other fruits that fruitfull faith doth beare Are ever after to be arm'd with care With zeale and wisdome to resist that foe Who at advantage had deluded so From whence proceeds a hatred unto sin Desire of vertue and delight therein All mens endeavouring that my aid supply To make faith lively and make sin to dye The Conscience wounded with sin OH blessed faith art thou the root indeed Oh would I could with blessed Job then read Thee grounded in me springs doe testifie Though through high mountains that they have supply The fountaine will be falling and the root It will be rising forth will branches shoot I feele indeed some drops of vertue flow And beare some leaves too which doe make a show But oh my conscience cannot so be quiet Such signes are frequent in the hypocrite But sin dissembled under grace is worst The tree which beares but only leaves is curst Oyle and wine powred in FAith is the fountaine whence all graces flow Faith is the root whereon those branches grow And faith gives life though it may lye as hid To all our actions or they else are dead For Christ in whom all fulnesse doth excell If we have faith by faith doth in us dwell Whether our actions though be leaves or fruit None but our conscience truly can dispute Whether the action from the heart proceeds None but the conscience that rare language reads But when the conscience hath true knowledge gain'd That then is fruit which conscience finds unfain'd The Authors Epigram MIsguided mankinde whither have we gone To set up merit in our makers Throne Faith is in Christ and Christ in faith why then Disdaine we faith adore the works of men Sin is the old man wretched and for lorne Begot in Adam in our natures borne Christ is the new Man by a second birth Through faith conceived and by grace brought forth Grace flowes from faith and faith in Christ began Both those united make but one new man And then most blest and not till then we are When in our soules we feele this infant stir Would we then prove this new man to be ours We sure must prove it by renewing powers We must be new