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conscience_n heaven_n hell_n worm_n 1,015 5 11.0094 5 false
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A53293 Remains of Mr. John Oldham in verse and prose Oldham, John, 1653-1683. 1687 (1687) Wing O241; ESTC R32250 39,596 144

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has a Life beyond it and the Grave and something in it prompts me to believe its immortality A Residence it must have somewhere else when it has left this Carcase and another State to pass into unchangeable and everlasting as it self after its Separation This Condition must be good or bad according to its Actions and Deserts in this Life for as it owes its Being to some Infinite Power that created it I well suppose it his Vassal and oblig'd to live by his Law and as certainly conclude that according to the keeping or breaking of that Law 't is to be rewarded or punish'd hereafter This Diversity of Rewards and Punishments makes the two Places Heaven and Hell so often mention'd in Scripture and talked of in Pulpits Of the later my Fears too cruelly convince me and the Anticipation of its Torment which I already feel in my own Conscience There is there is a Hell and damned Fiends and a never-dying Worm and that Sceptick that doubts of it may find 'em all within my single Breast I dare not any longer with the Atheist disbelieve them or think 'em the Clergy's Bugbears invented as Nurses do frightful Names for their Children to scare 'em into Quietness and Obedience How oft have I triumph'd in my unconcern'd and sear'd insensibility How oft boasted of that unhappy suspected Calm which like that of the dead Sea prov'd only my Curse and a treacherous Ambush to those Storms which at present and will for ever I dread shipwreck my Quiet and Hopes How oft have I rejected the Advice of that Bosom-Friend and drowned its Alarms in the Noise of a tumultuous Debauch or by stupifying Wine like some condemn'd Malefactor arm'd my self against the Apprehensions of my certain Doom Now now the Tyrant awakes and comes to pay at once all Arrears of Cruelty At last but too late like drowning Mariners I see the gay Monsters which inveigled me into my Death and Destruction Oh the gnawing Remorse of a rash unguarded unconsidering Sinner Oh how the Ghosts of former Crimes affright my haunted Imagination and make me suffer a thousand Racks and Martyrdoms I see methinks the Jaws of Destruction gaping wide to swallow me and I like one sliding on Ice tho I see the Danger cannot stop from running into it My Fancy represents to me a whole Legion of Devils ready to tear me in pieces numberless as my Sins or Fears and whither Alas whither shall I fly for Refuge Where shall I retreat and take Sanctuary Shall I call the Rocks and Mountains to cover me or bid the Earth yawn wide to its Centre and take me in Poor shift of escaping Almighty Justice Distracting Frenzy that would make me believe Contradictions and hope to fly out of the reach of him whose Presence is every where not excluded Hell it self for he is there in the effects of his Vengeance Shall I invoke some Power infinite as that that created me to reduce me to nothing again and rid me at once of my Being and all that tortures it Oh no 't is in vain I must be forced into Being to keep me fresh for Torment and retain Sense only to feel Pain I must be adying to all Eternity and live ever to live ever wretched Oh that Nature had placed me in the Rank of things that have only a bare Existence or at best an Animal Life and never given me a Soul and Reason which now must contribute to my Misery and make me envy Brutes and Vegetables Would the Womb that bare me had been my Prison till now or I stept out of 't it into my Grave and saved the Expences and Toil of a long and tedious Journey where Life affords nothing of Accommodations to invite ones stay Happy had I been if I had expired with my first Breath and enter'd the Bill of Mortality as soon as the World Happy if I had been drowned in my Font and that Water which was to Regenerate and give me New Life had prov'd Mortal in another Sense I had then died without any Guilt of my own but what I brought into the World with me and that too atton'd for I mean that which I contracted from my first Parents my unhappiness rather than Fault inasmuch as I was fain to be born of a Sinning Race Then I had never enhaunc'd it with acquired Guilt never added those innumerable Crimes which must make up my Indictment at the Grand Audit. Ungrateful Wretch I 've made my Sins as numerous as those Blessings and Mercies the Almighty Bounty has conferr'd upon me to oblige and lead me to Repentance How have I abused and misimployed those Parts and Talents which might have render'd me serviceable to Mankind and repaid an Interest of Glory to their Donor How ill do they turn to account which I have made the Patrons of Debauchery and Pimps and Panders to Vice How oft have I broke my Vows to my Great Creator which I would be conscientious of keeping to a silly Woman a Creature beneath my self What has all my Religion been but an empty Parade and Shew Either an useful Hypocrisie taken up for Interest or a gay specious Formality worn in Complaisance to Custom and the Mode and as changeable as my Cloaths and their Fashion How oft have I gone to Church the place where we are to pay him Homage and Duty as to an Assignation or Play only for Diversion or at best as I must ere long for ought I know with my Soul sever'd from my Body How I tremble at the Remembrance as if I could put the Sham upon Heaven or a God were to be imposed on like my Fellow-Creature And dare I convicted of these High Treasons against the King of Glory dare I expect a Reprieve or Pardon Has he Thunder and are not all his Bolts levell'd at my Head to strike me through the very Centre Yes I dare appeal to thee boundless Pity and Compassion My own Instances already tells me that thy Mercy is infinite for I 've done enough to shock Long-sufferance it self and weary out an Eternal Patience I beseech thee by thy soft and gentle Attributes of Mercy and Forgiveness by the last dying Accents of my suffering Deity have Pity on a poor humble prostrate and confessing Sinner And thou great Ransom of lost Mankind who offered'st thy self a Sacrifice to attone our Guilt and redeem our mortgag'd Happiness do thou be my Advocate and intercede for me with the Angry Judge My Pray'rs are heard a glorious Light now shone And lo An Angel-Post comes hast'ning down From Heav'n I see him cut the yielding Air So swift he seems at once both there and here So quick my sight in the pursuit was slow And Thought could scarce so soon the Journey go No angry Message in his Look appears His Face no signs of threatning Vengeance wears Comely his shape of Heavenly Meen and Air Kinder than Smiles of beauteous Virgins are Such he was seen by the blest Maid of old