Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	aaron_n	bell_n	hear_v	17	3	5.2946	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A00460	Pietatis lachrymæ. = Teares of deuotion	Evans, William, poet.	1602 (1602)	STC 10597.5; ESTC S105560	13,060	64

kils death that I may liue for euer Mercy sweet Iesu mercy let me win Since now I hate my selfe loath my sin This he no sooner said but I might see A man well seeming Angell-Saint to be Of comely hue of golde his pleated hayres More graue in Wisdoms booke then aged yeares His feete insteed or sandals troade the ayre And windes for wings did this Caelestiall beare His first arriuall was with this sad wight Whose sinfull soule Iustice did so affright To whome such balme for medcine he did giue As dead in sinne by it are rais'd to liue O blessed Lord that in each time of neede Sends comfort from aboue sicke soules to feede Doe not dispaire quoth he thou wofull man Doubt not but he that made all all things can Thinke not that he that breath'd into thee breath Will ought reioyce in thy soules fearefull death No wretched man thy God willes thee to know Sinnes red as scarlet he makes white as snow Seale this O Lord cleare my sinne-spotted-Den Teares beg the warrant Iesu say Amen Nemo renascitur in Christi corpore nisi prius nascatur in peccati corruptione S. August Teares Efficacy and Sinnes pardon Or Mary Magdalens Lachrymae WHen Anna wept the teares ran down amaine From forth the Flud-gates of her watry eyes When Agar wept that water she might gaine Teares sobbes sighes were onely Sacrifice When Susan falsly was condemn'd to dye Her innocent true teares did peirce the skye They had the things that they with teares required Oh who can tell the force of such true teares Wonder of wonders for to be admired Since eyes as keyes doe open mercies eares Neuer came wretch to God with true contrition But did obtaine so it were iust petition Sad humble teare shed by a soule diuine What maist thou not account of as thine owne wilt thou a kingdom why heau'ns kingdom 's thine wilt thou a seate thou hast the Lābes bright throne Wilt thou be stronge let one teare heau'n be sent And it shall doombe all hell to banishment Meate for the soule thou art strength for the sence Guerdon of Vertue Assosiate of Grace The blotter out of vice and great offence The Font that Lauers filth from foulest face The drinke and repast of the penitent Swift billow wafting to amendement Best health of new-returning innocence The Angell foode of reconsiliation Chiefe ioy of an appeased conscience And the stronge hope of soules election The Odour of the ioyes of blisse to come The best companion in the day of doombe Since teares are of such force who wold not weep And weeping weep for sin with teares an Ocean A floud within his heart who would not keep To drench the entrance of each sinfull motion Yes saies my soule Lord of my soule I will Mary that most hath need will weep her fill Close thou thine eyes ô righteous Jeremye Let not thy teares lament the faults of other My sighes my sobs my eyes my Lachrymae Shall wash my soule my soules-sinnes discouer I onely I my selfe my selfe alone Will wash in teares and my huge sinne bemone Michah why weep'st thou said the men of warre Why dost thou vs pursue is not all well Why hast thou strayed from thy home so farre Nay sigh not grieued man but quickelie tell My God quoth he whome I with care did keep Ye 'aue stolne from me and aske ye why I weep Michah with grieued heart doth much lament The losse of his forg'd-fained-golden God And shall not flouds of teares of me be spent For losse of him that was my liues abode Shall Michah waile his losse and shall not I Yes while I liue I le weepe and weeping dye The nimble Hart when he 's beset with Hound Seeing no way te'scape pale greedy death Before he feele the first life-killing wound Weeps out a groane then yeelds ayre his breath And makes the Hūters hart though hard as stone By reason of his sighes his death to moane Shall this milde Hart O Mary full of euils Sigh foorth the farewell of his liues decay And shalt not thou that art beset with Deuils That rent thy soule as rauenous dogs their pray Yes I will weep sigh sob and neuer cease Till heau'n haue mercy and my sinnes release If holy Dauid did so much lament Th' vntimely death of his rebellious Sonne If he vpon the dead corpes these words spent O losse ô Absalon ô Absalon Then needly must I weeping say each houre O losse no losse to my soules Sauiour As was the sound of Aarons siluer bell Whose sweet alarum caus'd each man to heare So Mary let thy griefes sin-weeping knell Rung by the vertue of an harty teare Sound such a lowd and dolefull pleasing ditty That it may mooue thy God thy woes to pitty Few drops men say force hard stones asunder Not by compulsion but by often fall See! stubborne stones to moyst drops yeeld ô wonder And shall not God when teares for mercy call Sinnes teares almost mee thinkes the very name Should be sufficient for to blot my shame O therefore hye thee wretched Magdalen To him that sinne hath power to forgiue Intreate him clense thy foule defyled den Desire to dye to sinne in him to liue Let not thy God from Simons boord be risen Till thou vnto thy God be trulie shriuen As an inraged colde tane in thy brest If it continue prooues but little good So will thy sinne disturber of thy rest If thou to greater sinne dost let sinne bud O therefore take thy time while time thou may For who can tell how swift time glides away Nor be not thou asham'd before them all Of thy vilde sinne to make confession But bend thy knee and bid thy salt teares call Of thy great sinne to haue remission Deferre no time no weeke no day no houre But pleade with teare best pleading Oratour Confesse I say with a true broken heart For who can tell the force of such confession Thy sinne and by thy sinne thy iust desert And for the same thy soules contrition With such confession learne for to accord For such regaines thy now lost liuing Lord. It ioyes the Saints make cleare the conscience Cancels the bond of sinne it 's hope of pardon It 's Brideler of feare best pleasing incense Heau'n opening key sweet satisfaction Best motiue moouing thy dull soule to rise From wretched earth to blessed Paradise Iesu I thirst but not for Dauids draught Not of the Cisterne of Philistines spring T is not that water though so dearely bought That any comfort to my heart can bring That which the Angels loue and Saints require That holy water doth my soule desire Open thy gate kinde hearted Pharise Oh giue me way and leaue to enter in That I may prostrate humbly on my knee Shew to my God the greatnes of my sinne On stage of blacke the Actor be my heart My soule the Chorus and my sinne the part O but saith one art not thou Magdalen