Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	adam_n	cause_n	sin_n	5,393	5	5.7654	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A63574	Grapes from Canaan, or, The believers present taste of future glory expressed in a short divine poem, the issue of spare hours, and published at the request, and for the entertainment of those whose hopes are above their present enjoyments.	Taylor, Francis, 1590-1656.	1658 (1658)	Wing T280; ESTC R20740	35,830	120

Henceforth can pluck me from my Saviors arms In Heaven there shall be a Vindication of Names THough Saints a conscience here void of offence Towards God man have yet their innocence By poysoned arrows of malitious words Oft wounded is which sharper are than swords The Devil that old serpent sticks not to Spit out his venome at the godly through The mouths of wicked men if he can't smite Their consciences with his keen darts and fright Their souls into dispair he then will put A dead flie in their names which oft doth cut Them to the very heart the saints we see Unto the world oft times decipher'd be In a sad manner who can e're express How strangely saints look in the Devils dress Job to the world was represented by His Friends as one stain'd with hypocrisie Saint Paul was stiled a seditious man When he to publish heavenly truths began The marks of Christ he in his body did Not only bear but in his name beside Yea Christ himself who blessed is for ever Was called of the people a deceiver And still the Devils instruments assay The saints in ugly colours to pourtray A hainous sin no doubt 't is to defame A christian by bespattering his good name It is no less than murther rather he Would lose his life than 's credit soyl'd should be Who so his neighbor wounds in 's reputation For it can never make him reparation Flaws in mens credit are like blots in white Paper which one can hardly fetch out quite Or if the wound it self should cured be Some skar to their perpetual obloquie Would still remain in fine they do defame The God of saints who blast the saints good name Believers have Gods picture on their hearts And he that casteth his malitious darts Against it or prophanely spits upon 't Offers to God himself no small affront Well either God the innocence will clear Of his Elect while they do sojourn here when graceless-men them with their tongus do smite Their righteousness hee 'l bring forth as the light Or else without all peradventure at The day of Doom their names he 'l vindicate Though troublers now of Israel stiled they be The day shall come when their integritie By him shall be proclaim'd who only knows The hearts of men and can their thoughts disclose The dust that here upon their reputation Was thrown by men of evil conversation Shall then be wiped off and they no more Shall loaded be with scandals as before The credits then of those shall be redeem'd Of whom the world so basely here esteem'd For names Jehovah who is great and good Shall inquisition make as well as blood And then the saints shall such a luster gain As no polluted breath can ever stain Then God himself the stone of obloquie Which here below on their good names did lye Estsoons shall roul away and they out from Among the pots immediately shal come Where they were black'd and sulled and shal be No more traduced to eternity They then must needs appear without a blur When God himself is their compurgator The Graces of the Saints shall be perfect in heaven HEre Grace to silver may resembled be Which hath some dross blent with its purity But when 't is coined in the heavenly mint No mixture of corruption shall be in 't When we 're advanc'd to the caelestial throne Grace shall be flowr'd into perfection It then most certainly refin'd shall be Into the highest power and purity This contemplation should unto a saint Be very sweet our love hath here I grant Its winter in our breasts but it shall be As fire ad octo in eternitie No smoak of imperfection shall obscure That radiant flame or render it impure Our graces in such orient colours there As never can be soyled shall appear There grace shall want no measure no degree But to eternity shall perfect be It may be here compared to a star Imprison'd in a cloud but when we are Once fixed in the firmament one high It like the sun in a most glorious skye Shall then appear and there a regal crown Of rare and matchless beauty shall put on In fine 't is manifest in sacred story That grace shall then be swallow'd up in glory THE BEAUTY AND BLESSEDNESS OF Glorified Bodies WHile we 're on Earth our earthly tabernacle Is of infirmities the receptacle Physicians find with all their art and skill Enough to do to piece't up for a while Our house of clay like to a picture is That 's out of frame or like an edifice That wants repair how soon each sudden blast Of sickness doth its strength and beauty wast How often is the heaven-born spirit pent Up in a most deformed tenement To rotten wood the body may indeed Be likened where like worms diseases breed But yet this piece of clay bespangled shall With glory be above in heavens VVhitehall No Feaver there or Plurisie shall be No wound distemper or deformity But all the issues of infirmity That here beset the holiest saints shall dry Up in illustrious splendour there for aye With greater beauty God shall them array Then that of Phoebus when it shines most bright And blaz'ned is in its meridian light There Leah shan't complain of her blear eyes Nor ag'd Barzilla of infirmities Whither the bodies glory doth rebound From the souls blessedness and so redound By a continued constant influence Upon the body with much diligence I shall not here enquire or whether by Jchovahs powerful hand originally In the reformed body 't is implanted This in the general is on all sides granted That in the morning of the resurrection It shall be raised up in great perfection And like the glorious Body of our dear Saviour in heavenly splendor shall appear Which is a happiness most excellent Superlative and supereminent Glorified BODYES immortal DEath is the bitter and accursed fruit Of sin a worm still feeding at the root Of our decaying Gourds but when we die Our mortal puts on immort alitie As 't was with Adam in his innocence Had not sin stript him of his excellence Such harmony between each quality There of his Body was that probably Of life he never should have been bereaven But have translated been to th' highest heaven Indeed by Bellarmine it is averr'd That Adam dy'd had though he ne're had err'd But there 's no ground for this assertion in The sacred scripture to be found there sin Is made the formal cause of death however Death our bodies glorified shall never Dominion have but they by heavens decree Are made as long liv'd as eternity That God who Manna made some ages past Hundreds of years'th ' golden pot to last Shall so consolidate the body by His soveraign power that it shall never die But with impossibility of ever Perishing shall in blisful state persevere Heavenly Bodies impassible SOul grinding sores Jobs Body soft and tender Invaded and therein did worms engender And every worm was actuated by A

to be had In any other if they be not clad VVith his unspotted robes of righteousness They can't be sav'd in any other dress There 's no name under heaven that can ease us Of sins enthralment but the name of Jesus Saints by his merits only do attain Eternal life which is the greatest gain Good works to heavens kingdom are the way The cause of reigning that we dare not say Christ is the Door and there 's no entring in But by his bloud which clonseth from all sin He is the curtain the refreshing screen Us and Gods scorching ire that stands between The deluge of his wrath no man can shun Unless with speed into this ark he run They lose themselves for ever who assay To go to heaven any other way The Fourth Mark THeir souls oft soar above the spangled sky And unto Heaven in contemplation fly Mount Tabor they do frequently ascend To eye the glory that may there be kenn'd They heaven alwayes have within their eye VVhich makes them earthly trifles to defie Their hearts are only fix'd on things above These are the chiefest objects of their love The blessed God their thoughts still dwel upon An eartely saint's a contradiction Though they to so journ here below are driven Yet is their conversation still in heaven There is their treasure there their chief estate From which no wile their hearts can separate How to be great on earth is not their plot They use the world as though they us'd it not The pleasures of this life they little heed Their thoughts upon the fairest objects feed They 'r alwayes pressing forward tow'rds the mark And long to taste the Manna in heav'ns ark The Fifth Practical Conclusion O Long to be installed in the throne Of endless glory let thy spirit groan After a full and plenary possession Of blessedness transcending all expression Pant after that unparallell'd estate One mite whereof surpasseth all conceit Be like the Bird of Paradise which they say Being intangled in the snare straightway Begins to strive and never giveth o're Till she enjoy her freedom as before Sing Simeons swan-like song at his decease Lord let thy servant now depart in peace Welcome the messenger of death which brings Most joyful tydings from the King of Kings Which tells the saints of an approaching crown Of matchless glory honour and renown Death is the chariot which without delay Saints to their Fathers house soon bears away Death lodgeth souls i' th' twinckling of an eye In the sweet bosome of felicity Death is to humble penitents no less Then a short entrance into happiness Their nasty loathsome rags death frees them from And gives them change of raiment in their room Death is the saints ascension day to bliss Their marriage day with Jesus Christ it is Death is the Charter of their liberty The period of their pain and misery Death gives them an immunity from sin And frees them from the fears they once were in Death is the bane of woe the grave of vice The portal opening into Paradise Where grace that in the bud was here below Into the flow'r of glory straight shal blow Where saints immortal souls made more divine Shal with the Di'monds of perfection shine Where they to their unspeakable delight Of God himself shal have a perfect sight VVhere in their wills there shal a likeness be To God in holiness and purity VVhere having shot the gulph of Death they shal VVear on their heads a crown imperial VVhere the rich caskets of their souls shal be O'relaid with glories best embroiderie VVhere in the river they of pleasures shal Be bath'd whose sweetness is perpetual VVhere no contaminating tincture e're Shall their unspotted purity besmear VVhere God himself unto the saints shall be A spring of life to perpetuitie Where they shal in the fragrant bosome li● Of their beloved to eternitie Where saints by vertue of their Saviours merit Shal alwayes have fresh in-comes of the spirit VVhere the enammel of their glory shal Never wear off nor soiled be at all VVhere they shal have a rich redundancy Of peace joy comfort and serenity Where they their safety shal behold from all Insulting foes and their eternal thrall VVhere they a glorious kingdom shal receive Of which no power on earth can them bereave VVhere they shal be partakers of that joy VVhich will them satisfie but never cloy VVhere Baca into Beracha shal be Converted mourning into melody VVhere brinish tears shal never dim their eyes Nor shal their ears be frighted more with cryes Where sorrows ne're shal damp their hearrs again Nor shal their senses be disturb'd with pain VVhere they no more shal persecuted be By Satans imps for their integrity VVhere saints with sparkling Gems of glory shal Be deck'd and not be envi'd for 't at all VVhere length of years without the least decay Of strength they shal enjoy yea where for ay They shal be blessed with the love of many And need not fear the jealoufie of any VVhere for their labour a Quietus est Each saint shal have and ever be at rest Where life and immortality they shall Have for their death in Christ and Christ for all The Conclusion of the whole THe Glory that within the curtain lies Can't measur'd be by our capacities There 's more within the vaile than by the best And most sublimed saint can be exprest Grace may believe 't but Reason cannot sound The bottom of 't though never so profound In fathoming this rich inheritance What 's all acuteness but meer ignorance He cannot reach this glory that 's indu'de VVith knowledge in the largest latitude If Natures secretary did not know The cause why Euripus did ebbe and flow O how then would his Reason puzz'led be To sound the Ocean of Eternity VVhat the inspired Pen-man doth relate Of natural men and unregenerate Respectively to spir'tuals that they are Not able them to comprehend or bear The same more truly may asserted be In reference unto Eternity 'T is with the prospect of eternity As to the Ocean it is with the eye It may its surface not its bottom see And so some dark and glimmering knowledge we May have of heaven but no mortal eye Into its in side able is to pry The blind-man half restored to his sight Said Lo I see by this imperfect light Men walk as trees So may a pur-blind eye Glance at the riches of Eternity Some few weak parcels of the knowledge we May of it gain but not its Centre see He that was carri'd up above the sky To see a Landskip of Felicity To take a view of those transcendencies Heaven was enrich'd withal what there his eyes Had seen to their ineffable content At his return with what astonishment Doth he relate it Yea he doth confess Words were too weak his Vision to express The ravishing and beatifical Sights which his eyes had blessed been withal VVere not to be pourtrai'd in all their glory By th'