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	die_v	life_n	4,790	5	5.0368	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

into the heavens third story So thou which made thee limne so well its glory Thy skill hath made Objects remote t' appear Close by and things a distance off seem neer Sin is alas an interposing screen A separating wall which stands between Glory and us but by thine heavenly art Glory 's revealed unto us in part Thine understandings search hath brought to light Secrets abstruse O blindness blest for sight The Spaniards Dove Columbus and our Drake Not Quaking in the least did undertake A long and dang'rous voyage sayling over Remotest Seas new Ilands to discover Home they return their richer vessels hold A fraught of nought but glorious luggage Gold Had they both Indies and could Numid-like Measure their unsumm'd treasure by a strike Time would consume it what a thief is Chink The greatest baggs will in the using shrink Alas alas the Glory they did win Was earthly vain their Bullion falling in A deep consumption pin'd away by leasure See there the end of their laborious pleasure But as for thee my truly Honor'd Friend Thou Rigg'st thy Vessel for an other end Thy braver spirit doth with scorn disdain The roaming here upon the foaming Main Grace is the Ship thy soul doth go aboard Thy Faith 's the Sayl thy Steers-man is Gods Word His Spirit 's the Wind that drives thee by degrees O're the calm back of th' Erythraean seas I mean Christ's bloud thou tak'st a view of heaven Returnest richly fraught with Jewels given By God himself by doing good thou thriv'st Thy lands enrich'd this is the trade thou driv'st Like Noahs Dove thou canst not dost not cease Until thou bringst an Olive-branch of Peace Wouldst thou view heaven on earth kind Reader then Let thine eye trace the foot-steps of his pen Steer'd by an others hand be pleas'd to look On the Reflections of this precious Book And here it is heavens glorious Objects pass Unto Faiths eye through this prospective glass Dost thou desire with beauties most sublime T' enrich thy soul engarrison'd with slime Shake off Earths dangling fetters which keep down Thy lab'ring soul from rising to its Crown The transient pleasures of this Mole-hill Earth Afford at best but melancholy mirth But joyes in heaven which are only sure And stable shall eternally endure In spight of time there the bles'd Saints advance Their heightned notes above the reach of chance Be practically good bid sin good-b'wy And Glory 's thine I 'le warrant you I I 'T is thine 't is thine the heavens have decreed It thine it thine Beatitude indeed Wouldst thou be made one of the royal stem And Den'son of the New-Jerusalem Be sure thou follow this directive way And then thou wilt not nay thou canst not stray Heav'n shield us all from the worlds Philtrecharms And hold us fast in his encircling arms O may we ever in that Glory rest Which our rare Author sweetly hath exprest Thrice happy be that soul who thirsting gapes To drink this liquor prest from Canaans Grapes Canterbury July 1. 1657. Nicholas Billingsley The Table A Believers present taste of future glory Page 1 Heavens glory not to be fully dsplaid in this life Page 3 Heavens Glory set out by 6 Properties Page 8 1 Its Altitude ibid 2 Its Magnificence Page 10 3 Its Purity Page 12 4 Its Amplitude Page 14 5 Its Brightness ibid 6 Its Permanency Page 16 Heavens glory further set out by sundry Scripture-names titles epithites as Page 18 1 A Kingdom Page 19 2 A Heavenly Kingdom Page 20 3 The Kingdom of God ibid 4 An Inheritance Page 21 5 An incorruptible Inheritance ibid 6 An exceeding eternal weight of glory Page 22 The Saints shall be with Christ in heaven Page 24 They shall be all Kings Page 29 They shall be all filled with joy Page 31 They shall have perfect Rest Page 34 They shall have full Security Page 36 There shall be a vindication of their names Page 39 Their Graces shall be perfected Page 42 The Beauty and Blessedness of Glorified Bodres Page 44 1 They are Immortal Page 46 2 Impassible Page 48 3 Agile Page 49 4 Amtable Page 51 The Beauty and Blessedness of Glorified Souls Page 52 1 Their Knowledge perfected Page 53 2 Their Love perfected Page 59 Five Practical Conclusions Page 64 Four Marks of our Interest in Heaven Page 75 A General Conclusion Page 82 Faiths Triumph Page 86 ERRATA In page 3. line 5. for the comprehensible r. th' incomprehensible p. 17. l. 9. for man r. men p. 31. l. 5. for joyn'd r. joyned p. 40. l. 27. for stiled r. stil'd p. 47. l. 2. for our r. over p. 49. l. 21. for at r. it p. 51. l. 15. r. bodies p. 62. l. 9. r. keep p. 62. l. 16. r. wound p 71. l. 13. r. makes GRAPES FROM CANAAN OR The Believers present taste OF Future Glory THe lives of Saints are Tragae-comaedies Their future joy their present grief out-vies Their death is sweet although their life be sowr Tears in the bud but Glory in the flower The blessed Angels at the port of bliss Or portal of the Heavenly edifice As Masters of the Ceremonies stand To welcome Saints into the Holy Land From whence into their Fathers Court strait-way These Ministring Spirits their new-Guests convey The glory that the Blessed there behold All language is too narrow to unfold The glittering stars which in that Orbe do shine No Logick can sufficiently define Had I as many tongues as hairs yet I Could never set out the resplendency Of that celestial Paradise above For saints ordained by the God of Love The shadow of it in the picture I Can only give and that imperfectly Heavens Glory not to be fully displai'd in this life NO eye hath seen ear heard or heart of man At any time conceived hath or can The comprehensible sublimity And glorious mysteries of that most high And heavenly Wisdom and unparallel'd Sweetness which in the Gospel is reveai'd How altogether then unutterable Is the perfection how inexplicable The full the real and the actual Fruition of those Evangelical Mysterious Revelations which are even Accomplish'd to the height in th' highest Heaven The eye of man hath seen Earths rarest sights Its bravest Ornaments and chief delights Mountains of Chrystal and rich Mines of Gold With Rocks of Diamonds wondrous to behold Ilands of Spices and the Pearly coast Of which some Travellers so much do boast The stately and sublime Pyramides Diana's Temple and such like as these Mausolus tombe in all its pompe and pride With all the wonders of the world beside The Ear hath with the sweetest melody Oft charmed been even with such harmony As once transported the amazed ear Of Alexander with a pang as 't were Of pleasing rage and sweerly did inhance His spirit with a most delightful dance The Heart of man imagine and surmise Rare pieces can and strange felicities The pebbles on the ground it in conceit Into rich Pearls can transubstantiate Dust into

end The spouse on Earth in sable doth appear Because she absent is from her most dear And loving husband but in heaven she Of all her mourning weeds shall stripped be Her bloody Robes Christ then will take away And all in white will her forthwith array Hell 's call'd a place of weeping they that here For all their sins would never shed a tear Shall weep enough when they tormented ly I' th' scorching flames of endless misery But when the saints have gain'd the heav'nly crown Christ from the willows will their harps take down He for his trumpeters and heraulds there VVill call who at his beck do all appear The glorious Angels that caelestial Quire VVith one consent do mutually conspire To warble forth the anthemes of divine Praise and with them the saints shall all combine And shall with wondrous skill and heavenly art In that blest consort sweetly sing their part If when we are i'th'arms of Christ it were Possible for a saint to shed a tear It would without all paradventure be A tear of joy Christ to eternitie VVith beams of love upon his spouse will shine And all her water there turn into wine One smile from Christ will make her quite forget Her former grievances and strait-way set Her on the pinacle of joy where she From all afflictions ever shall be free Sorrow 's a cloud that 's gather'd in the heart Upon the apprehension of some smart And weeping which the off-spring is of pain A cloud of grief is dropping into rain But Christ the sun of Righteousness shall shine So brightly in the heavenly Palaestine That there no interposing clouds shall be No sorrow mix'd with our felicitie In heaven there 's no Devil to entice Nothing to breed or to engender vice Saints in the bosome there of peace shall rest No enemy there shall be to molest Though Isr'el had subdued Canaan yet Of all the Canaanites they could not get The mastery or wholly them expel But they amongst them in that Land would dwell But when we with the Father are of Lights VVe shall no more be vex'd with Canaanites God with a flaming sword world without end The heavenly paradise shall still defend The Saints in Heaven shall have perfect Rest. A Pilgrime 〈◊〉 i' th' vale of miserie May to 〈◊〉 silver well resembled be Which hath a principle of motion in it But not of Rest he almost every minute Is like the Ball upon the Racket or The ship upon the waves that swell and rore So long as sin our nature doth deface And a co-habitant remains with grace While Saints do feed on such unwholsome diet They subject are to motion and disquiet There is no rest saith holy David in My bones at all by reason of my sin Here saints are in a constant fluctuation And of their sorrows have no relaxation They 'r like the tyde that flows sometime and than After a while doth ebb as fast again No rest on earth is to be had ' cause we While here below out of our center be The Dove no rest after a tedious flight Could find till on the Ark she did alight But when the saints in heaven do arive An everlasting rest shall them revive The winds of persecution often blow Upon this spiritual corn whilst it doth grow Here in the field and each one passing by Will still be plucking most inhumanely These sacred ears of corn but when this crop Is in the heavenly Grainery laid up It from the injury of wind and weather Shall then preserved be for altogether It with impetuous storms no more opprest Shall be at all but ever be at rest Not that in heaven there 's no principle Of motion spirits neither can nor will Be idle there but such a motion 't is As without lassitude and labour is No weariness the saints shall there infest Their work 's their case their motion is their rest They labour here for rest but there they shall Rest from their labours and be freed from thrall The Saints in Heaven shall have full Security 'T Is possible a saint some minutes may Of rest have here but they soon pass away Security's a flower that doth not grow In Natures Garden whilst we 're here below Sudden eclipses in our hemisphear To over-cloud our comforts oft appear We here in danger are of losing what Our heav'n-blest industry hath fairly got He that upon the pinnacle is plac't Of honour doubts his honour will not last He that abounds in worldly wealth still fears A devastation by the plunderers Nay a Believer though his riches be Most permanent and durable yet he Still pendulous and full of scruples is 'Bout his condition lest of heaven he miss Sometimes he questions and would gladly know Whether in the state of grace he be or no When Satan hath o're-reach'd him in some plot Do I believe saith he or do I not Something I have that shines but is not it A chain of pearl that 's only counterfeit My Faith's presumption and my love what is' t But love of self and no true love to Christ Yea when the holy Spirit hath me taught And in my soul some sound perswasion wrought I soon am shaken like a ship that lies At anchor when the swaggering billows rise Thus these distracting fears oft make him start And sad impressions leave upon his heart Yea when a christian knows himself to be I' the state of Grace yet then he fears lest he Into some scandalous offence should fall And so Gods spirit grieve and deeply gall His own awakened conscience and the heart Of Gods dear children pierce through with this dart Lest he thereby should sinners harden and Make Babes in Grace affrighted at him stand Yea which is worst of all lest God his spark Extinguish should and leave him in the dark These fears out of a gracious heart are still Arising like black vapours and do fill The souls of saints with sorrow but when they Released are out of their house of clay And in th' embraces of their Saviour lye Their hearts shall then have full security When they with Christ in glory shall appear They shall be rid of dangers and of fear A Christian in this life may likened be Unto a man upon the summitie Of some ●all Maste sometime the pirates I Mean perecutors at his ship let fly And though the passenger can't be annoy'd To wit the soul yet oft the ship's destroy'd Sometimes the winds of strong temptation blow Those northern winds and the poor christian now Gods favour questions much and gladly would Know if his name were in Gods Book enrould And though in Christ having an interest There is no danger yet his heart can't rest But when he is with Christ off from the mast And planted on that rock all peril 's past Then you shall hear him say Now I am sure I 've shot the Gulf my soul is now secure I 'm past from death to life no Sirens charms