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	sin_n	sinner_n	4,170	5	8.5086	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A05590	The gushing teares of godly sorrovv Containing the causes, conditions, and remedies of sinne, depending mainly upon contrition and confession. And they seconded, with sacred and comfortable passages, under the mourning cannopie of teares, and repentance. By William Lithgovv.	Lithgow, William, 1582-1645?	1640 (1640)	STC 15709; ESTC S108580	48,504	102

excrements we know And breath stinke worse than beasts of any race Nay sweetest things that ever time made faire They loathsome grow unlesse the use be rare The soule except'd when I consider all Gods workes and Creatures Man is onely worst The rest sublunary succumbent fall Mans ●ly blest or else for ever curst All things as servile serve for mediate ends Save Man whose wage on joy or woe depends Lord what am I within this house of clay But brickle trash compos'd of slime and dust A rotten fabrick subject to decay Which harbours nought but crums of wretched lust And if a guest of one good thought entreates me I barre it out to lodge the ill that hates me Impietie and custome scale my Fort To rule my minde like to their blinde desire Will head-strong helpes corruption keeps the Port The hands and feet set eye and tongue on fire Then Eloquence breaks forth a subtile foe To trap the object working me the woe Why cause affection begets opinion Opinion rules the World in ev'ry minde Then sense submits that pleasure should be Minion To base conceit absurdly grosse and blinde Thus fond opinion self loves halting daughter Betrayes my scope commits me to sinnes slaughter Then judgement falls and fails and reason flees To shelter Wisedome in some solid breast They leave me both left loaden with disease Whilst frailty fastens sorrow on my creest Delite contracts despite despyte disdaine Thus threefold chaind their furies forge my paine My best companion is my deadly foe Sin is my Consort and would seeme my friend Yea walks with me where e're my footsteps goe And will not leave me till my journeys end The more I flee the faster it cleaves to me And makes corruption labour to undoe me There six degrees of sinne in man I finde Conception first and then consent doth follow The thirds desire that turns his judgement blinde The fourth is practise ragged rent and hollow The fift is flinty keeps fast obduration And last the sixt lulls him in reprobration Mans owne corruption is the seed of sinne And custome is the pudle of corruption Swift head-strong habit traitour-like creeps in And blows sinnes bellowes to make more inruption Nay the worlds example sinnes strong secourse Makes both the object and the subject worse How many foes hath man within without him Within lurks concupiscence vertues foe Without the world which waits and hangs about him Both ghostly and humane to worke his woe Last comes the conscience judge-set to accuse him And verdict given then terrour would confuse him Thus man is ev'ry way tost to and fro Like Tunneise balls when banded still rebound All things have action Nature rules it so The secret sprite of life these motions bound Their being honours God who gave them being But Man fals back from him gave reason seeing And yet to quench these fires remorse creeps in And brings contrition with confession crying Faith flees before pleads pardon for our sin Then ragged rottennesse fals down a dying For repentance and remission of sinnes Are two inseparable sister twinnes Most have no tears for sinne but tears of strife To plead malicious pleyes and waste their meanes On Lawyers tongues that love their envious life And what like partie loose the Cormant gleanes Their cause and charges lost O spightfull pride They spend at last the stock they had beside Like to the Mouse and frogge which did contend Which of them should enjoy the marish ground The Kyte as Judge discuss'd this cause in end And took them both from what they could not bound So Proctors seaze on Clyants lands and walls And raise themselves in their contentious falls They 're like to Aesops dogge who had a bone When through a flood he swim'd fast in his head Where spying his shade he lets it fall anone To catch the other lost them both indeed So spitefull men and greedy well it s knowne In seeking others state they loose their owne Thrice blest is he who knowes and flyes like men Since greed begets oppression or debate And though Deceivers play Politicks then To make their wrongs a right to raise their state Yet forth it comes no subtiltie can close it For time and truth will certainly disclose it They thinke to hide their faults by craft and plots To blynde Gods eyes as they inveigle man O strange what villany their soule besots That dare 'gainst truth the traitour play and than Deceive themselves by a deceitfull way Which tends to death and make them Satans prey Then there is nought but once will come to light No sinne so close but God will it discover No policie can blinde Almighties sight Nor fault so hid that he will once passe over Unlesse repentance draw his mercy downe Thy darkest deeds shall be disclos'd eftsoone Behold Jonah from Joppa when he fled And would not stay to do the Lords direction Clos'd in a ship and hid yea nothing dread Yet found he was and swallowed for correction And Paul for Damas bound to persecute His Saints was stroke yet sav'd his drifts refute Looke to Cains murder how it was clear'd And Davids blood-shed with adultrie mixt Remarke the bush whence Adams voice appear'd And Israels thoughts when they their Maker vext Then he who made thine eyes and gave them sight Can he not see who gave thy seeing light It 's not with God as men Gods ev'ry where In Heaven and earth Gods presence filleth all In Hell below his Justice ruleth there All things must to his omniscience fall Man knows but as he sees and in a part But God doth search the reynes and try the heart How swinishly alas have I then liv'd Nay who can say that I have liv'd at all Whilst buried else in sleep in sloth or griev'd With fals-forgd cares conglutinating thrall To tempt my loving and most patient God I have contemn'd his mercy mock'd his rod There 's nought so smooth and plaine as calme-set seas And nought more rough when rag'd by stormy winde The lead is cold as yce or Winter freize But when been firde its scolding hote we finde Theirne is blunt till toold and edge be put And then most sharpe to stobbe to shave or cut So patient God is loath and slow to wrath His patience is as great as great his love Long suffring he deferres to threaten death Till our grosse sinnes his just drawn-judgements move And then his anger stirr'd it burnes like fire Consuming man and sinners in his ire Next pause I on the momentany sight Of mans short life that like a shadow flees Much like the swiftnesse of a Faulcones flight Or like a bird glydes by our glancing eyes Then marvell I how man can harbour pride Or wherein should his vanitie confyde To day he 's stout to morrow laid in grave His lookes alive are plumd like variant feathers Been throwne in dust he turnes to earth a slave And as he breaths

then his back could beare Then great was that sad burden Jesus bore In soule and body to exstirpe this curse His Fathers wrath our punishment therefore Our endlesse doome eternall his secourse His agonies our happinesse implord His bloody sweet our detriments restord As in a garden first our sinne began So in a Garden our redemption sprung That in like place where Adam the first Man Was by the Serpents craft exactly stung So so in Gethsemaine the Lord of light Triumph'd o're sinne put Satan to the flight Then Christ is that pure glasse wherein we spie Our wants our faults or what amisse is done Within instruction without examples lye Here death proclaimd and there salvation The lists are set then how can we come in But by repentance sorrowing for sin How precious were these tears of Magdalen Who washt Christs feet with eye-repenting drops Yea with her haire did dry these feet agen And kiss'd them with her lip-bepearled chops Last did anoint them with a costly oyle For which the Traitour Judas checkd such spoile Thrice sacred worke but more blest oyle and teares Spent in the presence of her soules Redeemer To expiat sinne Whom now the dead endeares To be a Saint for so did Christ esteeme her And for which love its memorie should last From age to age till all ages be past Besides her owne salvation she became A dayly follower to her Lord and Master Yea ministred things needfull fed zeales flame With heavenly food whereof she was a taster Nay to his death and grave she never left him And witnesse bore how thence his Godhead reft him Came not kinde Mary weeping to this grave To looke for Christ but could not finde him there The Angell spoke and ask'd Whom would you have Said she To see my Lord is all my care But he 's not here alas he 's stolne away And where he 's laid I know not nor what way The winding-sheet she found clos'd at both ends And close by the Tombe side she sate her downe She sought she felt she search'd and still suspends He was and was not there back to the towne She bends her face yet staid and cry'd and wept My Lord is stolne whom souldiers watch'd and kept The heavie stone roll'd back which fourty men Could scarce advance yet where 's my loving Lord I 'le runne and tell let the Apostles ken What villanies this night the Jews afford Yet gone she soone turnd back love masterd heart For from the Sepulchre she would not part Nor did darke midnight fright her nor the sight Of two bright Angels set at either end Of his interrement nor their words afright Her mourning zeale whose scope did deeper tend To seeke the Lord who gave her light and grace And till she found him would not leave the place At last Christ in a humane shape appear'd Whom she mistooke and for a Gardner deemd Said he Why wepst thou whom seekst thou she feard Said Tell me if thou stole him us redeemd Then Jesus nam'd Mary she turnes about And cry'd Rabboni with a joyfull shout This lessons us that when we fast or pray We should not faint but hope our suite shall speed He 'le come and come in time though he delay Our suite he 'le grant though we mistake the deed Then Mary-like let faith charge hope and do it Faile not be instant grace shall bring thee to it Christ from the worldly wise and great kept back These mysteries which silly ones did see And why his will did this poore woman take To witnesse that he rose and rose on hie That by his resurrection we might rise To cut the clouds and rent the azure skies As mines of gold and silver still are found On barren Hills and scurrile fruitlesse parts So faith so feare so zeale Religion sound Are chiefly plac'd and fixt in pooremens hearts Did not Christs wisedome this foresee and choosd The scummes of Nature whom the world refusd Lord grant with Magdalen I spend my teares With sighing sadnesse to implore thy pittie That when my conscience shall be void of feares I then may know thou hast destroy'd my dittie Speake peace I pray thee to this soule of mine Since what I have is all and onely thine As fire reserves two properties well mixt The one to warme the other light to shoe So mercy hath two branches better fixt Love to give peace and pardon to forgoe For pittie rules the helme and Mans distresse Craves calme in midst of stormie wickednesse Like so are troubles th' whetstone that doth square Stress'd hearts with prayer humble them most low Why cause adversities they still prepare The soule with patience to sustaine the blow All crosses to the just their well intend The cause being Christs their suffrings in him end Thou Joy of joyes sweeter farre than sweetnesse Thy mercy is that balme which heales my sores Thou peace and pittie oynt my wounds with wetnesse No drouth of sinne can chink my weeping gores Why cause each sinne begets a source of teares When sinne evapourats then grace appeares Then pardon fraught with pittie stops the Font Lest sorrow melt the soule in anxious sadnesse Deep sobs and windy sighes above they mount Whence they returne surcharged with godly gladnesse No finne so sterne but mercy can suppresse it If with repenting grief we but confesse it Lord save me from presumptuous sinnes and save My soule from sinnes desert mercy is thine All my transgressions kinde remission crave They lye before thee though the fault is mine Begging for pardon pardon they implore And in my frailnesse guiltinesse deplore A wounded conscience who can beare that load O racking sting that galles the quivring soule All sweet chastisements of thy gentle rod Are cleansers for to purge our errours foule But this mad grief contracts a gnawing worme Tempestuous whirlewindes of an endlesse storme What quick evasion shall my flight contrive To hide me from thy face what way or where If in the depths I drench lo thou canst dive If to the utmost coasts lo thou art there What umbrage Cell or Cave the world about Can menascond but thou wilt finde me out Above else deep beneath or here below Thy presence is Then whither shall I flee There is no point but that point thou dost know Though smaller than the smallest haire can bee No rocks nor hills nor darknesse can me night Nor blacknesse vaile from thy all-seeing sight Then in a word there 's no refuge for me But flye to thee whose sight I can not shunne To beg for peace and grace to mortifie My sinfull lusts before my glasse be runne Lord let mine eyes distill like melting sleet Or Marie-like who washd with teares thy feet It is the minde and not the Masse thou seeks My sprit is thine and longs to be refinde By it thou knowst my secreet wayes and creeks Whether I be to good or ill inclinde My soule 's the Ruther of my journey

word and they posternall blanks The light here shines with them doth darknesse lye Or shall the truth in foppish relicks rest That were to Britaine an Egyptian pest But stay O stay long have I liv'd and liv'd To see their blindnesse in dejections fall I know their wayes and at their lives have griev'd They pierce our wills and we their projects thrall Is any under Sunne so well acquainted VVith them as I whose body they tormented They wish that Malaga had burnt me quick As doom'd I was so by Spaines Inquisition Whose tortures ah fast to my bones doestick And vexe mesore with pangs of requisition Great God avenge't confound them and restore Me to my health for I le debord no more Lord give me grace of all things to praise Thee Who never leaves thine owne left in distresse Thou first discoverd then deliver'd me A worke of love beyond my hopefulnesse I sought thou wrought then did enlarge my life Free from destruction last from Papall strife Now to observe my method I le returne To square construction with deploring Saints Then here 's my rule I le both rejoyce and mourne For teares bring joy when mercy crownes complaints The just man sinnes seven times a day and I Full seventy seven times may each houre descry Oh! if mine eyes like Arathusean Springs Fled Greece to Syracuse could yeeld three Fonts One to bewaile originall sinne stings The life of nature the other ah amounts To actuall trespasse the last and worst comes in To consuetude a deadly dangerous sinne Yet as the Malefactour when set free From death and pardond his heart is overjoyed Or as the Prisner set at libertie Which long before he never had enjoyed So Man when freed from sinne and Satans clawes His soule triumphs and loves religious lawes A ●hipwrackt man cast on some planke to seeke The safe set land which got how glad is he So shipbroke sinners in some stormie creek Of sinfull seas and sterne iniquitie Beene free to coast the shoare of grace and landed More greater joy than theirs nev'r soule commanded A wandring sonne long forraniz'd abroad In Parents hopes left desolate or slaine Yet when returnd and shaken off the load Of strangers rites how they rejoyce amaine So Saints so Heavens so Angels joy when changd One sinner turnes who long from God hath rangd These teares at Babell spent on Tigris banks Where Euphrates salutes that stately station Sowre-set Hebraick plaints powr'd forth by ranks Of mourning Captives banishd from their Nation And Sions face O sad Judaick songs Wailing for sinne and sterne Chaldean wrongs None of their teares were lost they pierc'd the heavens Whence kinde compassion free deliv'rance sprung God from his deoperculate Cherubins ●mbracd these feares his chosen flock had stung Then Mordecais sackcloth Queene Esthers woes Wrought Hamans death made Israel to rejoise Thus teares and pale repentance brought reliefe Though once exyld see now they 're back-reclaimd The least construction bred from godly griefe Begets like mercy mercy stands proclaimd At Heavens court gate for Christ the trumpet sounds And bids all sinners come he 'le heale their wounds VVho pleads for peace shall mercie finde with God The oyle of grace shall oyle their stinking gores All fatigating soules griev'd with the load Of sinne may come whose case remorse deplores For sanctify'd crosses all just Mens troubles Are not prest sorrows Mercy comfort doubles I never finde affliction fall on me VVithout desert for God is true and just Nor shall it come and without profit be For God is good as mercifull I trust Then welcome all afflictions sent from God He whom he loves he chastens with his rod VVho loves his childe administers correction And keeps him under awe cause of complainers Yet notwithholds kinde Natures best affection But curbes his will to rectifie his manners Much more Gods love abounds cause we are fraile And playes the Jayler then becomes our baile He lets us fall that he may raise us up And though we sinke we can not headlong drowne By gentle stripes he represents the cup VVhich Christ drunk of our patience for to crowne As Peter sunke then shrunke was twice recall'd So if we sinke or slyde we are not thralld The love of God is free his mercy gracious There 's no constraint binds God to pittie man But of free will would make our soules solacious To glorifie his goodnesse if we can But apprehend by faith what he hath done For us through Christ his onely righteous Sonne Man pondring on his momentany dayes May well conceive the brevitie of time From which extract he should contract the praise Of him who hastes to short the sense of slime And if it were not for his owne Elect He would prolong the day and speed neglect What is this age of ours much like a span Yea like the water buble shent as swelld Even as the glyding shade so fadeth Man Or like the morning grasse soone sprung soone quelld Nay like the flowre which falls then rots ere noone So melt our dayes and so our dayes are done And yet what are our dayes the longest liver As one man once I saw seven score yeares old Nay diverse six score health was such a giver Of lengthning time ere they returnd to mould And yet a dreame whose larger halfe of life Was spent in sleep the rest in toile and strife Oh! if ambitious men their ends were showne That like the froth do beat on rocks of death That shadow short from a fled substance flowne Much like a dreame so vanisheth their breath Then would their deeds forbeare to tyranize The Just might live and offer sacrifice But ah their thundring spight liket'a storme thuds And boasting men would thereby God upbraid The light they scorne and in Infernall clouds Would smother vertue with a sanguine spade Is not this Christian world with bloud o'rewhelmde Their swords with strife their heads with hatred helmde See! godlesse Tyrants tyrannizing still And scourging Saints themselves they scourge with shame Like Nimrod they gainst Heaven will have their will Though justice in sad judgements plague the same At last behold where they themselves sojourne Their threatning swords back in their bosome turne When Dionisus for tyranny had fled He kept a schoole in Calabria eight yeares At Montecilion opposite indeed To Sicilie which he at last endeares A king to turnea schoolemaster was strange But back to turne a King a rarer change In this our age what kings have beene dis-thrond Detect'd cast downe last banish'd from their bounds I could recite and where th' injust were crownd And Princes headlong hurled from their grounds Pryde fosterd spight with them the Ulcer brecks Which gored the harmelesse broke ambitious necks Would God mens choler could with patience lurke To blunt the edge of anger and to curbe With Job their passion let forbearance worke The stress'd Athenian suffring Not disturbe Times meek-fac'd calmenesse prosperous in peace With which no