Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	appear_v	life_n	sin_n	4,010	5	4.7063	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A17870	A true reporte of the death & martyrdome of M. Campion Iesuite and preiste, & M. Sherwin, & M. Bryan preistes, at Tiborne the first of December 1581 Observid and written by a Catholike preist, which was present therat Wheruuto [sic] is annexid certayne verses made by sundrie persons	Alfield, Thomas, 1552-1585.; Parsons, Robert, 1546-1610, attributed name.; Walpole, Henry, 1558-1595, attributed name.	1582 (1582)	STC 4537; ESTC S107411	16,675	52

penance not thy desperate ende let Norton thinke which now in prison is to whom was said he was not Caesars friend and let the Iudge consider well in feare that Pilate washt his hands and was not cleare The witnesse false Sledd Munday and the rest which had your slanders noted in your booke con●●esse your fault beforehand it were best lest God do find it written when he doth looke in dreadfull doome vpon the soules of men it wil be late alas to mend it then You bloody iury Lea and all the leauen take ●eede your verdit which was giuen in hast do not e●clude you from the ioyes of heauen and cause you rue it when the time is past and euery one whose malice causd him say Crucifige let him dread the terror of that day Fonde Elderton call in thy foolish rime thy scurile balates are to bad to sell let good men rest and mende thy self in time confesse in prose thou hast not meetred well or if thy folly can not choose but fayne write alehouse ●oys blaspheme not in thy vain Remember you that would oppresse the cause the Church is Christes his honor can not dye though hel her selfe reuest her gresly iawes and ioyne in league with schisme and heresie though craft deuise and cruel rage oppresse yet skil wil write and martirdome confesse You thought perhaps whē lerned Cāpion dyes his pen must cease his sugred tong be still but you forgot how lowde his death it cryes how farre beyond the sound of tongue and ●uil you did not know how rare and great a good it was to write his precious giftes in blood Liuing he s●ake to th●m that present were his writings tooke their censure of the viewe Now fame reports his lerning farre and nere and now his death con●●●m●s his doctrine true his vertues now are written in the skyes and often read with holy inward eyes All Europe wonders at so rare a man England is fild with rumor of his ende London must needs for it was present than when cōstantly thrée saints their liues did spend the streets the stones the steps you ●ald thē be proclaime the cause for which these martirs dy The Tower saith the truth he did d●fend the barre beares witnes of his guiltles minde Tiborne doth tell he made a pa●●ent ende on euery gate his martirdome we finde in vaine you wroght y t would obscure his name for heauen and earth will still record the same Your sentence wrong pronounced of him here exemptes him from the iudgments for to come O happy he that is not iudged there God graunt me too to haue an earthly dome your witnes false and lewdly taken in doth cause he is not now accusd of sin His prison now the citie of the king his racke and torture ioyes and heuenly blisse for mens reproch with angels he doth sing a sacred song which euerlasting is for shame but short and losse of small renowne he purchase hath an euer during crowne His quarterd lims shall ioyne with ioy agayne and rise a body brighter then the sunne your blinded malice torturde him in vayne For euery wrinch sowe glory hath him wonne and euery drop of blood which he did spend hath reapt a ioy which neuer shal haue end Can dreary death thē daunt our faith or paine ist lingring life we feare to loose or ease no no such death procureth life againe tis only God we tremble to displease who kils but once and euer stil we dye whose hote reuenge tormentes eternallye We can not feare a mortal torment wée this Martirs blood hath moystned all our harts whose partid quarties when we chaunce to see we lerne to play the constant christians parts his head doth speake heauenly precepts giue how we y t looke should frame our selues to liue His youth enstru●ts vs how to spend our daies his flying bids vs how to vanish sinne his straight profession shews the narrow waies which they must walk that looke to enter in his home returne by danger and distresse emboldens vs our conscience to professe His hardle drawes vs with him to the crosse his speeches there prouoke vs for to dye his death doth say this life is but a losse his martird blood from heauen to vs doth crye his first and last and all conspire in this to shew the way that leadeth vnto blisse Blessed be God which lent him so much grace thanked be Christ which blest his martir so happy is he which sees his masters face Cursed are they that thought to worke him wo b●unden be we to geue eternall prayse to Iesus name which such a man did rayse Amen An o●h●r vpon the same WHat yron hart that wold not melt in gréefe what steele or stone could kepe him dry frō teares to see a Campion haled like a théefe to end his life with both his glorious feares in whose three deathes vnto the standers by euen al the world almost might seeme to dye England must lose a soueraigne salue for sinne a sweet receit for suttle herisie India a saint her seely soules to winne Turky a bane for her idolatrie the Church a souldier against Babylon to batter hell and her confusien The skowling skies did storme and puff apace they could not bear y e wrongs y t malice wroght the sunne drew in his shining purple face the moistned clouds she brimsh tears for thoght the riuer Thames a while astonied stoode to count the drops of Campions sacred blood Nature with teares bewaild her heauy lesse honesty feard her selfe should shortly dye religion saw her Champion on the crosse Angels and sainis desired leaue to cry euen herisie the eldest child of hell began to blush and thoght she did not well And yet behold when Campion made his end his humble hart was so bedewde with grace that no reproch could once his mind offend mildnes possest his sweet and cherefull face a pacient spectacle was presented then in sight of God of angels saints and men The heuens did cleare y e sun like gold did shine the cloudes were dry the fearful riuer ranne nature and vertue wypt their watred eyen religion ioyed to sée so mild a man men angels saints and al that saw him dye forgot their grief his ioyes appeard so nye They saw his patience did expect a crowne his scornful cart a glorious heauenly place his lowly mind a happy high renowne his humble cheare a ●hining angels face his feare his griefe his death agonie a ioy a peace a life in maiestie From thence he prayes and sings in melodie for our recure and calleth vs to him he stands before the throne with harmonie and is a glorious suter for our sinne with wings of loue he iumped vp so hye to helpe the cause for which he sought to dye Reioyce be glad triumph sing himmes of ioye Campion Sherwine Brian liue in blis they sue they seeke the ●ase of our annoy they pray they speake and al effectuall is not like to men

on earth as heretofore But like to sain●s in heauen and that is ●●ore FINIS A Dialogue betwene a Catholike and Consolation Catholike first speaketh Is righteous Lot from sinful Sodome gone is olde Elias left alone agayne and hath the earth no iust man no not one the cause of Christ and Christians to sustaine if holy life with true religion fayle then farewell faith for falsehood will preuayle Consolation No Lot thou hast some felowes in this lande Elias there are left seuen thousand yet reioyce thou earth thou hast a warlike ba●de for our good Lord in martial order set by life and death this quarel to beginne to vanquish falsehood satan hell and sinne Although a worthy Champion of your trayne were slayne of late and yet not vanquished into his place another stept againe whō Christs spouse our cōmon nurse hath bred lament not then for there are in his rome as good as he expecting martirdome Catholike Such men no doubt are very hard to finde for dainty things are seldome sifted out the Pheni● hath no partner of her kinde a man perhaps may seeke the world about ere he may find one Campion agayne wherfore his lesse makes me the more cōplaine Where shal you find so many giftes in one a wit so sharpe ioynd with such memory a great diuine hating promotion a lusty man prof●ss●ng chastitie a worthy impe sprong vp of basest kinde a lerned man to beare a lowly minde Solon for pith for wisedome Salomon Peter for style and Paule for eloquence Dauid for trueth for beautie Absolon for personage Saule a Iobe for patience all that for which the fame of these began a thing most strange were ioynde in this one man Not rack nor rope coold daunt his dredles mind no hope nor hap could moue him where he s●ood he wrote the truth as in his bookes we finde which to confirme he sealed with his blood which makes me dout there are no mo such mē send workmen Lord into thy vineyarde then Consolation Dispaire thou not thou seely mournful wight for there are mo haue tooke this match in hand we needs must win our lord himself doth fight the Cananites shal be expulsd the land for Edmund liues and helpeth godly men by prayers more then erst with tongue or pen. His quarters hong on euery gate do showe his doctrine sound throgh countries far neare his head set vp so high doth call for moe to fight the fight which he endured here the faith thus planted thus restord must be take vp thy crosse saith Christ and folow me As well as preists the lay men too shall frame their skillesse heads to take so good a ●●we God can of stones rayse seede to Abraham doubt not therfore for there will be enowe Catholike Fiat voluntas Dei then say I we owe a death and once we néedes must dye FINIS The complaynt of a Catholike for the death of M. Edmund Campion O God from sacred throne beholde our secret sorowes here Regard with grace our helplesse griefe amend our mournfull chéere The bodies of thy Saintes abrode are set for foules to feede And brutish birds deuour the flesh of faithfull folke in deede Alas I rue to thinke vpon the sentence truely scande No prophet any honor hath within his natiue lande Thy dolefull death O Campion is beway'd in euery c●ste But we liue here litle knowe what creatures we hane l●ste Bohemia land laments the same Rodulphus court is sad With deepe regarde they now recorde what vertues Campion had Germania mourns al Spayne doth muse and so doth Italy And Fraunce our friend hath put in print his passing tragedie They that wuld make these mē to séem● to be hir highnes foes O Lorde it is a worlde to sée the fayned fraude of those For when they had in dastard wise deuised to dispute And could not finde in al their craft the cause for to confute And that their winnings was so well they néeded not to boste And that in consciens they did know new found is lightly loste They suttly seeke a further fetche contrary to all reason To say he is not Caesars frende accusing him of treasone But shal we mutche lament the same or shall we more reioyce Such was the case with Christ our lord sutche was the Iewish voyce so wer their wrathful words pronounst so was their sentence wrong For Christ did giue to Caesar that which did to him belong So Christ his true disciples here no treason do pretend But they by Christ and Christ his lore their fayth till death defende Though error haue deuised now a visard so vnfit To cloke her craft to change the case to blear ech simple wit Because she taught vs long before that none ●or poynts of fayth According vnto Christes lore ought to be done to d●ath Her wil●nes wer soone bewrayed had they but once recanted No doubt therof they had not then not life nor liuing wanted Thus who so ways her works words with fraude shal find them fraught And how they now performe the same that heretofore they taught God knowes it is not force nor might not warre nor warlike band Not sh●●ld spear not dint of sword that must conuert the land It is the blood by martirs shed it is that noble traine That fight with word not with sword and Christ their capitaine For sooner shall you want the handes to shed sutch guiltles blood Then wise and vertuous still to come ●o do theyr country good God saue Elizabeth our quéene God send her happie raigne And after earthly honors here the heauenly ioyes to gayne And all sutch men as heretofore haue misinformd her Grace God graunt they may amend the same while here they haue the space FINIS Good reader pardon all faultes escaped in the printing and beare with the woorkmanship of a strainger 24. Act. 24. 1. Cor. 4. North bronkes booke against plaiers