Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	body_n	heart_n	soul_n	4,780	5	4.6461	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A16797	The soules heavenly exercise set downe in diuerse godly meditations, both prose and verse, by Nicholas Breton gent	Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626?	1613 (1613)	STC 3700.5; ESTC S113342	21,730	172

Maiestie such is y e nature of my corruption as giues me no other expectation whiles I looke vpō mine owne desert but when againe with the humble eye of a penitent heart I beholde the bleeding wounds of the blessed bodie of thy dearely beloued sonne Iesus Christ and see in his merite a present helpe for all my hurte in his death my life and in his loue my eternall consolation how can I despaire of one droppe of comfort where I see a fountaine of so much grace as quencheth y e thirst of all y t come vnto it ioyeth y e harts of all that taste of it and reuiueth the soules of all that drinke of it No my deare Lord in him alone I humbly beseech thee looke vpon mee in his woundes let me hide me till in his merite thy mercie heale mee I dare not speake to thee let him onely speake for me beholde his goodnesse and not my wickednesse looke on him that hath pleased thee and for his sake forget mee that haue offended thee it is I that haue deserued death for my sinnes but it is he that hath dyed for thē and since hee hath satisfied thy iustice in him let mee begge mercy mercy good Lord Lord of all mercy be merciful vnto me in Christ his passion forgiue mee in his loue looke vpon me let his bloode wash mee cleane from my sins and his kindnesse be a Mediatour for my comfort that being by him redeemed to thy seruice I may in his loue liue to thy glorie and in the comfort of thy holy spirite in the blessing of his merit and ioy of thy mercie I may sing to thy holie Maiestie the eternall Halleluiah Amen O Blessed Lord father of all goodnesse mercie who seest the very thoughts of men before they be effected and knowest the world before it was created O incomprehensible GOD whose vnsearchable wisdome is vnspeakeable in all goodnesse who hast made the heauens for thy beloued and beholdest on earth the teares of thy afflicted who onely canst doe all things at thy good pleasure art plesed in nothing but goodnes sweete Lord y t hast mercy ouer al thy works and art the onelie worker of all mercie who hast commaunded al to come vnto thee hearest all that cry vnto thee and helpest all that trust in thee deare god among the humble heartes of those penitēt soules that with the teares of true repentance in the faith of thy sonnes merit fly onely to thy sacred mercy I most humbly beseech thee vouchsafe thy gratious eare to y e grieuous complainte of my tormented spirit oh Lord that hast enlightened my soule w t the shining beames of thy grace that hath taken awaie the scales from mine eyes that would not let mee see the heauen of thy holy loue hast in the pretious blood of thy deare beloued sonne Iesus cleansed mee from my sinnes and in the sweetenes of thy loue giuen me a taste of thy selfe hast reformed my soule to thy seruice anewe moulded my minde to thy mercy sweete Lord I humbly beseech thee let not all this good be lost in me that thou hast done for me giue mee not ouer to my selfe that sinne doe not ouercome me but keepe mee so vnder thy winges that no wicked spirit may haue power ouer mee Thou knowest my tēptations oh deliuer me from them rebuke those wicked spirits that I may be ridde of them and confound their illusions that I be not deceiued by them O Lord cōsider my miseries I am a wretched sinner dust and ashes f●● of nothing but corruptiō weaknes iniquity thou art a glorious God spirit life creator of al cōfort only ful of al power goodnes glory sweet Lord therfore in thy pitty looke vpon me make me strong in thee y t am weak in my selfe wise in thee y t am foolish in my selfe holy in thee y t am wicked in my selfe be merciful vnto me helpe mee plague thē y t seeke y e hurt of mysoule confound them y t seeke to drawe me from thy loue From the loue of this worlde from the delight of sinne and from the assaults of the diuell good Lord deliuer mee from presumptuous sinnes and despaire of thy mercy sweete Iesu preserue mee Hate me not for my sinnes but pittie mee for thy selfe oh saue me for I am thy seruant beholde the sorrowes of my soule I haue roared for the very disquiet of my heart oh blesse mee with the peace of thy holie spirite that I may sing to the glory of thy mercy Amen O Blessed God father of all power mercy comfort whose graces are infinite and whose glory is vnspeakeable O God of all goodnesse who canst not be but good whose goodnesse is almighty whose power is ful of mercy sweet Lord that seest the misery of man without the comfort of thy grace the weakenes of man without y e assistance of thy holy spirit and the sorrowe of man without the ioy of thy loue let not the burthen of sinne lie so heauie vpon the wounded conscience of thy wretched creature that harty praiers may obtain no hearing true repentance may gaine no comfort nor bitter teares moue any compassion let not the wicked fiend so haūt y e soule of a sinner y t he haue no thought of thy grace let not the cares of this world y e feare of death the sorrow of sinne nor the suggestion of the diuell driue him into despaire of thy mercy looke on him whome thou hast made hear him whom thou hast called and saue him whom thou hast redeemed heale the heart that is wounded and comforte the soule that is full of sorrowe in thy power fight for mee against the enemy that doth assault my soule in thy goodnesse cure me of thei ll wherwith he hath infected mee and in thy mercie defende mee from the temptations wherewith hee seeketh to destroy mee Thou art my life oh let mee liue in thee thou art my loue let me neuer be from thee thou art my Lord let me liue but to thee thou art my God oh let mee euer be with thee I haue sinned and woe is mee but I am sory well is mee for in the sorrowe of my sinne is my hope of thy mercie and in the hope of thy mercie is the ioy of my soule Thou biddest mee repent and I shall haue mercie aske and I shall haue knocke and it shall be opened vnto mee O my deare God with the deepe sighes of vnfained sorrowe and the true teares of my hearts repentance haue I knocked at the gates of thy gratious mercie begging an almes from y e hand of thy blessed bountie one crumme of comfort from the table of thy mercie one looke of pittie from the eye of thy loue one droppe of thy bloode to cleanse mee from my sinnes one droppe of thy grace to feede the lampe of my loue and one looke of thy loue to make me liue for euer Sweete Iesu

my God destroy The scorners of his word O that my heart coulde hit vpon a straine Would strike the musick of my soules desire Or that my soule could find that sacred vaine That sets the consort of the Angels quire Or that that spirit or especiall grace That cannot stoupe beneath the state of heauē Within my soule wold take his settled place With Angels ens to make his glory euen Then should the name of my most gratious king And glorious god in higher tunes be sounded Of heauenlie praise then earth hath power to sing Where earth and heauen and Aungels are confoūded And soules may sing while al hearts strings are broken His praise is more thē can in praise be spokē IF I could set downe twenty thousand waies And twentie thousand thousand thousand moe To penne his highest heauenly comforts praise That will not see my spirits ouerthowe If I could thinke of nothing els but glory And in the highest highest highest height To shewe the state of that celestiall story Where Aungels wonders in their honours waite If all the powers of heauen earth would meete And all acknowledge all their powers too little To shew the smallest of his smallest sweete Yet to his title All were but a title Then since no thoughts can to his praise be raised Aboue all praises Let my God be praised While the Aungels all are singing All of glory euer springing In the grounde of high heauens graces Where all vertues haue their places Oh that my poore heart were neare them With an humble soule to heare them Then should faith in loues submission Ioying but in mercie blessing Where that sinnes are in remission Sing the ioyfull soules confessing Of her comforts high commending All in glory neuer ending But ah wretched sinfull creature How should the corrupted nature Of this wicked heart of mine Thinke vpon that loue diuine That doth tune the Aungels voice While the hoastes of heauen reioyce No the songe of deadly sorrowe In the night that hath no morrowe And their paines not eas'd not ended That haue heauenly powers offended Are more fitting to the merit Of my foule infected spirit Yet while mercie is remoouing All the sorrowes of the louing How can faith be full of blindenesse To despaire of mercies kindnesse While the hande of heauen is giuing Comfort from the euerliuing No my soule be no more sory Looke vnto that life of glory Which the grace of faith regardeth And the teares of loue rewardeth Where the soule the comfort getteth That the Aungels musicke setteth There when thou art well conducted And by heauenly grace instructed How the faithfull thoughts to fashion Of a rauisht louers passion Sing with Saints to Aungels nighest Halleluiah in the highest OH that my heart could neuer cease to sing The holy praises of my heauenly king And that my minde could think vpon no blisse But of the grace wherein his glory is And that my tongue could talke of nothing else But of the wonders of his worthinesse And that mine eye could see but where hee dwels Who is the height of vertues holinesse And that my tongue could like no other taste But of his flesh that is the spirits foode And that my soule might sweare a solemne fast For one pure droppe of his deare pretious blood That at my song the Aungels might reioyce To heare the musicke of a sinners voice HElpe cryes my hearte not frō the hellish place This wretched world nor all the wealth therein But from the God of that high heauenly grace Whose only mercie doth all glory winne Hee hee alone that sees the sinners teares Distilling from a true repentant heart And will not let him perish in those feares That make the waie to an infernall smart That onely Lord of onely life and loue Who doth forbeare forgiue and quite forget All those misdeeds that his displeasure moue While sorrowes faith is fast by mercy set Hee hee alone in spight of death and hel Blesse my poore wounded soule and all is well Emmanuell COme liue with mee and be my loue My loue my life my King my God And let mee now thy mercy prooue That long haue felt thy heauie rodde Thy heauie rodde ah woe is me A rodde of rushes t is no more Who highly for offending thee Might haue beene shutte from mercies dore But thou art hee whose glorious eye Beholdes the sorrow not the sinne Of him who doth for mercie cry While teares of faith doe fauour winne Thou dost not wish a sinners death To liue and loue is thy delight While in the blessing of thy breath Is euer day and neuer night Oh thou more faire then fairenesse is More sweete then sweetenesse can be thought More kinde then louers when they kisse That with thy death thy loue hast bought Oh truth of trueth and yet more true Then time can try or tongue can tell Whose grace and glorie still renewe In heauenly praise in spight of hell Oh power of powers aboue all power Oh constant faith for euer fast Oh onely sweete without all sower Oh endlesse ioyes that eue●last In thee my loue and but in thee Doe euer spring that euer were And at thine only pleasure bee To bee disposed euery where Oh thou that werte before what was In essence of all excellence And in thy wisdome dost surpasse The reach of knowledge quintessence Who all of nothing didst create But by thy worde and to thy will And so didst order euery state As shewes thy high supernall skill Who hauing all thinges set in frame Didst shewe what loue to man thou hadst To giue him power each thing to name And make him Lord of all thou mad'st And more then that to shewe thy loue Thou mad'st him like vnto thy selfe Till Iack an Apes of hell did prooue To make a Monkie breede an elf Oh God had that sweete grace of thine In Adam neuer beene abused Our nature then in him diuine The diuels apple had refused But ease begat such idlenesse And idle ease such wantonnesse And wantonnesse such wickednesse As wrought in him our wretchednesse Hee did forget thy goodnesse first Wee follow him and fly from thee Hee for his folly was accurst And so in iustice Lord are wee But hee with shame beheld his sinne And flewe to mercie for reliefe Whose woefull state all wee are in That to thy mercie shewe our griefe Hee stucke vnto rocke of strength That after labour gaue him ease And wee in loue doe hope at length That sorrowes teares will wrath appease Oh God thou knowest that only knowest What knowledge is and what to knowe And by thy mercie onely showest What only pleaseth the to showe That as of dust wee came at furst Vnto the dust we shall againe The belly of the world shall burst When sinne and sorrow shall be slaine A time will be when that all time Shall see his longest thread will breake When gratious loue in praises prime Shall only of thy glory speake When graues