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	mean_v	soul_n	5,173	5	5.5842	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A29823	Sacred poems, or, Briefe meditations, of the day in generall and of all the dayes in the weeke	Browne, Edward.; Du Bartas, Guillaume de Salluste, seigneur, 1544-1590. Sepmaine. English.; Sylvester, Josuah, 1563-1618.	1641 (1641)	Wing B5106; ESTC R12452	45,038	82

fur nay they 're not loath To take the Excrements of the poore worme Which they into brave Silke and Sattin turne Then doe they begge of fish Pearle for the Neck And find in Sea-sands pretious stones to deck Their sinfull bodies then they take great paines To Digg and delve in Earth for Golden gaines And when they have this borrowed Treasure got About the streets they jet and frisk and trot Provoking others thus to looke on them Deeming themselves better than other men But greater folly than this is not knowne For one to boast of that is not his owne Yet thus have I too oft done and was glad When I brave Cloths upon my body had Therefore I 'll now put off this Pedlers pack Which all this day hath burden'd thus my back Could I as quickly put off my foule sin And in new Robes of Grace my Soule put in As I can cast these filthy Rags aside That from mens eyes my sinfull shame doth hide Then should I be receiv'd a welcome Ghest Of Christ my Saviour to his glorious feast Where Angells Patriarkes and Prophets old Apostles Martyrs and the Saints doe hold A feast of Joy thus should I then be blest In Robes of Glory in eternall Rest Of Sleepe SLeepe is the Image and Picture of Death In which wee seeme sencelesse and voyd of breath The Bed seemes as the Grave in which we lay Our bodyes mould which turnes to dust and Clay And to the Saints death 's truly but a sleepe That doth refresh their minds and safely keepe Their wearyed Soules which when they were awake I meane alive very great paines did take To serve the Lord for which they hated were By wicked men who bended all their care To persecute oppresse and doe them wrong Therefore they doe greatly desire and long To be dissolved and to be with Christ In whom their joy and quiet doth consist Besides Christ warmed hath the earths cold bed For his beloved when he laid his head To rest three dayes therein and hath oft cald Death but a sleepe once to a Jew enthrall'd Foure dayes in grave then did he groan and weepe And said friend Lazarus doth sweetly sleepe And of the Ruler Iayrus his dead daughter He said shee slept which moved some to laughter And holy Martyres went as cheerefully To take their death as in Rose beds to ly Because they knew death to be but a sleepe Which doth refresh their Soules and bodies keepe Safe and unhurt unto that glorious day When they shall rise to live with Christ foray But unto wicked men death is a Terrour Which to remember fills their Soules with horrour If then the thought of death their minds affright How will they be amaz'd to feele his might When he doth strike them with his deadly Dart How loth will then the Soule from body part Because like friends they liv'd on Earth in Joy Well clad well fed and felt not much annoy Now if a man to mortifie one part Of his weake body In such deadly smart Is put unto that makes him groane and cry Oh then what will be the great misery For him to suffer when through every limb He feeles deaths pangs fiercely assayling him First from extreame parts Fingers Feet and Toes Then Leggs and Armes and so in order goes Through every Joynt Veine Muscle Sinew Bone Till at the heart it rests and there alone Like a besiedged Prince his Soule lookes out For helpe of friends whom shee did little doubt Would so forsake her in her extreame need To wit Youth Physick helplesse friends indeed Then doth she greatly feare tremble and quake Expecting hourely when the fiend will take Her wretched selfe And then when shee doth see The flattring Doctor parted with his fee The weeping of his wife the losse of all Jewells and brave apparell that 's not small Griefe and vexation to his wretched mind That all his wealth he so must leave behind Which hee did gather with such griefe and ca●e To serve the Lord he had no time to spare And lastly now to thinke what will become Of Soule and body how the noysome worme Serpents and Vermin shall take for their food That dainty body which he thought too good To tread on earth or to come in the aire This will almost drive him into despaire But when he thinks his Soule must come before Hearts searching Judge and when he sees the score Of his great sins which his own conscience showes And hath not where to pay for well hee knowes He did not show his faith by living well And therefore doth deserve nothing but hell Which when the Soule doth thinke on slavish feare In wicked men doe bring them to despaire Which causeth them to fret to howle and cry To thinke how blisse they lost in hell they 'll lye For evermore in torments past expression But all this while I have made a digression From what I did intend at first to write It seemes I am misled by darksome night Of bad mens deaths in which they cannot sleepe For hellish fiends their Soules awake doe keepe Therefore I 'll pray to God that he may keepe My Soule and body so that I may sleepe In rest and peace in bed as in my grave And that in Mercy hee would freely save Both Soule and body to that blessed day Of resurrection that in heav'n alway I may with Saints and Angells shine as bright As doth the Sun and praise God day and night Of the weeke THe wisedome of the Lord did first compose The week into seav'n dayes as Moses showes Thereby to teach us how to spend our time In Meditation of his workes divine And in three weekes God hath his great workes showne The first is of the worlds creation In which the power and might of God appeares The next is preservation in the yeares And ages since till this same very houre And the third weeke doth show his love and power In the Redemption of all-fallen mankind But I am weake in body dull in minde So that not one of these I can declare As is befitting for the best that are May come farre short in such a sacred theame Therefore I onely doe intend and meane To shew each sev'rall dayes denomination And therein touch the workes of Gods creation And in this place I now will briefely speake Of mans fraile life in Davids generall weeke For he divides the life of Mortall men Into sev'n parts till threescore yeares and ten And therein I will show how pretious time Is vainely spent each age in one short Rime The first tenne yeares man is a harmelesse child And as a Lamb his life is meeke and milde But after that Goat-like he skips and Joyes In foolish vanities and Idle toyes And so till thirty man 's an untam'd Colt Heady and from all goodnes doth revolt And untill forty hee 's a sturdy Bull His limbes are strong with blood his veines are full But after that his courage

declare For if when God made fire for our delight It is so fierce there 's none would if he might Gaine a whole Kingdome hold his hand therein But for one houre Oh then what paine is in The fire of hell To which if I compare The fire we have it seemes but painted ayre Ours is for comfort that is to torment Ours must be fed else of it selfe it 's spent That needs no fuell but doth burne for ay Ours giveth light and shines as bright as day That 's alwayes darke and is in its right place Ours ever shifts and doth ascend apace Ours doth consume and rids quicke out of paine That consumes not once there ne'r out againe Our's soone extinct that never doth abate H●s heat And yet as I did show of late And as Christ saith they shall gnash teeth and shake For very cold will make their bones to quake And as that fire is of such wondrous might So doth that darknesse farre exceed our night Now could I shew the universall paines And all th' eternall torture there remaines How Cerberus doth strongly keepe hels dore That none comes out but may come in the more And how that Charon with dread horror grim Over the Stigian lake his boat makes swim Fild full of soules whom he hath got off shore O'r Sulphry Stix and makes them cry and rore I should but all this while shew paine of sense But there 's great dammage in lost excellence Which is as great as learned men doe show As paine of sense But yet I doe not know How to describe the losse of that bleft sight Of Gods bright glory in celestiall light At thought whereof the damned have a worme Which on their conscience gnawes and makes them mourne And when they thinke of that same heavenly light That they have lost this worme doth give a bite Which causeth them to teare their flesh and haire And if they could themselves in pieces teare Then doe they wish for mountaines hills and rocks To fall upon them with such pondrous knocks That they might kill them which when they deny They doe begin to howle lament and cry And marvell saying what hath our pride got What profit hath glory of riches brought How easily might we have scap'd this place By living well and seeking helpe of grace Oh! if on earth we now could live againe We would feare God alone and count as vaine All other things in the vast worlds round ball And Gods bright glory should be all in all And thus they do repent without amends And still their paine begins and never ends Then cease your talke of Pluto's darksome den That 's but the idle fantasie of men But this is true which in Gods word is showne That hellish paines to mortall man 's not knowne Yet I doe wonder that such learned skill Should so divinely drop from heathens quill For as in Pluto's cave they well have showne Hels torments as in Scripture is made knowne So heavenly blisse in Iupiters high court And in Elizium fields they make report In their prophanest fabled histories By Hercules they shew Christs victories Long before Christ was borne which makes me muse That they should know almost as much as Jewes Who were Gods chosen but where doe I goe This in some other place I meane to show And now that I am thus come out of hell Safe and unhurt from all those furies fell In the last place I did intend to write Of the great benefits we have by night But my dull Muse grew barren thin and bare I therefore borowed his whose fruits are rare ' The night to temper dayes exceeding drought ' Moystens our ayre and makes our earth to sprout ' The night is she that all our travels caseth ' Buries our cares and all our griefes appeaseth ' The night is she that with her sable wing ' In gloomy darknesse hushing every thing ' Through all the world dumb silence doth distill ' And wearyed bones with quiet sleepe doth fill ' Sweet night without thee without thee alas 'Our life were loathsome even a hell to passe ' For outward paines and inward passions still ' With thousand deaths would soule and body kill ' Oh Night thou pullest the proud maske away ' Wherewith vaine actors in this worlds great play ' By day disguise them for no difference ' Night makes betweene the Peasant and the Prince ' The poore the rich the Prisoner and the Judge ' The foule and faire the Master and the drudge ' The foole and wise Barbarian and the Greeke ' For Night 's black Mantle covers all alike ' He that condemn'd for some notorious vice ' Seekes in the Mines the Baites of Avarice ' Or swelting at the furnace fineth bright 'Our Soules dire sulphur ●esteth yet at night ' Hee that still stooping tugges against the Tide ' His laden barge alongst a Rivers side ' And filling shoares with shouts doth melt him quite ' Upon his Pallat resteth yet at night ' He that in Summer in extreamest heat ' Scorched all day in his owne scalding sweat ' Shaves with keene Syth the glory and delight ' Of motly Meddowes resteth yet at night ' And in the Armes of his deare Pheere forgoes ' All former troubles and all former woes ' Onely the learned Sisters sacred Minions ' While silent night under her sable Pinions ' Folds all the world with painlesse paine they tread 'A sacred path that to the heav'ns doth lead ' And higher then the heav'ns their Readers raise ' Upon the wings of their immortall layes And now me thinks I heare the clock doth chime Which doth informe me that it is high time Mee to uncloth and so to goe to bed For this dayes worke hath troubled my weak head Of unclothing HOw vaine a thing it is to vant in Pride Of brave Apparell may be quickly tride For had old Adam never fallen from Blisse Of use of Cloaths wee nere had had much misse And he devis'd but leaves to hide the shame Which on himselfe by his foule folly came And God himselfe when hee did undertake Some brave apparell for poore man to make To hide his shame his liv'ry was but skin Of some poore beast this Adams sin did win Wherefore the man that of brave Cloths is proud Doth as a Begger with a voyce most loud Extoll and magnifie his Rotten Rags Which hide his sores and set them forth as flaggs For all to gaze at and to wonder why Hee should set out his stincking Bravery Wherefore the Godly alwayes did not care What Clothes upon their bodies they did beare So it would keepe them from the heat and cold They were content and I doe read of old The Saints Apparell they arrayed were Was made of Goats skin and of Cammells haire But men are now so curious for their back They 'll Rob and spoyle all creatures ere they 'll lack From one they 'll take his wooll to make them cloth From others skin and