Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	dead_a	die_v	sin_n	16,958	5	5.5972	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B02891	Deaths tryumph dash'd: or, An elegy on that faithful servant of God Master James Janeway, minister of the Gospel, who resting from his most zealous and profitable labours, fell asleep in the Lord the 12th of this instant, March 1673/4.		1674 (1674)	Wing D504; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.3[77]	1,876	1

Deaths Tryumph Dash'd or an Elegy On that Faithful Servant of God Master JAMES JANEWAY Minister of the Gospel who Resting from his most Zealous and Profitable Labours fell asleep in the Lord the 12th of this Instant March 1673 4. HOw JANEWAY Dead spare Lord oh spare thy Rod 'T will else too soon compleat our Icabod If thus thou snatch the Pastors who shall keep From Romish VVolves thy precious trembling Sheep If Night be coming whither may they stray VVhen such sure Watchmen are remov'd away VVe lost alas one JANEWAY before Oh! when shall we have Two such JANEWAYS more Men whom Heav'n fram'd and sent on purpose hither To win and bring whole Crouds of Converts thither Death's now grown Rigid and intends't should seem To make our Teachers all Conform to him E're we can dry our Big-swell'd eyes for one Tidings surprize us That Anothers Gone Hush then Elegiacks 'T is in vain you come Sleight Sorrows Roar but mighty Griefs are Dumb. Behold our troubled Hemisphere has lost Another Star whose brightness might almost Vie Lustre with the Sun whose Heaven-bred Rays Shot forth such Flames at Darkness that our days Unsoil'd with shades might hope to overthrow Hells Gates and make another Heav'n below But now our Skie is darkned this bright Star Being Ravisht hence our fainting Israels Carr Hath lost its nimblest VVheels we change our Light For gloomy Clouds and loose our Day in Night That Star's remov'd whose clear enlightned Head Gilt every Eye with Flame and often led The wandring VVisemen of the world to see The Sacred object of a bended Knee For by his zealous conduct we addrest To view a CHRIST New born in every Breast This was both his imployment and delight Oh! how like Son of Thunder would he fright A stubborn Sinner and an Earth-quake raise In guilty minds reflecting on their ways But then not for to break the Bruised Reed Like Son of Consolation he 'd proceed VVith Soveraign Remedies of Gospel-Balm To heal the wounds and such Soul-Tempests calm Thus would he woe and plead for God and then Prove no less Orator to him for men As in the early morn a sprightly Lark Springs from some Turf making the Heav'ns her mark Shoots up her self through Clouds higher and higher As if she 'd bear a part i' th Angels Quire So would he rise in Pray'r till in a trice His Soul became a Bird of Paradise If our dull faint Devotions prayers be VVe must acknowledge his an Extasie Knowledge the depth of whose unbounded main Hath been the wrack of many a curious brain And from her yet unreconciled School Hath fill'd us with so many Learned Fools Had Tutor'd him with rules that could not erre And taught him how to know himself and her Furnishing his large soul in height of measure Like a rich Store-house of divinest Treasure From whence as from a Sacred Spring did flow Fresh Oracles to let his Hearers know A way to Glory and to let them see That way to Glory was to walk as He Thus lab'ring as Heav'ns Agent here below For others good His wasted Spirits flow His Mortal Life he freely spent that we Might gain a Life of Immortality Still Preaching VVriting every way he tryes To Court the VVorld from endless miseries Admonishes the Old instructs the Young And teaches Children to speak Sions Tongue But now his painful labours all are o're Methinks I see him welcom'd at Heaven's door By Crouds of Saints sent there by him before Hush then you Sighs forbear you flowing Tears You storms and showrs of Nature stop your Ears Let us no more with broken grov'ling numbers Disturb his Rest now rock'd in sacred slumbers Complaints are vain subscribe to Heaven's will VVhen God speaks t is Mans duty to be still He 's Dead let 's imitate his Life that we Dying like him may Live Eternally And Glorifie that God whose dying Breath Made Man whom Death had Conquer'd Conquer Death The Grave 's our Common and our truest Home A House of Clay best fits a Guest of Loam Death 's but the good mans sleep for as our eyes VVe close each night at Bed in hope to Rise So should we Dye for when the Trump doth blow VVe shall as easily awake we know And as we after sleep our Bodies find More fresh in strength and chearfully inclin'd So after Death our Flesh scatter'd and dry'd Shall rise Immortal and more purify'd This is our Port this is Sins perfect Cure Till Lodg'd within a Grave there 's none secure AN EPITAPH ASk you why so many a Tear Bursts forth I le tell you in your Ear Compel me not to speak aloud Death would then grow too too proud Eys that cannot vent a Tear Forbear to ask you may not hear Gentle Hearts that overflow Have only Priviledge to know In these Sacred Ashes then Know Reader that a man of men Lies cover'd and Eternal Glory Makes dear mention of his story Nature when she gave him birth Open'd her Treasures to the Earth Put forth the quintessence of merit Quickned with a higher spirit Rare was his Life his latest breath Saw and scorn'd and Conquer'd Death Thankless Reader never more Urge a why thus tears runs o're When you saw so high a Tyde You might have known JANEWAY dy'd LONDON Printed in the Year 1674.