Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	die_v	sin_n	soul_n	22,606	5	5.7136	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A16772	The Passion of a discontented minde	Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626?; Essex, Robert Devereux, Earl of, 1566-1601.; Southwell, Robert, Saint, 1561?-1595.	1601 (1601)	STC 3679.5; ESTC S2532	6,237	26

THE PASSION of a Discontented Minde LONDON Printed by V. S. for Iohn Baily and are to be sold at his shop at the doore of the office of the vi Clarks in Chancerie lane 1601 THE PASSION of a Discontented Minde FRom silent night true Register of mones From saddest soule consum'd with deepest sins From hart quite rent with sighs heuy grones My wailing Muse her wofull worke beginnes And to the world brings tunes of sad despaire Sounding nought else but sorrow griefe and care Sorrow to see my sorrowes cause augmented And yet lesse sorrowfull were my sorrowes more Griefe that my griefe with griefe is not preuented For griefe it is must ease my grieued sore Thus griefe and sorrow care's but how to grieue For griefe and sorrow must my cares releeue The wound fresh bleeding must be stancht with teares Teares cannot come vnlesse some griefe preceed Griefes come but slacke which doth increase my feares Feares lest for want of helpe I still should bleed Do what I can to lengthen my liues breath Ifteares be wanting I shall bleed to death Thou deepest Searcher of each secret thought Infuse in me thy all-affecting grace So shall my workes to good effects be brought While I peruse my vgly sinnes a space Whose staining filth so spotted hath my soule As nought will waste but teares of inward dole O that the learned Poets of this time Who in a loue-sicke line so well indite Would not consume good wit in hatefull Rime But would with care some better subiect write For if their musicke please in earthly things Well would it sound if straind with heaunly strings But woe it is to see fond worldlings vse Who most delight in things that vainest be And without feare worke Virtues fowle abuse Scorning soules rest al true piety As if they made account neuer to parte From this fraile life the pilgrimage of smart Such is the nature of our foolish kinde When practiz'd sinne hath deeply taken roote The way to penance due is hard to finde Repentance held a thing of little boote For contrite teares soules health and angels ioy Most men account a meere phantastike toy Ill working Vse deuourer of al grace The fretting moath that wasteth soules chiefe blisse The slie close thiefe that lurkes in euery place Filching by peece-meale til the whole be his How many are deceiued by thy baite T' account their sinnes as trifles of no waight O cursed custome causing mischiefe still Too long thy craft my senses hath misse-led Too long haue I bin slaue vnto thy will Too long my soule on bitter sweetes hath fed Now surfetting with thy hell poysned cates In deepe repent her former folly hates And humbly comes with sorrow-rented hart With blubbred eies and hands vprear'd to heauen To play a poore lamenting Mawdlines part That would weepe streames of blood to be forgiuen But oh I feare mine eies are drain'd so drie That though I would yet now I cannot crie If any eie therefore can spare a teare To fill the wel-springs that must wet my cheekes O let that eie to this sad feast draw neare Refuse me not my humble soule beseekes For all the teares mine eies haue euer wept Were now too little had they all bin kept I see my sinnes arraign'd before my face I see their number passe the moathes in Sunne I see that my continuance in this place Cannot be long and all that I haue done I see the Iudge before my face hath layde At whose sterne lookes all creatures are afraide If he be iust my soule condemned is And iust he is what then may be expected But banishment from euerlasting blisse To liue like cursed Caine base vile abiected He in his rage his brothers blood did spill I more vnkinde mine owne soules life doe kill O could mine eies send trickling teares amaine Neuer to cease till my eternall night Till this eye-flood his mercy might obtaine Whome my defaults haue banisht from his sight Then could I blesse my happy time of crying But ah too soone my barren springs are drying Thrise happy sinner was that blessed Saint Who though he fell with puffe of womans blast Went forth and wept with many a bitter plaint And by his teares obtained grace at last But wretched I haue falne of mine accord Tenne thousand times against the liuing Lord. Yet cannot straine one true repentant teare To gaine the blisse from which my soule is banisht My flintie heart some sorrowing doth forbeare And from my sence all true remorce is vanisht For heart and sence are cloyd with dregs of sinne And there 's no place for Grace to enter in No place deere Lord vnlesse thy goodnesse please To pitty him that worst deserues of any And in thy tender mercy grant him ease As thou tofore hast mercy shewd to many Yet none of those doe equall me in sinne Oh how may I hope mercie then to winne The traitor Iudas heire borne to perdition Who for a trifle did his Lord betray In equall doome deserueth more remission Then my defaults can challenge any way He solde him once that once for gaine was done I oftentimes yet lesse then nothing wonne The bloody minded Iewes in furie mad Vntill on Christ their cruell rage was fed In their fell anger more compassion had Then I for whome his harmelesse blood was shed Their hellish spite within a day was past My sinfull fit doth all my life time last For eu'ry stripe that he from them did take A thousand deadly sinnes haue I committed And eu'ry wound as deepe a wound did make As did the cordes wherewith my Christ was whipped Oh hateful caitife parricide most vile Thus with my sinne his pure blood to defile O sinne first parent of mans euer woe The distance large that seuers hell and heauen Senses confounder soules chiefe ouerthrow Grafted by men not by the grafter geuen Consuming canker wasting soules chiefe treasure Onely to gaine a little trifling pleasure Happy were man if sinne had neuer bin Thrise happie now if sinne he would for sake But happier farre if for his wicked sinne He would repent and hearty sorrow make Leauing this drosse and fleshly delectation To gaine in heau'n a lasting habitation There is the place wherein all sorrowes die Where Ioy exceedes all ioyes that euer were Where Angels make continuall harmony The minde set free from care distrust or feare There all receiue all ioyfull contentation Happied by that most heau'nly contemplation Now see alas the change we make for sinne In steede of heau'n hel is become our lot For blessed Saints damned fiends we euer winne For rest and freedome lasting bondage got For Ioy content eternall loue and peace Griefe dispaire hate iarres that neuer cease The worme of conscience stil attendeth on vs Telling each houre each instant we shall die And that our sinnes cannot be parted from vs But where we are thither they likewise flie Still vrging this that death wee haue deserued Because we fled from

him we should haue serued What greater sinne can touch a humane hart What hellish furie can be worse tormented What sinner liues that feeleth not a part Of this sharpe plague vnlesse he haue repented And yet Repentance surely is but vaine Without full purpose not to sinne againe And is it not then plaine follies error To couet that that brings with it contempt And makes vs liue in feare distrust and terror Hating at last the thing wee did attempt For neuer sinne did yet so pleasing taste But lustfull flesh did loathe it when t' was past Witnes my wofull soule which well can tell In hiest top of sinne 's most fresh delight Although my frailety suffred mee to dwell Yet being past I loath'd it with despight But like the swine I fed mine owne desire That being cleane stil coueteth the mire So greedy is mans beastly appetite To follow after dunghill pleasures still And feede on carrion like the rauening kite Not caring what his hungry maw dooth fill But worketh euermore his wills effect Without restraint controlement or respect O why should man that beares the stamp of heauen So much abase heauens holy will and pleasure O why was sence and reason to him giuen That in his sinne cannot containe a measure He knowes he must account for euery sinne And yet committeth sinnes that countlesse bin This to peruse deere God doth kill my soule But that thy mercy quickeneth it againe O heare me Lord in bitternesse of dole That of my sinnes do prostrate heere complaine And at thy feet with Mary knocke for grace Though wanting Maries teares to wet my face She happy sinner saw her life misse-led At sight whereof her inward hart did bleede To witnes with her outward teares were shed O blessed Saint and O most blessed deede But wretched I that see more sinnes than she Nor greeue within nor yet weepe outwardly When she had lost thy presence but one day The want was such hir heart could not sustaine But to thy tombe alone she tooke her way And there with sighs and teares she did complaine Nor from her sense once moou'd or stirr'd was shee Vntil againe she got a sight of thee But I haue lost thy presence all my dayes And still am slacke to see thee as I should My wretched soule in wicked sinne so stayes I am vnmeete to see thee though I would Yet if I could with teares thy comming tend I know I should as she finde thee my frend Teares are the key that ope the way to blisse The holy water quenching heau'ns quicke fire The attonement true twixt God and our amisse The Angels drinke the blessed Saints desire The ioy of Christ the balme of grieued hart The spring of life the ease of eu'ry sinart The second King of Israel by succession When with Vriahs wife he had offended In bitter teares be waild his great transgression And by his teares found grace and so repented He night and day in weeping did remaine I night nor day to shed one teare take paine And yet my sinnes in greatnesse and in number Farre his exceede how comes it then to passe That my repentance should so farre be vnder And graces force deere God is as it was Truth is that I although I haue more neede Do not as he so truely weepe indeede O wherfore is my steely heart so hard Why am I made of mettall vnrelenting Why is all ghostly comfort from me bard Or to what end do I deferre repenting Can lustfull flesh or flattring world perswade me That I can scape the power of him that made me No no the secret Searcher of all hearts Both sees and knowes each deede that I haue done And for each deede wil pay me home with smart No place can serue his wil decreed to shunne I should deceiue my selfe to thinke that he For sinne would punish others and not me Our first borne sire first breeder of mans thrall For one bare sinne was of perfection reft And all mankinde were banisht by his fall From Paradise and vnto sorrowe left If he for one and all for him feele paine Then for so many what should I sustaine The Angells made to attend on God in glorie Were thrust from heau'n and only for one sinne That but in thought for so recordes the Storie For which they still in lasting darkenesse bin If those once glorious thus tormented be I basest slaue what will become of me What wil become of me that not in thought In thought alone but in each worde and deed A thousand thousand deadly sinnes haue wrought And still doe worke whereat my hart doth bleed For euen now in this my sad complaining With new made sins my flesh my soule is staining O that I were remou'd to some close caue Where all alone retired from delight I might my sighes and teares vntroubled haue And neuer come in wretched worldlings sight Whose ill bewitching company still brings Deepe prouocation whence great danger springs Ill company the cause of many woes The sugred baite that hideth poysned hooke The rocke vnseene that shipwrackt soules o'rethrowes The weeping crocodile that killes with looke The readiest steppe to ruine and decay Graces confounder and helles nearest way How many soules do perish by thy guile How many men without all feare frequent Thy deadly haunts where they in pleasure smile Taking no care such dangers to preuent But liue like Belials vnbrideled or vntamed Not looking they shall for their faults be blamed Alas alas too wretched doe we liue That carelesly thus worke our owne confusion And to our willes such libertie doe giue Ay me it is the diuells meere illusion To flatter vs with such sense-pleasing traines That he thereby may take vs in his chaines This well foresaw good men of auntient time Which made them shunne th' occasions of foule sinne Knowing it was the nurse of euery crime And Syren-like would traine fond worldlings in Alluring them with shew of musickes sound Vntill on sinnes deepe shelfe their soules be drownd But he is held no sotiable man In this corrupted age that shall refuse To keepe the cursed company now and than Nay but a foole vnlesse he seeme to chuse Their fellowship and giue them highest place That vildest liue and furthest off from grace But better t is belieue me in my tryall To shun such hel-hounds factors of the Diuell And giue them leaue to grudge at your deniall Then to partake with such in sinne and euill For if that God in Iustice then should slay vs From hell and horror who alas could stay vs Good God the Iust as he himselfe hath spoken Should scarce be saued O terror vnremouable What then should they that neuer had a token Or signe of grace soules comfort most behoueable But gracelesse liu'd and all good deedes did hate What hope of them that liue in such a state O who will giue meteares that I may waile Both nights and dayes the dangers I haue past My soule my