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death_n great_a see_v sin_n 6,414 5 4.5914 4 false
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A17453 Londons vacation, and the countries tearme. Or, A lamentable relation of severall remarkable passages which it hath pleased the Lord to shew on severall persons both in London, and the country in this present visitation, 1636. with the number of those thay dyed at London and Newcastle, this present yeare. With new additions. By H.C.; Londons vacation, and the countries tearme. Crouch, Humphrey, fl. 1635-1671. 1637 (1637) STC 4274; ESTC S117070 7,887 26

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the plague did dye And all the rest that had no hand in it Escapt the plague who had more grace and wit Thus covetousnesse that ne're did good to any Was here you see the enemy of a many Lord keep our hearts from filthy avarice Let 's live content and make us truly wise Of one that lost in his travell two ●ands wrapt in a napkin ONe lost two bands wrapt in a napkin faire A woman passed by as I do heare Her sonne and daughter as I understand Was with her unto whom she gave command By any meanes not to take up those bands Lest with those things they should infect their hands Her son obey'd her voyce but yet her daughter Willing to have those things came slowly after And with her foot did spurn along these bands As being afraid to touch them with her hands Vntill she came unto a poole of water And then she washt them cleane and followed after Of one that lay unburied foure dayes after he was dead being of the sicknesse A Certain man lay dead as it is said Few miles from London that made the towne afraid Foure dayes above the ground this man did lye Vnburied t is reported certainly To bury him no man durst be so bold Or lay his carkasse in an earthly mould Till with the sight of him they were opprest And then one being wiser then the rest Did tell the Masters of the Parish this To send to London it were not amisse For foure stout bearers and we shall be rid Of this annoyance so it seemes they did So he was buried and the men well paid For burying him that made them all afraid Thus in the Countrey City great and small Time death and sicknes makes the stoutest fall The Belmans call on Thursday morning THis day the weekly Bils come out To put the people out of doubt How many of the Plague do dye We summe them up most carefully But oh if our transgressions all Both how we sinne and how we fall God should take notice what they are Where should we sinfull men appear● We look upon the punishment But not upon the cause 't is sent Remove the cause and you shall see The Plague shall soon removed be Vpon a Gentleman full of the Tokens in Woods-Close that lay there two days and afterwards dyed A Gentleman finding himself not well Walk't into th' fields neer unto Clerkenwell Finding himself diseas'd he him betook Into the fields and company forsook And in Woods-close he lay with wofull heart Grieving for sin which is the cause of smart He there upon the straw did humbly pray Having the Tokens on him as some say Most ardently unto the King of heaven That he of all his sinnes might be forgiven He marked was for death God shew'd him he Within this world had not long time to be Lord we are not worthy that same time to know When death shall summon us from hence to go Good God inable us to dye well then That we may live in heaven with perfect men Vpon a man and his wife going into the Country to visit their friends in this Visitation and their entertainment on the way AN honest Citizen with 's loving wife Into the Countrey went to save their life As they late fear'd in London should be lost But note how they for't on the way were crost They came at night unto their journies end And for their money did expect a friend To finde 'i th Countrey but it prov'd not so For they i' th cage to lodge were forc't to go Or lye i' th street this choice was put to them They must be rul'd by law or law contemn They lay i' th Cage and glad to have fresh straw And when as morning came that light they saw The Constable dischar'd their lodgings hire With these same words I 'le set your beds on fire Londons Lord have mercy upon us Let all men consider both old men and yong They c●nnot live ever although they live long Then sit down in sorrow sigh sob and relent Stay n●t till to morrow before ye repent LOok on thy soul defilde with sinne Faire London look what thou hast done Gods high displeasure thou dost winne For thy offences every one If Ninevie like thou pray and fast And to the Lord dost cry and call He le blesse thee though thy doores be crost With Lord have mercy upon us all The plague alas awo is me Like fiery Serpents bites us sore The brasen Serpent must we see I meane our Christ whom we adore Our Saviour deare whose ●i●e was lost To ●ree us from eternall thr●ll Will blesse us though our doores be crost With Lord have mercy on us all Pride now doth overwhelme the land And wickednesse doth much abound Which makes the Lord stretch forth his hand Our strange inventions to confound ●or now we see unto our cost Our great transgressions are not small Whe●efore alas our doores are crost With Lord have mercie on us all Let drunkards now their cups forsake That swallow down the dregs of sinne Let soule blasphemers stand and quake For their misdeeds that they have done For we are with afflictions tost And sorrow doth to us befall And now behold our doores are crost With Lord have mercy on us all You that luscivious lives have led Imbracing fornication still That sleep upon a sinfull bed Your wicked fancies to fulfill Those vaniti● that you love most Bring horror death and deadly thrall And now alas our doores are crost With Lord have mercy on us all Let him that doth his brother hate Like Cain that kild his mothers sonne Repent before it be too late For his misdeeds that he ha●h done For sorrow is landed on our c●●st Our honey is turn'd to bitter gall And through 〈◊〉 sin 〈◊〉 d●res ●re crost With Lord have mercy on us all 〈◊〉 f●ll d●w● 〈…〉 London 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 aud con●●si● 〈◊〉 you shames 〈◊〉 our pri●de you● 〈…〉 〈◊〉 ye in sinne are almost 〈◊〉 Th● 〈◊〉 on our knees down fall 〈…〉 our doores 〈…〉 With Lord have mercy on us all Y●u 〈◊〉 lots and you st●umpe●s 〈◊〉 V●in glorious in your strange attire Whose hearts in sin are much imbrewd Repent with speed I you desire For sinne brings sadnesse to our coast Sinne c●used I●sabell to fall And for our sinnes our doores are crost With Lord have mercy on us all We 〈…〉 every street But 〈…〉 us we have 〈◊〉 slain 〈…〉 shall with destruction meet 〈◊〉 ●ednesse in us doth ●aign● 〈◊〉 in sinne our selves do boast O●● joying at anothers fall 〈◊〉 herefore ●ow our doores are cr●st 〈◊〉 Lord have mercy on us all We clean● 〈◊〉 place from noy some smell We strive ●o put 〈…〉 We 〈◊〉 our 〈◊〉 where we do dwell We ●●●p our 〈◊〉 s●weet and faire The while our souls in sinne are lost Whi●●● the 〈◊〉 our doores are crost In stead of musk and sweet perfumes We smel 〈◊〉 Wormwood and to Rue For to ●ecure us from our ●ombes Yet de●th will claime 〈…〉 We are diss●●'d like W●●te 〈…〉 When Phoebus sunshine bea●●● 〈…〉 ●all And death we see our doores hath crost With Lord have mercy on us all Runne through the 〈◊〉 with sighs groanes In Golgotha sit and 〈…〉 The great destroy 〈…〉 bones Pale death 〈…〉 like doth raigne He can destroy a mighty 〈◊〉 Yea crowned Kings he 〈◊〉 to fall And by his hand our doo●●● are crost With Lord have mercy on us all Have mercy Lord to thee we cry We for our sinnes are grieved sore Great God of all eternity Our former follies we deplore Though we through sinne offend thee most Our God thou art and ever shall Oh blesse us though our doores be crost With Lord have mercy on us all FINIS