Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
|
ID |
Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
Words |
Pages |
|
A07937
|
The complaint of a Christian soule Containing certaine remedies and comforts against the trouble and conflict of conscience. Newlie written in meter.
|
Muschet, George, poet.
|
1610
(1610)
|
STC 18307; ESTC S119581
|
8,541
|
24
|
trouble of a wakned conscience not onely accused but convicted of her persewers and broght to the straite farther nor the scaffold even almost to the doore of the graue by the rememberance of sin In the other part there is adjoind althogh not separately by it selfe but mixtly throgh the whole some speciall remedies for the most diseased soule and some medicens equivalent for the farrest dijected conscience and some salues very necessarie for that spirituail palsie quhilk if it be rightly applyed will not onely banish all present feare of death but even that quhilk no other Phisick can afford it will furnishe perpetuall health to the soule and leaue the minde so at ease that no inconvenient how great so ever shall be able heereafter to ty the man to the bed This is the summe Christian Reader and albeit it be not so ripely digested nor vttered with such grace as he ought to haue who lets any thing go from him to the censure of this age yet impudencie hes so prevailde with me for the time and a care to do good with my small talent did so continually push my lukles muse that I could finde no rest in silence But as Michall did laugh when David did dance so I know some Michals will scorne at my singing and yet I hope otherwaies to be welcomed of some for if any good Davids be in this land there I shall be harbored because this is a song whereat Davids should be delyted So not caring for Michals taunting nor Rabschek as railings nor Ischmaels scofs because it is not with such I craue to be mirrie neither with them to communicate our spirituall melodie to the well effected Christian who giues lodging to the Hebrew Harpes and who intertaines the musicall instruments of Sion I direct this Ballad to be set vpon their strings to be played in their Palaces and to be sung in their Innes knowing this one that if the pleasantnes do not delite you the long somnes shall not wearie you And if all be not so well ordered as you merite worthie Reader nor so Poeticallie composed as the writer wolde wishe let my want be countervailed by my good will and when better things shall be offered you shall not lacke Fair well THE COMPLAINT OF A CHRISTIAN SOVLE WOulde God I had such accesse to thy face As of before when I thy favour fande Would God my soule were so indewed with grace That I might liue as thy worde doth command Then should my life for ever preach thy praise My lippes should found thy mercies manifold Much should I scorne for to be one of these Whom Sathan sin death hell or worldlings wold But ah my wittes can not so far aspyre My senslesse heart is ever hardened so That while thy spirit in me should haue impyre Sin raignes to death Rom. 6. that all my weils doe go Thus ere I liue I rather chuse to die And die I dare not for my great trespasse Except in death thy sonne should piâ—â—e me And wash my soule while it be cleane as glasse Psal 51. Sinnes great deceate vnto the world is knowne By olde experience and by practise late And I poore wretch am daylie overthrowne And spoilde by sinnes which conscience doth repeate Her glittring shades and her allurements strange Moude me to yeelde and did me captiue take And therefore iustlie may the Lord revenge To my great greefe and everlasting wracke My great offences if I should expresse I know large scrolles could not the same contene And neither are my privie falts the lesse But much more frequent in my life hes bene My false affection and my corrupt will Hath sold my soule to everie sort of sinne And this fraile flesh conspyring ay my ill Lettes suithing fancies all my freedome win Thus can I never to the heavens approch So much infect with everie blemish thing No no I haue not boldnes in so much Once to beholde thy countenance bening For oh the vylenes of my great trespas Wrappes me in chaines of darke eternall cair And I forgot how sweete thy presence was My lights are darke my eyes sees life na mair And so it skilles not what my sinnes haue beene I cease t' abridge much more to finde them out For if my lesser faultines were seene I should be odious all the world throughout Therefore with David I mon rather wine My sinnes were covered and my slippes forget Psal 32. That my perversnes and my deeds amisse Quench not the courage that should mercie get For if thy goodnes doe deny releefe Falne are my hopes like widdring leafes to ground None can expresse the agonie and greefe Which in my conscience daylie does abound For oh my sinnes vnto the heavens are gone My soule to banish from that pleasant place Yea that quhilks more my life is almost done And wrakt by that perturber of my peace Thogh this be much it is not all my we But heere the greefs quhilk doe me most annoy That I remember how my God was so My light my loue my life my hope my joy And to haue sind against so fair a face O it wolde crushe a world of soules in care And I who liud in sin so long a space Except thou help must die into dispare But thogh my lukles life hes ay bene such As did transgres the limits of thy law Yet my offences are not halfe so much But to thy servant thou may mercy shew For nons cast off but such as haits thy Name And none do perish but who dies perverse None dies to torment but who liues in shame Bad life brings death and does all joys disperse Such am I not with all my strength I loue thee And my perversnes I sinceerely hate I loath my sinfull life and longs to prooue thee Sweete kinde and gratious to my poore estate My sinnes are great but heere my comforts haill Thou knowst that which I would not that I do And yet not I but my corruptions faill And thus I 'am sinfull all the worlde vnto But oh my spirit doth sorrow for my sin Althogh my fragile flesh be frighted so My soule doth long to see the dayes begin That my affection from the world should go Iude My former walking I abhorre so much The coat that 's spotted with the flesh I hate Yea I disdaine the members made me such And loathes my selfe that I was so ingrate But thogh I doe bewaile my sinnes eachone And all my crooked wayes with teares lament And thogh I smart for that great evill that 's done While I sinceerely for my sinnes repent Yet am I ever troubled and dismaide Because my God hath hid his gracious face Sathan rejoices that I am affraide And willes me never looke for anie grace Thus am I humbled but too much cast downe And sees my sinnes but in a fearefull glasse This sight willes meto th'vncouth land be bowne And such strong charge doth all my strength surpasse Doth thus my