Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	life_n	lord_n	sin_n	21,606	5	4.7055	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B03463	The good Christians complaint; or, Poor charity's languishing lamentation in a late long and tedious winter; seeing pride, envy, hatred, malice, with many other vices, nourish'd like darlings in the bosome of mankind; whilst love and mercy, truth and charity, did unregarded wander like strange pilgrims. Concluding with a seasonable exhortation to a Christian life. / Licensed according to order.		1692 (1692)	Wing G1040; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.2[196]	2,051	1

The GOOD CHRISTIANS Complaint OR Poor CHARITY 's Languishing Lamentation in a late long and tedious Winter Seeing Pride Envy Hatred Malice with many other Vices Nourish'd like Darlings in the Bosome of Mankind whilst Love and Mercy Truth and Chartity did unregarded Wander like strange Pilgrims Concluding with a Seasonable Exhortation to a Christian Life Licensed according to Order AS Truth was passing through the open Street It was his chance poor Charity to meet Distressed in the bitter Frost and Snow And for Relief she knew not where to go Grief sate Enthron'd between her careful Brow● For there was few that wou'd her Cause espouse Her Cheeks was nipp'd by sharp and freezing Wind She sighing said Is all the World unkind Where are those Ancients that were wont to be Such Benefactors to poor Charity What are they dead and left none of their Race That are right willing to supply their place I find the Widow and the Fatherless With Grief and Sorrow languish in distress While those that vaunt in rich Embroider'd Gold Will not look down their sorrows to behold Those who their lives in wanton pleasures lead If they behold a Man who stands in need Of present help his Grief they will not mind O this we do by sad experience find The Youthful Gallant ought to Honour Age The hoary Head with Visage Grave and Sage But yet instead of this some swell with Pride And poor decripid Age scorn and deride Instead of giving them a due Respect On their gray Hairs Youth often will reflect And commonly reviling Language give As if on Earth they were not fit to live Instead of Love which ought to rule and reign Just cause we have of Malice to complain Amongst us here Revenge is sweet we find To such as those who are to Wrath inclin'd One Neighbour hates to see another Thrive Behold how carefull are they to contrive By what slye means they may their Ruine prove And this is all for want of Christian Love Some Men before they 'll pardon an Offence Will seek Revenge tho' at a large Expence But if the Lord of Love was so severe What would become of sinful Mortals here If Charity amongst the Sons of Men Was freely entertain'd how happy then Would Christians be they 'd readily forgive All Wrongs and here in Love and Friendship live But Vice instead of Vertues Men receive Which causes Charity to sigh and grieve And while she utters forth her Mournful Cries Distilled Tears drop from her melting Eyes To see how Folly like a Darling dear Is hugg'd embrac'd and likewise cherisht here Close in the very Bosome of Mankind Whilst Vertue can no Habitation find In Drunkenness some Persons take delight With quaffing Cups in Taverns day and night Thus they their Wealth in lawless pleasures spend While to the Poor they 'll neither give nor lend Alas we often hear the Drunkard boast Who can continue longest swallow most But it were better we cou'd hear them say That for their Sins they love to Fast and Pray For fear the Lord in wrath shou'd Vengeance take For why the best of Men may chance to break His just Commands but how much more does he Who drowns his Soul in floods of Infamy That very Sin sends thousands to the Grave Their Lives the Learned Doctors cannot save Yet sure I am such Deaths would never be If Men had for themselves but Charity Likewise the Sin of Pride does here bear sway Who Peacock-like does gaudy Plumes display And at a Blush seems beautiful and fair Yet to the World she proves a fatal Snare Some Persons they to Pride are so inclin'd That night and day there 's nothing else they mind That time that should be spent in Righteousness They here bestow to prank a Modish Dress Forgetting that they are but Dust and Clay Who notwithstanding all their Garments Gay Must stoop to Death and in a Grave he laid Where they shall soon a Feast for Worms be made Then what becomes of Grandieur State and Pride And all the Glories of the World beside They lye within the limits of a Shroud Then why should Man poor Mortal Man be Proud Yet some against the Rules of solid Sense Will nourish Pride there 's none shall them convince And many pounds on it will spend before They'd give one single Penny to the Poor The very painted Harlot which they meet At ev'ry crick and corner of the Street They will supply with Gold and Silver bright Meerly for the leud pleasures of the Night But see does not her Footsteps lead to Death Is there not more than Poison in her breath To taint thy Soul with the false shows of Love Until she does thy utter Ruin prove Those that has run this loose perfidious Race Has met with Death in shame and sad disgrace And did with melting Dying Tears declare That Harlots fond allurements brought them there Thus Varlets often bitterly complain That crying sins has prov'd their fatal bare But who is he that ever did repent That he in Righteousness his days had spent Complaining he had led too strict a Life Too free from Malice Envy Spleen and Strife Too Sober likewise too Religious here Or that a Conscience had been kept too clear No these are Comforts of a Dying Bed VVhen we can call to mind how we have led A Life on Earth season'd with Christian Grace VVhich will conduct us to a resting place For this vain World with grief flows like a flood Here 's little else but Wars and shedding Blood Contending still for Superority This is for want of Love and Charity If we would War and lasting Glory win We must like Christian Souldiers Conquer Sin The greatest Enemy to all Mankind So shall we then Eternal Glory find LONDON Printed for P. Brooksby J. Deacon J. Blare and J. Back 1692.