Selected quad for the lemma: earth_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
earth_n	king_n	praise_n	sing_v	9,619	5	10.4865	5	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A16797	The soules heavenly exercise set downe in diuerse godly meditations, both prose and verse, by Nicholas Breton gent	Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626?	1613 (1613)	STC 3700.5; ESTC S113342	21,730	172

my God destroy The scorners of his word O that my heart coulde hit vpon a straine Would strike the musick of my soules desire Or that my soule could find that sacred vaine That sets the consort of the Angels quire Or that that spirit or especiall grace That cannot stoupe beneath the state of heauē Within my soule wold take his settled place With Angels ens to make his glory euen Then should the name of my most gratious king And glorious god in higher tunes be sounded Of heauenlie praise then earth hath power to sing Where earth and heauen and Aungels are confoūded And soules may sing while al hearts strings are broken His praise is more thē can in praise be spokē IF I could set downe twenty thousand waies And twentie thousand thousand thousand moe To penne his highest heauenly comforts praise That will not see my spirits ouerthowe If I could thinke of nothing els but glory And in the highest highest highest height To shewe the state of that celestiall story Where Aungels wonders in their honours waite If all the powers of heauen earth would meete And all acknowledge all their powers too little To shew the smallest of his smallest sweete Yet to his title All were but a title Then since no thoughts can to his praise be raised Aboue all praises Let my God be praised While the Aungels all are singing All of glory euer springing In the grounde of high heauens graces Where all vertues haue their places Oh that my poore heart were neare them With an humble soule to heare them Then should faith in loues submission Ioying but in mercie blessing Where that sinnes are in remission Sing the ioyfull soules confessing Of her comforts high commending All in glory neuer ending But ah wretched sinfull creature How should the corrupted nature Of this wicked heart of mine Thinke vpon that loue diuine That doth tune the Aungels voice While the hoastes of heauen reioyce No the songe of deadly sorrowe In the night that hath no morrowe And their paines not eas'd not ended That haue heauenly powers offended Are more fitting to the merit Of my foule infected spirit Yet while mercie is remoouing All the sorrowes of the louing How can faith be full of blindenesse To despaire of mercies kindnesse While the hande of heauen is giuing Comfort from the euerliuing No my soule be no more sory Looke vnto that life of glory Which the grace of faith regardeth And the teares of loue rewardeth Where the soule the comfort getteth That the Aungels musicke setteth There when thou art well conducted And by heauenly grace instructed How the faithfull thoughts to fashion Of a rauisht louers passion Sing with Saints to Aungels nighest Halleluiah in the highest OH that my heart could neuer cease to sing The holy praises of my heauenly king And that my minde could think vpon no blisse But of the grace wherein his glory is And that my tongue could talke of nothing else But of the wonders of his worthinesse And that mine eye could see but where hee dwels Who is the height of vertues holinesse And that my tongue could like no other taste But of his flesh that is the spirits foode And that my soule might sweare a solemne fast For one pure droppe of his deare pretious blood That at my song the Aungels might reioyce To heare the musicke of a sinners voice HElpe cryes my hearte not frō the hellish place This wretched world nor all the wealth therein But from the God of that high heauenly grace Whose only mercie doth all glory winne Hee hee alone that sees the sinners teares Distilling from a true repentant heart And will not let him perish in those feares That make the waie to an infernall smart That onely Lord of onely life and loue Who doth forbeare forgiue and quite forget All those misdeeds that his displeasure moue While sorrowes faith is fast by mercy set Hee hee alone in spight of death and hel Blesse my poore wounded soule and all is well Emmanuell COme liue with mee and be my loue My loue my life my King my God And let mee now thy mercy prooue That long haue felt thy heauie rodde Thy heauie rodde ah woe is me A rodde of rushes t is no more Who highly for offending thee Might haue beene shutte from mercies dore But thou art hee whose glorious eye Beholdes the sorrow not the sinne Of him who doth for mercie cry While teares of faith doe fauour winne Thou dost not wish a sinners death To liue and loue is thy delight While in the blessing of thy breath Is euer day and neuer night Oh thou more faire then fairenesse is More sweete then sweetenesse can be thought More kinde then louers when they kisse That with thy death thy loue hast bought Oh truth of trueth and yet more true Then time can try or tongue can tell Whose grace and glorie still renewe In heauenly praise in spight of hell Oh power of powers aboue all power Oh constant faith for euer fast Oh onely sweete without all sower Oh endlesse ioyes that eue●last In thee my loue and but in thee Doe euer spring that euer were And at thine only pleasure bee To bee disposed euery where Oh thou that werte before what was In essence of all excellence And in thy wisdome dost surpasse The reach of knowledge quintessence Who all of nothing didst create But by thy worde and to thy will And so didst order euery state As shewes thy high supernall skill Who hauing all thinges set in frame Didst shewe what loue to man thou hadst To giue him power each thing to name And make him Lord of all thou mad'st And more then that to shewe thy loue Thou mad'st him like vnto thy selfe Till Iack an Apes of hell did prooue To make a Monkie breede an elf Oh God had that sweete grace of thine In Adam neuer beene abused Our nature then in him diuine The diuels apple had refused But ease begat such idlenesse And idle ease such wantonnesse And wantonnesse such wickednesse As wrought in him our wretchednesse Hee did forget thy goodnesse first Wee follow him and fly from thee Hee for his folly was accurst And so in iustice Lord are wee But hee with shame beheld his sinne And flewe to mercie for reliefe Whose woefull state all wee are in That to thy mercie shewe our griefe Hee stucke vnto rocke of strength That after labour gaue him ease And wee in loue doe hope at length That sorrowes teares will wrath appease Oh God thou knowest that only knowest What knowledge is and what to knowe And by thy mercie onely showest What only pleaseth the to showe That as of dust wee came at furst Vnto the dust we shall againe The belly of the world shall burst When sinne and sorrow shall be slaine A time will be when that all time Shall see his longest thread will breake When gratious loue in praises prime Shall only of thy glory speake When graues

shall ope and bodies rise And hell shall shake and fiendes shall roare And soules ascende vnto the skies To sing thy glory euermore And oh that that sweete time were come That Saints and Aungels might accord While earth and hell are striken dumbe To sing thine onely glory Lord. For here alas While here wee liue Or rather die by hurt of sinne The pleasures that The world doth giue Doe but the way to hell beginne Where by abundance growes excesse And so forgetfulnesse of grace Or else by want so great distresse As brings the soule in desperate case Which while the heart tormented stands In helpelesse cares calamitie Helde all too harde in sorrowes hands Doth long to be at libertie That by the blessing of thy grace Deliuered from this earthly hell It may beholde thy blessed face Where all contentments euer dwell For truely loue in only thee Doth liue all comfort ioy and blisse And where thou art not what can bee But shewes what shame and sorrowe is And since in thee doth only liue The ground of the eternall good And thou alone canst only giue The faithfull soule her heauenly foode Vouchsafe me leaue to thee to cry Oh let my teares thy mercie moue Who for thy loue would gladly die Come liue with mee and be my loue But I am vile and foule and blacke Vnworthy obiect for thine eyes Yea worthy to be beaten backe Euen from the blessing of the skies But thou canst make mee white as snowe By one pure droppe of thy deare sonne And being purified so Thou wilt forget what I haue done Had I a heauen to entertaine Thy holy presence it were thine But thou a king and I a swaine Take pittie on this loue of mine Thy greatnesse was in goodnesse such As did the poorest loue embrace And is not thy worde true in tutch That humble loue gets heauenly grace Wherefore on knees of humble heart Let mee thy gratious mercie moue Put all my sinfull shame apart And liue with mee and be my loue For thou art wise though I am fond And thou canst make mee wise in thee And thou art free though I am bond And thou alone canst make me free Thou art all good and I so ill I know not how to come to thee But worke mee wholly to thy will Then be my loue and liue with mee IN sorrowes deepe my spirit all appalde Seing the worlde an only sinke of sinne Vnto the Lord of heauen for mercy cald And in her teares did thus her suit beginne If euer Lord a poore repentant wretch Whose bleeding heart can hardly speake for grief But from his soule those sobbing sighes doth fetch That may in silence sue for thy reliefe My gratious Lord and euerlasting God In pittie looke a little on my paine Beholde my faith forbe are thy heauie rodde And let thy mercie heale my soule againe I must confesse I haue offended sore That gratious will and glorious loue of thine I see my sinnes are euermore before This wretched soule and wicked eyes of mine Nor day nor night my spirit taketh rest For feare of thy too much deseru'd displeasure Such bitter sorrowes boyle within my breast As prooue my torments haue no little measure But Lord that seest how I am wo begon me The deadly hurt wherin my hart doth dwel In thy sweete mercy once but looke vpon mee Say but thou art my helpe and I am well WHen that I felt my soule with sorrow sokē My wofull minde with miseries opprest My pining heart with bitter passions broken And euery way my spirit all distressed Vpon my knees vnto my God I went And in my teares I told him of my griefe And with a heart almost in peeces rent Repentance sued to pittie for reliefe When to his eares my praiers did ascende And from his holy hill his mercie heard me And to my soule such comfort did descend That I did see that mercy did regard mee For I did finde how hope bad feare depart My heartie sorrowe had obtained grace And I did feele such comfort in my heart That sodaine ioy was set in sorrowes place When God he knowes that with no little ioy My soule was rauisht with his sacred loue That bad my heart abandon all annoy I should in heauen a sweter comfort proue Oh God sweete God more sweet then can be thought When hope is least that giues thy comfort most Whose mercie hath so with thy iustice wrought As will not see thy faithfull seruants lost Among thy Saintes and Angels that does it About thy throne to glorifie thy name Vouchsafe me grace to say Amen to it Although vnworthy once to heare the same FINIS