Selected quad for the lemma: end_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
end_n	day_n	hour_n	minute_n	1,570	5	11.3251	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A10260	A feast for vvormes Set forth in a poeme of the history of Ionah. By Fra. Quarles.	Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644.	1620 (1620)	STC 20544; ESTC S115474	43,861	108

are Of sumptuous beautie and of glorious show Let him disrobe and put on sackcloth too The Oxe ordain'd for yoke the Asse for load The Horse as well for race as for the road The burthen-bearing Cammell strong and great The fruitfull Kine and eu'ry kind of Neate Let all put sackcloth on and spare no voyce But crie amaine to heau'n with mightie noyse Let all men turne the Byas of their wayes And change their fiercer hands to force of praise For who can tell if God whose angrie face Hath long bin wayning from vs will embrace This slender pittance of our best endeuour Who knowes if God will his intent perseuer Or who can tell if He whose tender loue And mercy ' extends his Iudgements farre aboue Will change his high Decree and turne his sentence Vpon a timely and vnfain'd Repentance And who can tell if God will change the lot That we and ours may liue and perish not So God perceiu'd their works and saw their wayes Approu'd the faith that in their works did blaze Approu'd their works approu'd their works the rather Because their faith and works went both together He saw their faith because their faith abounded He saw their works because on faith they grounded H' approu'd their faith because their faith was true H' approu'd their works because on faith they grew He saw their faith and works and so relented H● approu'd their faith and works and so repented Repented of the plagues they apprehended Repented of the Euill that he intended So God the vengeance of his hand with-drew He tooke no forfeiture although 't were due The Euill that once he meant he now forgot Cancell'd the forfeit bond and did it not Meditatio decima ¶ LO into what an ebbe of low estate The Soule that seekes to be regenerate Must first decline Before the Ball rebound It must be throwne with force against the ground The Seed cannot encrease in fruitfull eares Nor can she reare the goodly stalke she beares Vnlesse bestrow'd vpon a mould of earth And made more glorious by a second birth So fares with Man Before he can bring forth The braue exploits of truly noble Worth Or hope the granting of his sinnes remission He must be humbl'd first in sad contrition The plant through want of skill or by neglect If it be planted from the Sunnes reflect Or lack the dew of seasonable showres Decayes and beareth neither Fruit or Flowres So wretched Man if his repentance hath No quickning Sunne-shine of a liuely Faith Or not bedew'd with show'rs of timely teares Or works of mercy wherein Faith appeares His pray'rs and deeds and all his forged grones Are like the howles of Dogs and works of Drones The skilfull Surgeon first by letting blood Weakens his Patient ere he does him good Before the Soule can a true comfort finde The Body must be prostrate and the Minde Truly repentiue and contrite within And loath the fawning of a bosome Sin But Lord Can MAN deserue Or can his Best Doe Iustice equall right which he transgrest When Dust and Ashes mortally offends Can Dust and Ashes make Eternall mends Is Heau'n vniust Must not the Recompence Be full Equiualent to the Offence What mends by mortall Man can then be giu'n To the offended Maiestie of heau'n O Mercie Mercie on thee my Soule relyes On thee we build our Faith we bend our eyes Thou fill'st my empty straine thou fil'st my tongue Thou art the subiect of my Swan-like song Like pinion'd pris'ners at the dying Tree Our lingring hopes attend and wayte on thee Arraign'd at Iustice barre preuent our doome To thee with ioyfull hearts we cheerely come Thou art our Clergie Thou that dearest Booke Wherein our fainting eyes desire to looke In thee we trust to reade what will release vs In bloudy Caracters that name of IESVS ¶ What shall we then returne to God of Heau'n Where nothing is Lord nothing can be giu'n Our soules our bodies strength and all our pow'rs Alas were all too little were they ours Or shall we burne vntill our life expires An endlesse Sacrifice in Holy fires ¶ My Sacrifice shall be my HEART entire My Christ the Altar and my Zeale the Fire THE ARGVMENT The Prophet discontented prayes To God that he would end his dayes God blames his wrath so vnreprest Reproues his vnaduis'd Request Sect. 11. BVt this displeasing was in Iona's eyes His heart grew hot his blood began to rise His eyes did sparkle and his teeth struck fire His veines did boyle his heart was full of yre At last brake foorth into a strange request These words he pray'd and mumbl'd out the rest Was not O was not this my thought O Lord Before I fled Nay was not this my Word The very Word that these my lips had shaped When this mis-hap mought well haue bin escaped Was there O was there not a iust suspect My preaching would procuer this effect For loe I knew of old they tender loue I knew the pow'r thou gau'st my Tongue would moue Their Adamantine hearts I knew 't would thaw Their frozen spirits and breed relenting awe I knew moreo're vpon their true repentance That thou determin'dst to reuerse thy sentence For lo I knew thou wert a Gracious God Of long forbearance slow to vse the Rod I knew the power of thy Mercies bent The strength of all thy other works out-went I knew thy tender kindnes and how loth Thou wert to punish and how slow to wrath Turning thy Iudgements and thy plagues preuenting Thy mind reuersing and of Eu'll repenting Therefore O therefore through this perswasion I fled to Tarsish there to make euasion To saue thy credit Lord to saue mine owne For when this blast of zeale is ouer-blowne And sackloth left and they left off to mourne When they like dogs shall to their vomit turne They 'l vilipend thy sacred Word and scoffe it Saying Was that a God or this a Prophet They 'l scorne thy Iudgements thy threats despise And call thy Prophets Messengers of lyes Now therefore Lord bow downe attentiue eare For lo my burthen's more then I can beare Make speed O Lord and banish all delayes T' extinguish now the tapour of my dayes Let not the minutes of my time extend But let my wretched howers find an end Let not my fainting sprite thus long aby In her fraile mansion of mortality The thrid's but weake my life depends vpon O cut that thrid and let my life be done My brest stands faire O strike and strike againe For nought but dying can asswage my paine For liefer 'tis to dye then liue in shame For better 't is to leaue and yeeld the game Then toyle for what at length must needs be lost O kill me for my heart is sore imbost This latter boone vnto thy seruant giue For better 't is for me to dye then liue So wretched Ionah But Iehoua thus What boot's it so to storme out-ragious Does it become