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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

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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A77759	Midnights meditations of death: with pious and profitable observations, and consolations : perused by Francis Quarles a little before his death. / Published by E.B.; A buckler against the fear of death.	Buckler, Edward, 1610-1706.; Benlowes, Edward, 1603?-1676, attributed name.; Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644.	1646 (1646)	Wing B5350; Thomason E1164_3; ESTC R208713	41,632	130

many sleepie mortals go to bed With healthful bodies and do rise no more How many hungry mortals have been fed Contentedly at dinner yet before Against a second meal they whet their knives Death steals away their stomachs and their lives How many in the morning walk abroad For to be breath'd on by the keener air Perhaps to clarifie their grosser bloud Or else to make their rougher cheeks look fair But e'r they tread a furlong in the frost Death nips them so their former labour 's lost Nature is parsimonious Man may live With little but alas with how much lesse A man may die There 's nothing but may give A mortall blow small matters may undresse Our souls of clay A thousand wayes we have To send our crazie bodies to the grave The elements confeder how they may Procure our Death the Air we suck to live It self hath poi'sned thousands in a day And made such havock that the slain did strive For elbow-room in Church-yards houses were Good cheap and onely shrowds and coffins dear If we could come to speak with Pharaoh's ghost 'T would tell how many met with sudden graves Beneath the water that a mighty host Was slain and buried by the surly waves Except a few which surfeted with store The crop-sick sea did vomit on the shore Sometimes our mother Earth as if she were So hunger-bitten that she needs must eat Her children gapes as for some toothsome cheer And multitudes one swallow down doth let Which either in her womb she doth bestow Or else doth send them to the world below That usefull creature Fire whose light and heat Doth comfort and when Earth doth penance warm us Whose cookerie provides us wholesome meat Yet mortally this element doth harm us One morning sent from heav'n such dreadfull flashes As did intomb five cities in their ashes We may remember some that have been kill'd By falls of buildings some by drunken swords By beasts both wild and tame our bloud is spill'd There 's not a creature but a death affords 'Bove fourtie childrens limbs God's anger tears In pieces with the teeth of savage bears But there 's some likely hood that sudden Death By means like these may easily befall us But many times we mortalls lose our breath By wayes lesse probable The Lord doth call us Upon a sudden hence by petty things Sometimes the meanest means Death's errand brings Our staff of life may kill a little crumb Of bread may choke us going down awry A small hair in their drink hath caused some To breath their last By any thing we die Sometimes a sudden grief or sudden joy Have might enough to take our souls away Meditation 1. HOw weak 's the thread of life that any thing How weak so e'r can break it by and by How short 's the thread of life that Death can bring Both ends of it together suddenly Well may the scriptures write the life of man As weak as water and as short 's a span How soon is water spilt upon the ground Once spilt what hand can gather 't up again Fome that doth rise to day is seldome found Floting to morrow When the wanton rain Gets bubbles to make sport with on the water A minute breaks them into their first matter Such is our life How soon doth Death uncase Our souls and when they once are fled away Who can return them As upon the face Of thirstie ground when water 's shed to day The morrow sees it not so when we die None can revive us as we fall we lie Our life 's a vapour Vapours do arise Sometimes indeed with such a seeming power As if they would eclipse the glorious skies And muffle up the world but in an houre Or two at most these vapours are blown o'r And leave the air as clear as 't was before We look big here a little while and bristle And shoulder in the smiling world as though There were no dancing but as we would whistle So strangely domineer we here below But as a vapour in a sun-shine day We vanish on a fudden quite away Our life is like the smoke of new-made fire As we in age and stature upward tend Our dissolutio is so much the nigher Smoke builds but castles in the air ascend Indeed it doth aloft but yet it must At high'st dissolve we vanish into dust What is a shadow Nothing Grant it were A thing that had a name and being too Yet let a cloud 'twixt us and heav'n appear It s turn'd into its former nothing Do Our shadows vanish surely so do we At noon a man at night a corps we see Our life 's a cloud and from varietie Of vapours are created diverse sorts The stronger last a time the weaker flie With lesfe ado yet half a day transports Both strong'st and weakest hence and in their flight Their nimble speed outrunnes the quickest sight Some men are healthfull merrie lustie strong Some crazy weak sad sickly drooping both Post hence with winged speed we may not wrong Life's footmanship for sure with greater sloth Clouds through the air the strongest wind doth send Then frail mans life doth gallop to its end With greater sloth A man that now is here Perhaps an houre yea half a minute hence That man may in another world appear Our life moves faster then those things which sense Acquaint us with faster then ships by farre Or birds or bullets that do plow the air All flesh is grasse how suddenly that fades Grasse in the morning standeth proudly green E'r night the husbandmen prepare their blades To cut it down and not a leaf is seen But e'r the morrow 's wither'd into hay That in its summer-suit was cloth'd to day We grow and flourish in the world a space Our dayes with ease mirth health strength heav'n doth crown But 't is not long we run this happy race Death cometh with his sithe and mows us down When we are apt to say for ought we know As yet we have an age of dayes to grow Our life 's a flower that groweth in the field A garden-flower is but a fading thing Though it hath hedges banks and walls to shield It self from cropping long 't is e'r the spring Doth bring it forth three quarters of a yeare Are gone before its beauty doth appear And when it shineth in its fairest pride One hand or other will be sure to pluck it But let 's suppose all snatching fingers ty'd And grant withall that never Bee doth suck it To blemish it a jote yet will the breath Of winter blow the fairest flower to death 'T is long before we get us very farre Into the world for after generation There is a time when lifelesse lumps we are And have not bodies of a humane fashion Such as we have both life and motion want And when we live we live but like a plant A while we do but grow then like a beast We have our senses next indeed we live The

great care gives warrant by and by Unto his baillifs Fever Pox and Gout Phrensie Strangury Colick Squinancy Consumption Dropsie and an ugly rout Beside these for to assail her Deaths command was that they must Tie her fast in chains of dust He gave charge that none should bail her You would not think with what a furious pace These catchpoles flie to pull this creature down But Pox was nimblest she got to her face And plow'd it up This hag goes in a gown Rugged and of colour tawny Button'd o're from top to toe Skin-deep beauties deadly foe Uglier hag was never any Fain would the rest have fastned on her too But that this hag had frighted out her soul Now looks her carcase of another hue Grim ugly lothsome ghastly and as foul As did ever eye look on What 's become of that complexion Which held all hearts in subjection In a moment all is gone If we might be so bold to dig the grave Some few years hence where this good woman lies Sure we should find this beauty but a slave To pallid putrefaction and a prize For those silly vermine worms As they crawl in stinking swarms She doth hug them in her arms And doth give them suck by turns Here 's a deformed lump indeed and this Must be the fortune of the fairest face None then are proud but fools They love amisse Whose hearts are chain'd to any thing but grace From the beauty of the skin In the loveliest outward part Lord vouchsafe to turn my heart To love that which is within Meditation 3. IF Death will come sure there will come an end Of all this worlds deep-biting misery Nothing adverse that 's here on earth doth tend Beyond the grave that 's a delivery From the pow'r of men and devils And what-ever other wo May befall us here below Death's a shelter from all evils Here I am poore my daily drops of sweat Will not maintein my full-stock'd family A dozen hungry children crie for meat And I have none nor will words satisfie Could I give their belly ears 'T were a comfort or could fill Hungry stomacks with good will Or make daily bread of tears Here the oppressour with his griping claws Sits on my skirts my racking land-lord rears Both rent and fine with potent looks he aws Me from mine own Scarce any man but bears In his bosome Ahabs heart Horse-leach-like that 's ever craving Other mens and sick of having Right or wrong will catch a part Here in these clay-built houses sicknesse reigns I have more maladies then I can name Each member of my body hath its pains Moreover weeping groning sadnesse shame Slanders melancholy fear Discontents disgraces losses And a thousand other crosses Must be born if I live here But these are finite all When I am dead My poverty is ended and my care I heare my famish'd children crie for bread No longer Then I drink I lodge I fare Just as well as Caesar doth There ends cold and nakednesse All my former wretchednesse Death is meat and drink and cloth There 's no face-grinding There the mighty cease From troubling there the weary be at rest The servant 's freed the pris'ner is at ease All 's still and quiet no man is oppress'd For incroachers there are none Not a poore man 's wronged nor Is his vineyard longed for Every man may keep his own Sicknesse there 's none when-ever Death shall take My body hence and lodge it in the clay I shall not feel a tooth or finger ake Nor any other misery that may In the least degree displease me For all sores the grave hath plasters And it cureth all disasters Of all burdens Death will ease me Malicious tongues fired below in hell There will not hurt me nor the poisonous breath Of whispering detractours I shall dwell Securely in the dust One stroke of Death Sets me out of gun-shot quite Not the deepest-piercing tongue Can there do me any wrong Bark they may but cannot bite Lord I am thine and if it be thy will While I do live a stranger here below Brim-high with bitternesse my cup to fill And make me drink 't yet Lord withall bestow But thy grace and thou shalt see me Patient and my comfort 's this That a short affliction 't is In a moment Death may free me Meditation 4. IF I must die it must be my endeavour So to provide that every thought of Death May be a thought of comfort that when-ever That aged sire shall take away my breath I may willingly lay down This old house that 's made of clay Gladly welcoming the day That brings an eternall crown But of all things a holy life 's the way Must lead me to a comfortable end To crucifie my lusts and to obey Gods sacred will in all things This doth tend Unto comfort joy and ease Mark the man that is upright And sets God alwayes in 's sight That mans end is ever peace What makes me fear a serpent 't is his sting The mischief 's there When that is taken out I can look on him as a harmlesse thing And in my bosome carry him about What makes Death look rufully Not Deaths self it is his sting That doth fear and horrour bring And makes men so loth to die The sting of death is sinne but there 's a Jesus Hath pluck'd it out The guilt 's done quite away The stain is wash'd He sent his Spirit to ease us In some good measure of that kingly sway Which o're us sinne held before Blessed work of grace now I Strongest lusts can mortifie In my soul sinne reigns no more Now in me holinesse is wrought which is A pious disposition of the heart Inclining me to hate what 's done amisse In me and others never to depart From God to left hand or right Nor one of his laws to break But to think and do and speak What 's well-pleasing in his sight Each act from faith and love ariseth and The end I aim at is my Makers praise His word 's my rule my warrant 's his command Thus am I fitted Death cut off my dayes If thou wilt within this houre I will thank thee for thy pain For to me to die is gain I 'll not fear a jote thy power What canst thou do that justly may affright me Though with thee in the dark I dwell a space Yet canst thou not eternally benight me Thou art my passage to a glorious place Where shall not be any night My rais'd ashes shall enjoy There an everlasting day And an uneclipsed light I fear not death because of putrefaction Nor if I might would willingly decline it My body gains by 't 't is the graves best action God as a founder melts it to refine it Death cannot annihilate And in despite of the grave Yet I shall a body have Fairer and in better state Gods second work excells his first by ods Our second birth life Adam to repair Our bodies is a second

Here I sojourn some few yeares This world is a countrey strange Death my pilgrimage will change For a home above the spheares In elder time the goddesse Quiet had Her temple but 't was plac'd without the gates Of Ethnick Rome to shew that good and bad Have here their vexing and disturbing fates And do bear their crosse about Whilst within the walls they stay Of this world and shall enjoy No rest till Death let them out Here I am look'd upon with divers eyes Sometimes of envy sometimes of disdain Here I endure a thousand miseries Some vex my person some my credit stain My estate 's impair'd by some But yet this doth comfort me That hereafter I shall be Better us'd when I come home In all estates my patience shall sustein me I am resolved never to repine Though ne'r so coursely this world entertein me Such is a strangers lot such must be mine Were I of the world to dwell Here as in my proper home Without thoughts of life to come Then the world would use me well I am not of their minds in whom appears No care for any world but this below Who lay up goods in store for many years As if they were at home but will bestow Neither care nor industry Upon heaven as if there They were strangers but had here A lease of eternitie The banish'd Naso weeps in sable strain The woes of banishment nor could I tell If Death and it were offer'd of the twain Which to make choice of O! to take farewell Of our native soil to part With our friends and children dear And a wife that is so near Must needs kill the stoutest heart What is 't then to be absent from that house Eternall in the heav'ns not made with hands From Angels Saints God Christ himself whose Spouse Our soul is from a haven where nothing Iands That defileth where 's no danger No fear no pain no distresse All 's eternall happinesse What is 't to be here a stranger I have been oft abroad yet ne'r could find Half that contentment which I found at home Methought that nothing suited with my mind Into what place soever I did come Though I nothing needed there Neither clothes nor drink nor meat Nor fit recreations yet Methought home exceeded farre Thither did my affections alwayes bend And I have wish'd before I came half-way A thousand times my journey at an end And have been angry with a minutes stay Sunne-set I did ever fear And a hill or dirty mile That delay'd me but a while Seem'd to set me back a yeare I built not tabernacles in mine inne Nor ever cry'd out 'T is good being here No company would I be ever in That drown'd but half an hour in wine or bier I have wish'd my horse would runne With a farre more winged speed Then those skittish jades that did Draw the chariot of the Sunne From carnall self-love Lord my heart unfetter And then shall I desire my heavenly home More then this here because that home is better And pray with fervency Thy kingdome come Lord had thy poore servant done What thou hast set him about I would never be without Holy longings to be gone Meditation 8. THere was a State as I have heard it spoken The tale doth almost all belief surpasse That had a custome never to be broken But a bad custome I am sure it was Mongst themselves their King to choose The elected man must be King as long 's they would and he When they pleas'd his crown must loose This State elected and deposed when And whom they would but the deposed Prince They suffered not to live mongst other men But drove him to a countrey farre from thence Into wofull banishment Where he chang'd his royalty For want and all misery Scarce a Kingly punishment One King there was that whilst his crown was on Knowing his subjects fickle disposition Beat his crown-worthy head to think upon Some course of providence to make provision At the place of 's banishment Full-stuff'd bags of money and What things else might purchase land He into that Kingdome sent It came to passe after some certain years His yoke seem'd heavy and his people frown'd King-sick they were their purpose soon appears A new King 's chosen and the old 's uncrow'nd And for exile this foul beast Giddy variable rude The unconstant multitude Dealt with him as with the rest But that his wiser providence was such When 's banish'd predecessours lived poore What he had sent before was full as much As did exclude want or desire of more There he lacks not any thing He doth purchase towns and fields And what else the countrey yields In estate he 's still a King So shall we fare hereafter in the next As we provide in this life Sure I see A providence in all Who is not vex'd And plung'd and lean with too much industry Men of all sorts runne and ride Sweat and toil and cark and care Get and keep and pinch and spare And all 's done for to provide For to provide what goods and lands and money Honours preferments pleasures wealth and friends As bees in summer-time provide their hony To sublunaries their provision tends And no farther 't is for dust That they labour and thick clay For these goods that will away And for treasures that will rust For to provide for what Their present life That 's naturall their bodies have their care Their spirituall state 's neglected there 's no strife For grace and goodnesse Souls immortall are Living everlastingly In eternall wo or blisse As here our provision is Yet are not a jote set by Men do provide amisse Full well I know it I shall be banish'd from this sinne-smote place All here is fading and I must forgo it What shall I lay up for hereafter grace An unspotted conscience Faith in Christ sobriety Holinesse and honesty These will help when I go hence Strengthen those graces Lord which thou hast given And I shall quickly change both care and love My care for earth into a care for heaven Take off my heart from hence and fix 't above And will lay up all provision For that life which is to come Whilst a stranger that at home I may find a blest condition PART II. Of Deaths impartiality from whose stroke neither Riches can protect us Honours Pleasures Friends Youth nor any thing Sect. I. Riches cannot protect us from the stroke of Death OF richest men in holy writ I read Whose basket whose store the Lord had blest And in the land exceedingly increas'd Their wealthy substance yet they all are dead Riches do not immortalize our nature The richest dyes as well 's the poorest creature 'Bove all the wealth of Solomon did passe Ne'r was man master of a greater store He went beyond all Kings that went before Silver as stones and purest gold as brasse Adorn'd Jerusalem a glorious thing Yet death strikes into dust this wealthy King