Selected quad for the lemma: end_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A48931
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The double eternity, or, The inevitable choice; Votum candidium vivat rex. English. Selections.
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Newport, Maurice, 1611-1687.; J. L.
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1695
(1695)
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Wing L27B; ESTC R41359
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6,843
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15
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round He is all over Pain no Part is free And so are all the Damn'd as well as he Does the Gout tear the Feet with raging Pains The Pain of Sense Does Stone or gnawing Gravel Heat the Reins The Guts at least or Head is free But here All Parts complain of Burthens none can bear A living Death they live they live and die Both at a Time and both Eternally Each Good the more it lasts the more it grows And by their lasting too we measure Woes Great Pain is to it self a speedy Cure The greater 't is the less it will endure It can't be great and long Man has not strength But Hells vast Pains are of an endless length The Fire never kills and never dies But with it self ever it self supplies Implacable Destruction Torment extreme Hells worst of Furies Gods avenging Flame The Saying's strange Mark 6. That every one shall be Salted with fire Here 's the Mystery As Salt preserves so shall that Fire do With Pain preserving salt and burn them too That fiery Salt force to the Burnt inspires And makes them fire-proof t'eternal Fires O Pennance give me Sighs and weeping Eyes O force of Tears at which Hell-fire dies But see lost Soul whence art thou tumbled down The Pain of lost Happiness That Sight in Tears the Eyes shall ever drown The Ministers of Light shall always be The Ministers of Tears for an Eternity They see the happy Mansions seat of Peace bound in Hells Dungeon clos'd within the Place Nine times about by Depths that none can pass They see the blessed Angels Station Fill'd with New-comers from our Plantation They see a joyful numberless Embrace Love pressing heart to heart and face to face But these are Sweets enjoy'd by him alone The Book of Life has made a Denison Of Heaven Golden Book let others be Cry'd up for Beauty Art Antiquity These Vertue polish and eternal Love * The Light of Glory is that supernatural Light necessary to raise the natural Faculty of the Mind to that supernatural Act the Vision of God Not to my Eyes but Ears that Light above Which from its Glory takes its Price and Name Has often come come by the way of Fame The bright East ne'er such Glory had to show And all the First days fertile Light could do The Parent of each other glorious Light It ne'er could bring forth any thing so bright 'T is Gods own Lustre that which shone about Michael and 's Army fighting ' gainst the rout Of Rebel Angels 't is the Suns bright Ray Which never sets that Light which shews the way Into the very innermost abode And all the pleasures and the Sweets of God But Hell must have no share in this black Smoak Dark Clouds thick Steams the Sight of Heaven choke And Hell more dreadful make What a Sight Are these black Monsters of eternal Night I dread the Thought on 't Oh what Looks what Blows What biting Serpents to increase our Woes What Fires overspread the burning Plain How fertile is the horrid place in Pain Alas 't is more than Horrid Hence they Groan Roar out and Rage and make a dismal Moan O Sleep Death's likeness if as Poets tell Thou dost in everlasting Darkness dwell Upon my Eyes shed from thy charming Rod Kind Poysons Ladanum and Diacode And make me lose my self for one short Wink And for a Moment neither feel nor think If any stupifying Lethe flows In Hell amdist their thoughtful sleepless Woes Ah may it wash my Cares and make the Pain Less tyrannizing and compose my Brain To rest that Sleep may steal upon my Grief And Rob me of my self a welcom Thief But oh no Sleep no Lethe Cares allays But frightful Objects rush in every way Upon the Mind and weary't night and day No way to shun the hateful Sight they fear Where e'er they turn their Eyes the Plague is there Hence comes that Worm which in their restless Breast The Worm of Conscience Deep in the Heart and Soul is said to nest And gnaws eternally th' immortal Food And sucks the everlasting-wasting Blood No after-Sighs and Tears do any good The Gate which open was to all the Crimes Thro' all the East West North and Southern Climes That Gate is shut with unrelenting hand The Iron hinge is turn'd and so must stand No hope All 's gone Hope is Pain 's sole relief Either as shewing Fruit or end of Grief Grief holds to that Where is the Fruit of Woe Hells Pains are fruitless Where 's the end Round go The wheeling Torments with return of Pain Still coming round to be endur'd again Infinite is the heap of Misery A mass of Ills that fill Eternity The Stars and untold Sands put in one sum Are nothing to the Years of Pain to come Swift Hours stand and lay aside your Wings Your Wheels your restless Motion useless things Times Race is ended Heavens Course is done Nor Wheels of Heaven stir nor Wheels of Sun But the swift Wheel of Pain runs as before Age after Age and never shall give o'er FINIS