Selected quad for the lemma: fire_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A10260
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A feast for vvormes Set forth in a poeme of the history of Ionah. By Fra. Quarles.
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Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644.
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1620
(1620)
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STC 20544; ESTC S115474
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43,861
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108
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liue yet And yet liue in pleasure Alas could Sinners finde out ne'r a one More fit then Thee for them to spit vpon Did thy cheekes entertaine a Traytors lips Was thy deare body scourg'd and torne with whips So that the guiltlesse blood came trickling after And did thy fainting browes sweat blood and water Wert thou Lord hang'd vpon the Cursed Tree O world of Griefe And was all this for mee ¶ Burst foorth my teares into a world of sorrow And let my nights of griefe ne'r finde a morrow Since thou art dead Lord grant thy seruant roome Within his heart to build thy heart a Tombe Fraus Mundi 3 ¶ WHat is the World A great Exchange of ware Wherein all sorts and sexes cheapning are The Flesh the Diuell sit and cry What lack ye When most they fawne they most intend to rack ye The wares are Cups of Ioy and Beds of Pleasure There 's goodly choice downe weight and flowing measure A Soul 's the price but they giue time to pay Vpon the Death-bed on the dying Day ¶ Hard is the Bargaine and vniust the Measure When as the Price so much out-lasts the Pleasure The Ioyes that are on earth are Counterfeits If ought be true 't is this Th' are true Deceits They flatter fawne and like the Crocadile Kill where they laugh and murther where they smile They daily dip within thy Dish and Cry Who hath betray'd thee Mastre Is it I Gloria Coeli 4 ¶ WHen I behold and well aduise vpon The Wisemans speech There 's nought beneath the Sun But vanitie my Soule rebells within And loaths the Dunghill-prison she is in But when I looke to new Ierusalem Wherein 's reseru'd my Crowne my Diadem O what a Heauen of blisse my Soule enioyes On sudden rapt into that heauen of Ioyes Where rauisht in the depth of meditation She well discernes with Eye of Contemplation The Glory of God in his Imperiall Seat Full strong in Might in Maiestie compleat Where troups of Powers Vertues Cherubins Angels Archangels Saints and Seraphins Are chaunting praises to their heauenly King Where Halelujah they for euer sing Dolor Inferni 5 ¶ LEt Poets please to torture Tantalus Let gryping Vultures gnaw Prometheus And let Ixion turne his endlesse Wheele Let Nemesis torment with whips of Steele They far come short t' expresse the paines of those That rage in Hell enwrapt in endlesse woes Where time no end nor plagues finde no exemption Where cryes admit no helpe nor place redemption Where fier lacks no flame the flame no heate To make their torments sharp and plagues compleat Where wretched Soules to tortures bound shall bee Seruing a world of yeeres and not be Free Where nothing's heard but yells and sudden cryes Where fier neuer slakes nor Worme e'r dyes But where this Hell is plac'd my Muse stop there Lord shew me what it is but neuer where 1 Mors tua ¶ CAn he be Faire that withers at a Blast Or he be Strong that Ayery Breath can cast Can he be Wise that knowes not how to liue Or he be Rich that nothing hath to giue Can he be Yong that 's Feeble Weake and Wan So Faire so Strong so Wise so Rich so Yong is Man So Faire is Man that Death a parting Blast Crops his faire Flow'r and makes him Earth at last So Strong is Man that with a Gasping Breath He totters and bequeaths his Strength to Death So Wise is Man that if with Death he striue His Wisdome cannot teach him how to liue So Rich is Man that all his Debts b'ing pay'd His wealth 's the Winding-sheet wherein hee 's lay'd So Yong is Man that broke with Care and Sorrow Hee 's old enough to Day to Dye to Morrow Why bragg'st thou then Thou Worme of Fiue foot-long Th' art neither Faire nor Strong nor Wise nor Rich nor Yong. 2 Mors Christi I Thurst And who shall quench this Eager Thurst I Grieue And with my griefe my Heart will Burst I Grieue because I thurst without Reliefe I Thurst because my Soule is burnt with Griefe I thurst And dri'd with Griefe my Heart will Dye I Grieue and thurst the more For Sorrow's drie The more I grieue the more my thurst appeares Would God! I had not grieu'd out all my teares I Thurst And yet my Griefes haue made a Floud But Teares are salt I Grieue and Thurst for Bloud I Grieue for Bloud for Bloud must send Reliefe I Thurst for Bloud for Bloud must ease my Griefe I Thurst for sacred Bloud of a Deare Lambe I Grieue to thinke from whence that Deare Blood came 'T was shed for Mee O let me drinke my fill Although my Griefe remaine Entier still O soueraigne Pow'r of that Vermilion SPRING Whose Vertue neither Heart conceiues nor Tongue can sing 3 Fraus Mundi I Loue the World as Clients loue the Lawes To manage the vprightnes of my Cause The World loues me as Sheepheards doe their Flocks To Rob and spoyle them of their fleecy Locks I loue the World and vse it as mine Inne To bait and rest my tyred Carkasse in The World loues me For what To make her Game For filthy Sinne she sels me timely Shame Foorth from her Eyes doe Springs of Venome burst But like a Basiliske I 'le see her first And this my firme intended Course shall be To poyson her or she will poyson me We liue at Iarres as froward Gamesters doe Still guarding not Regarding others Foe I loue the World to serue my turne and leaue her 'T is no Deceit to Coozen a Deceiuer Shee 'l not misse me I lesse the World shall misse To lose a World of Griefe t' enioy a World of Blisse 4 Gloria Coeli EArth stands immou'd and Fixt Her Cituation Admits no locall Change no Alteration HEAVEN alway moues renuing still his place And euer sees vs with another Face EARTH standeth Fixt yet there I liue opprests HEAVEN alway moues yet there is all my Rest Enlarge thy selfe my SOVLE with Meditation Mount there and there bespeake thy Habitation Where Ioyes are full and pure not mixt with mourning All Endlesse and from which is no returning No Theft no Cruell Murther harbours there No Hoary-headed Care no sudden Feare No pinching Want no Griping fast Oppression Nor Death the stipend of our soule Transgression But dearest Friendship Loue and lasting Pleasure Aye there abides withouten stin◠or Measure Fulnesse of Riches Comfort sempeternall Excesse without a surfeiting And Life Eternall 5 Dolor Inferni THe Trump shall blow The Dead awak'd shall rise And to the Clouds shall turne their wondring Eyes The Heauen shall ope The Bridegroome foorth shall come To iudge the World and giue the World her Doome Ioy to the IVST to others Endlesse SMART To those the Voyce bids COME to these DEPART DEPART from LIFE yet dying liue for Euer For Euer dying be and yet Dye Neuer DEPART like Dogs with DIVELS take your lot DEPART like DIVELS for I know you not Like