Selected quad for the lemma: glory_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
glory_n	angel_n	face_n	see_v	2,910	5	4.4537	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A44939	Pia desideria, or, Divine addresses in three books : illustrated with XLVII copper-plates / written in Latine by Herm. Hugo ; Englished by Edm. Arwaker.; Pia desideria. English	Hugo, Herman, 1588-1629.; Arwaker, Edmund, d. 1730.; Sturt, John, 1658-1730.	1686 (1686)	Wing H3350; ESTC R19094	62,987	283

As the chas'd Hart for the refreshing stream Cyril in Joan. lib. 3. cap. 10. It is an excellent water that allays the pernicious thirst of this world and the heat of Vice that washes off all the stains of sin that waters and improves the Earth in which our Souls inhabit and restores the mind of man that thirsts with an earnest desire to its God When shall I come and appear before the presence of God Psal. 42. 2. XII When shall I come and appear before the presence of God Psal 42. 2. WIth promis'd Joys my ears thou oft' didst fill But they are only Joys of promise still Didst thou not say thou soon wou'dst call me home Be just my Love and kindly bid me come Expecting Lovers count each hour a day And death to them 's less dreadful than delay A tedious train of months and years is gone Since first you bid me hope yet gave me none Why with delays dost thou abuse my love And fail my vain expectancies above While thus th' insulting Crowd derides my woe Where 's now your Love how well he keeps his Vow Haste then and home thy longing Lover take If not for mine yet for thy promise sake When shall I come before thy Throne and see Thy glorious Scepter kindly stretch'd to me For Thee I pine for Thee I am undone As drooping Flow'rs that want their Parent Sun O cruel tort'rer of my wounded Soul Grant me thy presence and I shall be whole O when thou Joy of all admiring eyes When shall I see thee on thy Throne of bliss As when unwelcom night begins its sway And throws its sable mantle o're the day The withering glories of the Garden fade And weeping Groves bewail their lonely shade To melancholly silence men retire And no sweet Note sounds from the feather'd Choir But hardly can the dawning morn display The welcom Ensigns of th' approaching day But the glad Gardens deck themselves anew And the cheer'd Groves shake off their heavy Dew To early homage Man himself devotes And Birds in Anthems strain their tuneful throats So without Thee I grieve I pine I mourn So triumph so revive at Thy return But Thou unkind bidst me delight my eyes With other Beauties other Rarities Sometimes thou bidst me mark the flow'ry Field What various scents and shews its Pastures yield Then to the Stars thou dost direct my sight For they from Thine derive their borrow'd light Then saist Contemplate Man in Him thou 'lt see The great resemblance of thy Love and Me. Why wou'dst thou thus deceive me with a shade A trifling Image that will quickly fade My fancy stoops not to a mortal aim Thou thou hast kindled and must quench my flame O glorious Face worthy a Pow'r Divine Where Love and Awe with equal mixture shine Triumphant Majesty of that bright Ray Where blushing Angels prostrate homage pay We in thy Works thy fix'd impressions trace Yet still but faint reflections of thy Face When this inchanted World 's compar'd with Thee It s boasted Beauty 's all deformity Thy Stars no such transcending glories own As Thine whose light exceeds all theirs in one This truth some one of them can best declare Who on the Mount thy blest spectators were Who on Thy Glories were allow'd to gaze And saw Heav'n opned in Thy wondrous Face Nor can we blame thy great Apostle's Zeal To whom thou didst that happy sight reveal That slighting all things heretofore most dear Was all for building Tabernacles there Yet he beheld Thee then within a Veil The killing Rays thou kindly didst conceal He saw a lambent flame thy Face surround Thy Temples with a dazling Glory crown'd How had he wondred at the nobler Light Whose bare Reflection was so heav'nly bright But oh That 's inaccessible to humane sight Then me oh me to that blest state receive Where I may see thee all and seeing live When will that happy day of Vision be When I shall make a near approach to Thee Be wrapt in Clouds and lost in Mystery 'T is true the Sacred Elements impart Thy virt'ual presence to my faithful heart But to my sense still unreveal'd thou art This tho a great is an imperfect bliss T' embrace a Cloud for the bright God I wish My Soul a more exalted pitch wou'd sly And view Thee in the heights of Majesty Oh! when shall I behold Thee all serene Without an envious cloudy Veil between When distant Faith shall in near Vision cease And still my Love shall with my Joy increase That happy day dear as these Eyes shall be And more than all the dearest things but Thee Aug. in Psal 42. ●f thou sindest any thing better than to behold the face of God haste thee thither Wo be to that love of thine if thou dost but imagine any thing more beautiful than He from whom all Beauty that delights thee is derived O that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would fly away and be at rest Psal. 55. 6. XIII ● that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would fly away and be at rest Psal 55. 6. THo great Creator I receive from Thee All that I am and all I hope to be ●et might this humble Clay expostulate ● wou'd complain of my defective state To Man th' ast given the boundless Regency Of three vast Realms the Ocean Earth and Sky But oh how shall this ample Pow'r be try'd When still the means to use it are deny'd Pardon my hasty censure of thy skill Who think thy mighty Work defective still Nor am I forward to correct thy Art By wishing man a Casement in his heart Whose dark recesses all the world might see That prospect justly is reserv'd for Thee But the defect I mourn is greater far His want of Wings to bear him thro the Air. Inferiour Creatures no perfection want To hinder their enjoyment of Thy grant The scaly Race have nimble Fins allow'd With which they range about their native Flood And all the feather'd Tenants of the Air Born up on tow'ring Wings expatiate there Thus ev'ry Creature finds a blest content Adapted to its proper Element But Man for the command of all design'd Is still to One injuriously confin'd While Nature often is extravagant And gives his Subjects more than what they want Some of the watry kind we know can fly And visit when they please the lofty Sky And in exchange some of the aëry brood Descend and turn bold Pirates in the Flood While still to Man Heav'n does all means deny To exercise his vain Authority Ev'n buzzing Insects with light wings are blest ●n whose small frame Heav'n has much art exprest But Man the great the noble Master-piece Wants a perfection that abounds in these Nay some the meanest of the feather'd kind For neither profit nor delight design'd Stretch their Dominions to a vast extent Nor pleas'd with Two range a third Element Sometimes on Earth they walk with stately pace And sport and