Selected quad for the lemma: heart_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
heart_n	motion_n	spirit_n	vital_a	2,273	5	10.8790	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A66468	Heaven the end of man or, Final cause of the soul's spirit. By William Williams, teutonico-philosopho-theologus	Williams, William, Inferior Brother to the venerable and orthodox clergy.	1696 (1696)	Wing W2788; ESTC R220009	89,464	156

the Wise and their Works are in the hand of God and weighed in the Ballance of Equity No Man knoweth either Love or Hatred Joy or Sorrow and how it will be in the other World by all that is before him in this World All things come alike to all There is one Event to the Righteous and to the Wicked God maketh the Sun and Rain to come upon the Just and Unjust His Divine Sun enlightens every one that comes into this World both the Clean and the Vnclean Him that sacrificeth his Lusts and him that sacrificeth not Him that sweareth to Gods Covenant and him that fears the Oath of Divine Allegiance and him that forswear●s it This seems an evil among all things that are done under the Sun that there is one Event unto all Yea also the Heart of the Sons of Men is full of Evil and Madness is in their Heart while they live and after that they go to the Dead For to him that is joyned to all the Living in the holy World there is hope in this Life-time for a living Dog which may be cultivated by degrees is better than a dead Lion And the Living know that they shall dye the Eternal Death if they cut themselves off from the Root But the Dead who die the second death know not anything at all but only pain neither have they any more a reward from God for the memory of them when the Days of Mourning shall be past is for ever forgotten Also their Love and their Hatred and their Envy is so perished that it can never hurt any of the Celestial Incolists Neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the Sun of their Eternity in the dark Center of their Abyss §. 10. All alike Relieved by a Poor Wise Man SO I returned and saw under the clear Sun of Divine Light that the Race is not always to the Swift nor the Battel to the Strong nor yet Bread to the Skilful Tiller of the harsh Earth nor yet Favour to Men of Skill But Time and Chance happeneth to them all and a wise Man discerneth both Time and Judgment But a wise Man also knows not his time As the Fishes that are taken in an evil Net and as the Birds that are caught in the Snare so are the Sons of Men snared in an evil time or Unlucky Hour of the Enemies temptation when it falleth suddenly upon them and that for want of Divine Skill and Wisdom with which whoever is endued he cannot be cheated This wisdom also have I seen under the Sun and it seemed great unto me There was a little Microcosmick City and few skilful Soldiers within it And there came a great King against it and by Authority from Luciscer besieged it and built great Bulwarks against it Now there was found in it a poor contemptible wise Man and he by his Wisdom delivered the City by giving his Life for the Inhabitants Yet no Man remembred that same poor servile Man Then said I Wisdom is better than strength nevertheless the poor Mans Wisdom is despised and his words are not heard The Words of the Wise are heard in quiet as a still pure Voice more than the cry of a King that ruleth among Fools and his losty loud words in the streets of Confusion Wisdom is better than Weapons of War But one sin ful Affection destroyeth much Good and by its jarring spoils the still Harmony in the Humane Harp even as one scabbed Sheep infects the whole Flock CHAP. II. The Souls Longing § 1. Crying Give Give VAnity of Vanities faith the Soul's Spirit All extern Objects are a vexation of my Spirit Now O Man saith the Eternal Preacher of the holy Gospel Knowest thou what thy Soul and what the Spirit of thy Soul is The Soul is a dry Hunger It is a longing Anguish It is a Fire without Fewel Lay thy hand upon thy Brest and feel thy own Root the Heart and then tell me dost thou feel no panting there No Breathing or Longing there No Hungring nor Thirsting there Art thou sensible of no Labour and Travail there No restless and incessant Crying there Crying Give give O give me that which I labour for O give me that which I seek after Even as every thing would fain live so would I Thou wilt say That 's the throboing and motion of the Heart and Pulses proceeding from the Vital Spirit Tho' that be true yet Life and Sense in Man are rooted in the Abyss of the Source of Eternal Joy and Delightful Affection of a thing Loved And that is the Soul who cries in the Gate of Mans Pallace Give me some Food true Food for me § 2. Seven-fold Craving O Saith the Spirit of the Soul Pity me my dear Soul O pity a poor Prisoner Bring me out of this Dungeon of Confinement enlarge my Habitation that I may find my late home again and solace my hankering eager Mind with my own dear Family and Relations Oh have pity upon a poor Beggar Give me a little Food to satisfie a hungry craving Soul O give me a little Water out of the Living Fountain to quench the great thirst and furious fire of my Passion O have compassion upon a poor Pilgrim shew me the way to a quiet lodge of Repose I want the shadow of a great Rock in this weary Land I cannot take a Nap of sweet sleep and refreshment in this parched Heath Here is no spreading Elm nor Beech nor Fountain of Chrystal Streams no warbling River beside which I may take my rest to recreate my languishing and tired Spirits O come dear Shepherd to seek thy roving Sheep Call me again with thy Melodious Shepherds Pipe I listen at times to hear it but cannot I dare not bleat my self lest the Wolves hear me O come blessed Shepherd and stand upon a high place where thy Voice may be audible Come skipping upon these Mountains and leaping upon the Hills of my wandring Mind For I am quite ●●●ed in this tedious Wilderness O give Rest to my travailing weary Spirit O this is not my Rest O somebody have mercy upon a distracted Innocent condemned by false Witnesses to be confined as in Bedlam I cannot set my heart at rest because of a pannick Fear that seizeth upon me Oppression makes a wise Man mad and besides himself O some Skilful Musician come and refresh my Senses and self-afflicting Conscience with the Har mony of the holy Gospel and the Melody of the blessed Tidings of Everlasting Serenity O who will pity a poor wounded and sick Person Give me some heavenly Balm or Cordial to heal my heavy heart and to slop the raging of my Sore and the swelling of my furious Agony Break the sence that separates me from my desired Object O shew mercy to a poor naked Person O I have been stripped naked in a Wilderness by Thieves and Murderers they have whipped me and smote me with sore Boils all over As