Selected quad for the lemma: knowledge_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
knowledge_n	godliness_n	kindness_n	patience_n	5,208	5	9.3323	5	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A30008	Death dis-sected, or, A fort against misfortune in a cordiall compounded of many pious and profitable meditations on mans mortality / digested into severall poems by T.I.	Buckler, Edward, 1610-1706.	1649 (1649)	Wing B5348; ESTC R170860	42,019	132

cannot see Things divine for yet they be In their naturall condition But sanctified souls have better eyes Each Person in the sacred Trinitie Sends comfort down and such as farre outvies The best delight that is below the skie Father Sonne and holy Ghost Be it spoke with reverence Seem to strive which shall dispense Blessings that do comfort most The Father as his title often writes Himself a God of peace and consolation He sends me comforts by those sacred lights Which bring me errands from his habitation And so firm and full and free Is each promise in his book That on whichsoe'r I look Blessed comforts I do see So firm that first the hugest hills and mountains Shall dance out of their places starres shall fall Streams shall run backward to their mother-fountains The earth shall tumble ere he will recall One of 's promises For why And this gives strong consolation In the middest of temptation He 's a God and cannot lie So full that there 's not any thing left out That I could wish What I would have him be God is Would I be compassed about With mercie find relief in miserie Would I by his Spirit be led And have all my sinnes forgiven And hereafter go to heaven All this God hath promised So free that to deserve that promis'd glory I nothing have but what his mercie gave me 'T is gratis rather then compensatorie Whatever God doth to convert or save me And if any good I do 'T is done by supplies Divine So Gods work and none of mine Grace begins and ends it too What if by nature I was made a sheep And by corruption I am gone astray Whether I think or speak or do or sleep Or wake do ever wander from the way I was set in and am toss'd So by lust that my soul wanders Into many by-meanders Like a sillie sheep that 's lost Yet God 's my shepherd When his mercy spi'd me Wandring it brought me home and ever since It doth watch over feed defend and guide me And ever will do so till I go hence And hereafter in the even When my latest sand is runne And my pasture here is done It will sold my soul in heaven The Sonne doth comfort 'T was his errand down To preach glad tidings to the meek and turn Their wo to ease to earn a glorious crown For sinners and to comfort those that mourn Broken-hearted ones to bind And to set at libertie Pris'ners in captivitie And give eye-sight to the blind There 's comfort in his wounds His sacred stripes Do heal our leprous souls of all their sores 'T is nothing but his pretious bloud that wipes Our guilt away and cancelleth our scores Six times did he shed his bloud And sure our estate did need it That so many times he did it And each drop was for our good Those circumcision-drops of 's infancie Those drops that 's anguish in the garden vented Those drops when he was scourged Jewishly Those drops when 's head with sharpest thorns was tented Those drops when his limbs were nailed To the crosse those when the fierce Souldiers spear his side did pierce Each drop for our good prevailed There 's comfort in his crosse That vile old man That hangs about us to our dying day Is crucified with him that it can Not exercise half of its wonted sway Lessened is its kingly power Surely sinne it struggles so Hath receiv'd a mortall blow And is dying everie houre There 's comfort in his death For us he dy'd For us he felt his Fathers heavie wrath And his impartiall justice satisfi'd And us his alsufficient passion hath Pluck'd from Satan vi armis And his meritorious pain Freed us from sinnes guilt and stain And whatever else might harm us There 's comfort in his resurrection too He rose again that we might be accounted Righteous and just This no man else could do And that our sinnes whose number farre surmounted All the starres that shine in heaven All our hairs and all the sand That lies scattered on the strand For his sake might be forgiven And God the holy Ghost doth comfort bring By speciall office it is his employment To settle in the soul a lively spring From whence doth issue such a sweet enjoyment Of divine heart-pleasing blisse As the world will not believe Nor can any heart conceive But the heart wherein it is It is this blessed Spirit that doth seal Assurance to my conscience of a share In what God in and through his Sonne doth deal To needy sinners that converted are It assures me of Gods love In the free and full remission Of my sinnes and exhibition Of those joyes that are above Let now the world that 's wont to tell a storie Of strange delights shew me but such a pleasure As to be sure of God and Christ and glory And then I 'll hug it as my choicest treasure Thus each Person of the three Is imploy'd if I do live Holy as I ought to give Joy and comfort unto me Grant a man once to be in Christ and he On sublunarie pleasures soon will trample And yet for pleasures who shews best will vie With all the world give him but one example What gets pleasure and what feeds it Whatsoe'r ' mongst earthly things To the mind most pleasure brings He can shew what farre exceeds it Can learning please he is a man of parts Me thinks sure at his very singers end He hath exactly all the liberall arts At least he hath such arts as will commend Any man a great deal more And will sooner bring to heaven Then will any of those seven On which learned men do pore His Logick is so scientificall His Syllogismes are in so blest a mood A thousand arguments his heart le ts fall That rightly from good premises conclude Him a child of God on high And a member of his Sonne And an heir when 's race is runne Of a blest Eternitie His Rhetorick excells He can perswade More then those well-penn'd sweet orations which Demosthenes or Tullie ever made Doth he that prayer-hearing God beseech Presently his eare he gains For fine words it is no matter Let him like a swallow chatter Or a crane yet he obtains And for Arithmetick his numeration Is of his dayes this makes the man applie His heart to wisdome that in any station He may perform his dutie prudently And those sinnes to make them hatefull Which his conscience most do cumber Everie day the man doth number And Gods blessings to be gratefull And for Addition 't is his diligence Vertue to adde to faith to vertue knowledge Love godlinesse peace kindnesse patience One to another that his soul 's a Colledge Filled with divinest graces And not one grace idle lies But all do their exercise In their severall turns and places When he subtracteth 't is not from the poore As most men do not from the King nor Church But from sinnes monstrous bodie More and more