Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
lord_n	day_n	good_a	let_v	10,395	5	4.3193	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A16663	The last trumpet: or, a six-fold Christian dialogue Viz, 1 Betweene death, the flesh, and the soule. 2 Between the Divell, the flesh, and the world. ... 6 Betweene the soule and the city of God. Translated from the elegant Latine prose of Richard Brathvvait Esquire, into English verse, by Iohn Vicars.; Novissima tuba. English	Brathwaite, Richard, 1588?-1673.; Vicars, John, 1579 or 80-1652.	1635 (1635)	STC 3569; ESTC S106132	46,858	112

a region full of enemies Ready and greedy the● for to surprise Where are domesticke-traytors worst of all Where Death is in the pot to worke thy fall And where thy foe stands ready thee to catch And thou hadst need to stand upon thy watch And here and there to cast a carefull eye And every where all dangers to descrie Not onely blush and sigh but quake with woe When thou remembrest whither thou must go Namely into a land most darke and drie A lake that burnes with brimstone furiously A place of punishment and tortures great Where hideous horrour hath eternall seat Where is no order but confusion strange Where errour terrour fiercely raigne and range Ma. Is there no hopefull nor no helpfull place Con. No none at all Where God is not by grace There he is present by revengefull power The wicked like dry stubble to devoure For if thou hast not God thy Father kinde A wrathfull judge thou wilt him surely finde But if thou long and labour to avoyde Gods vengeance let thy pains be all employde In walking in the wayes of Gods commands Wherein indeed a Christians beauty stands Which is the mirrour or best looking-glasse Where all may see the paths they ought to passe Which is the summe of our Religions state His image whom we serue to imitate Christs lovely-lover is his lively-picture As he is figur'd in the holy Scripture He beares a Christians badge and title true Which him a Christian by his deeds doth shew For t is but halfe-enough to bud and blow Vnlesse in good works we full-ripe do grow He lives but badly which don't well beleeve Faith with unfruitfull lives does but deceive True faith will not be clos'd but will breake out If life be in the tree fruit forth will sprout So if firme faith hath in the heart due place It will shine forth in vertues sparkling grace For wherefore is Mans body said to die Because the soule does thence expire and slie So how else is it that the soule is dead But because faith is not there harboured Thy Soules life therefore is thy faith sincere And Faiths-life best by good works doth appeare Man Alas this being so what is my case Having bin such a stranger to true grace Con. Sure all the while that Grace hath in thee ceast Thou hast not bin a man but a meere beast For without knowledge of our God indeed All men are like bruit beasts in fields that feed Man This I confesse therefore I pray thee show Which way I may God and my selfe well know Con. In Holy-Writ thou shalt the right-way finde Into what Paths thy foot must be enclin'd There is the light which will the way direct There is the life which thou must best affect Man But yet whiles thou within me art offended All holy duties by me best intended Are tedious and most troublesome to me Nothing well done as I desire I see Every thing clouded is with discontent Vnsweet unsavory lumpish negligent I therefore first and most desire to see A reconcilement made 'twixt thee and mee That so more freely and more fruitfully I may performe all acts of piety Con. Would'st thou indeed have me full pacifi'de Thou then must please me or else I shall chide For whatsoere against me is committed Is but a building unto hell-fire fitted If therefore either feare of punishment Or hope of high reward to full content Can win thee ought and wooe thee to be wise If quietnesse of minde a precious prize If peace of conscience a continuall feast Which every good man strives to have encreast May thee incite then doe not me provoke Nor with the grins of sins thy selfe fast yoake The Sea my Nature doth most aptly show Whereon if any filthy foame doth flow Any dead karkasses or slimy-weeds ●t into furious boylings soone proceeds It rages rumbles tumbles all about And is not quiet till it quite throw out Those filthy scums upon the bankes and shore Of which it seem'd to labour much before That thus it eas'd of that superfluous stuffe Might calmed be and cease to be so rough ●o I my selfe thy conscience use to swell To boyle and toyle to rise and rage untill The lees and dregges the least Remaines of sinne Be utterly expelled from within For nothing does me so much presse oppresse As wilfully-committed-wickednesse With whose intollerable burthen prest Till eas'd thereof I can enjoy no rest ● would'st thou therefore ever merry be Would'st thou continually me cheerefully see ● then 't is thy part timely with due zeale My soares thy sinnes with Penitence to heale ●or looke how-much man sees and knowes his sinne The more to grone and grieve he does begin ●nd true repentant-teares are Angells-wine With these the soule being washt in heav'n wil shine Dost thou desire then to be never sad T is a good-conscience that makes ever glad Man Alas I knew all these before you spake But never yet right use of them did make Con. Vnprofitable is that science sure Which comfort to the conscience don't procure Indeed there is much-science every where But little-conscience does abroad appeare What good will science or great knowledge doe If conscience be uncleane obscene in you Thou shalt not be at Gods last dreadfull day Arraigned by the Booke of science gay But by the booke of conscience every-one Shall answer at the Lords tribunall throne Such then as at that great day thou wouldst be Such let the Lord now in this life thee see Conscience is a voluminous great-Booke Whereinto whosoere doth please to looke Shall find all writ i th stile of verity And with the pen of doubtlesse certainty And thence i th day of judgement wil be sought Not how much hast thou read but how much wrough● Not how well hast thou spoke what good words given But to live well how hast thou car'd and striven Man O! Woe is me if this alas be so What I shall say or doe I doe not know I see and have seene shamefull-things and yet I have not bin asham'd or blusht at it I find and feele things bitter and most tart Yet have not as I ought bin griev'd at heart Con. I this is it indeed that makes me sad For t is thy only griefe that makes me glad For by how much the more thou sencelesse art So much the more I sigh and sob and smart Thy teares are healing-tents to cure my woe Which if they from within doe gush and flow Sins-pardon life unto thy soule thou gain'st And peace of conscience inwardly obtayn'st For evils-past hurt not if not affected But if sins shame be in this life neglected The future thought thereof will worke much blame And thou wilt grieve for want of former shame Man But yet this one thing I would gladly know Wherefore thou dost distract distresse me so For if thy prickes did me not waking keepe ● might a nights more sound and sweetly sleepe Thou being quiet none would me

My joy in God and so my soule deceive Sin But yet for all this this worlds happinesse For other I know none I still professe Is the most excellent and much depends On choice of merry-mates and joviall-friends On hunting after honours heaping treasures And on enjoying various sorts of pleasures But these belike are wholly opposite To vertues practise and approv'd delight Con. Thou art mistaken Vertues are indeed True riches not base wealth which earth doth breed Worlds wealth to serue is God to disobay And though worlds-service does to worldlings pay Some seeming joy yet ever more Gods Saints Finde it a clog and cause of great complaints These do it estimate their prime perfection To passe this desert by Gods Spirits direction This state of grace heav'ns glorious place they count To be neere-kinne and long to climbe that Mount The worth of all this world hels worke they deeme Earths honours they earths tumours do esteeme But to performe Gods sacred will and pleasure They count their souls most high and happy treasure Sin What prat'st thou of thy silly Saints to me They are not of my fold nor ere will be And their encrease does decrease my great powers But who comes yonder a true friend of ours My docible young scholler Man no Saint And that 's my joy whom I must now acquaint With my rare rudiments For I suppose What 's humane touching vice within him grows Man Aye me of all men living most forlorne I too-too long in silence have forborne But now I neither can nor will forbeare Wilt thou not cease to hunt me every where Sin T is thou that hunts and haunts me to and fro Ma. I must confesse it but for doing so I now am overwhelm'd with woe and shame Yet this my sense of sins most deadly blame Being the first and firme step to salvation Makes me find hope of my Regeneration Sin How 's that this gives me very poore content Ma. I do confesse I say with full assent That I have finn'd and it was onely I Not foolish fortune or my destiny No nor the devill but evill in mine owne brest I therefore onely 'gainst my selfe protest And if I should thee O my conscience blame Or thinke my sinne from any other came I to those dogges might be resembled right Which as divine Plato doth truly write Do snap and snarle and bite the rowling stone Cast at them but regard not whence t was throwne No rather now at last with weeping eyes And wofull heart against my selfe I rise Whom I have made my worst intestine foe And treacherously ensnar'd my soule in woe Nor do I onely 'gainst my selfe thus rise But make a serious solemne-vow likewise Heav'n ratifie the same that I will ever From this time forward use my best endevour That thou O sinne shipwracke of mans salvation Shalt nere in me have willing habitation But if by force thou wilt breake in againe Yet thou shalt never domineere and raigne Con. A pious vow and godly resolution The Lord will surely bring to blest conclusion Ma. I doubt it not and therefore will persist And since I seeme of two parts to consist A Soule and Bodie If the first of these By any smallest sinne hath least disease It stings and wrings thee strait with bitter s●art O my syntericke sinne-opposing-part I therefore purpose a new course to take Whereby my conscience I may chearfull make Whereby my soule I may with grace renourish And my internall family may flourish And as for thee my flesh since thou art apt To draw in sinne and be by sinne entrapt Yea Sin as water to drinke in and sucke And he which addeth sin to sin doth plucke And hale his soule to hell as with a rope Thou delicate fine-Philistine I hope I shall thee tame new-mould and mortifie Nere let thee rest till thou with me comply To dye to sinne till I have runne my race All this I trust by power of heavenly grace Con. Most sweetly thou resolv'st O ever may God by his Spirit perfect it I pray Sin Well if thou me forsake I 'll others finde Who will me entertaine and use more kinde For whiles on earth there any men remaine I make no doubt but I shall rule and raigne Ma. But I will frustrate all thy hope in me If to my votes my God propitious be Now then my conscience let us both go in And since we are thus fairely freed of Sinne So hatefull to us both now mutually Let us rejoyce with sweet tranquility An end of the fourth Dialogue The fift DIALOGUE Betweene God and the Soule The Argument of the fift Dialogue God here the Soule most kindly greets With many sacred sugred sweets Even wooes the Soule free-love t' embrace Assures it of assistant-grace The sanctified-soule complies Bewailes her faint infirmities Resignes her selfe to Gods dispose And with his holy-call doth close God helps it on with faire directions And cheeres it on with sweet affections The Soule thus on Gods leasure waits Till He to glory It translates God A Rise my Love my Dove most pure and faire To come to Me make haste thy selfe prepare Soule What sacred voyce is this blest invitations Candy'd with such sweet loving compellations G. His who creating thee inspir'd thy life Inspiring it espons'd thee as his wife S. My great Creator and my glorious King G. Yea thy free-lover whence thy good doth spring S. I know thee O my God that thou art he Who fully freely firmly lovest me Since for my sake thy Sonne thou hast not spar'd To free me when to hell I was ensnar'd G. My Sonne I gave yea and mine onely Sonne That thou might'st not for ever be undone S And what deare God shall I repay to thee G. Nothing but love for love which pleaseth me S. What heart O Lord can be so stupifide As by thy love not to be mollifide G. That heart which hides the favours I bestow S. Lord what have I that did not from thee flow G. Returne me thanks then that thou mayst have more For grateful hearts do find my favours store S. Let my poore prayer good God ascend to thee That thy rich grace my so descend on me For by thee onely 't is I life retaine To thee then wholly Me I give againe G. Thou giv'st thy selfe to me t is well But where Where are the fruits that thou to me dost beare S. Alas O Lord what fruits can I expresse As of my selfe till thou me till and dresse If thou vouchsafe upon my heart thy field To sow such seeds as may thee good fruit yeild Thou must O Lord by thy blest hand of grace First plucke up all my weeds of vices base G. Thou say'st most true But wilt thou willingly Submit thy selfe to graces-husbandrie S. O burne me bruise me breake me heere O Lord So thou hereafter mercy dost afford O let that hand that form'd me me reforme Let it correct so it to thee conforme G. Draw