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	let_v	see_v	12,443	5	3.3866	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A03406	The gluttons feauer. VVritten by Thomas Bancroft	Bancroft, Thomas, fl. 1633-1658.	1633 (1633)	STC 1353; ESTC S114913	21,542	43

on his fingers end For oh my torments in this fiery Lake At whose dread Name the peccant soule should quake Who can expresse my sorrowes boundlesse are As are thy ioyes and both beyond compare For cursed Sodome didst thou strongly pleade When ore their sinnes incensed vengeance hung But more dire droppes this goary heart hath bled Then on those heads the flaming tempest flung A hotter storme broyles this bewailing tongue Then let thy pitty to my plaints awake And on my woes some deare compassion take He ended when as if the spheares had rung Some tune-full change or thunder learn'd to chide In milder language or some Cherub sung With powerfull voyce that Hell to silencety'd From his high throne the Patriarch repli'd Whose sacred words first steept in heauenly dew Thus from his lippes in golden vollies flew What change is this what wonder strikes mine eare Art thou the man that did supinely sleepe On pleasures couch vnto the world so deare That now benighted in th' infernall deepe Dost thus ra●e out thy sorrowes howle and weepe While I scorn'd wretch that at thy gates did pine Doth in full Orbe of heauenly glory shine Where 's now your power you that proudly could Lead your blind Goddesse in a golden chaine Where now your roabes so gorgeous to behold Your mounts of Gold rais'd in your worldly raigne Of friends and parasites your pompous traine Did all like leaues fly with your flitting breath And leaue you naked in that storme of death Fond prodigall to spend an age of Gold And act at last a woefull beggers part When nought auailes thy sorrowes to vnfold A thousand times vnhappy that thou art That ' boue thy dish wouldst neuer raise thy heart When mercy smil'd vpon thee from the skies How canst thou now lift vp those wretched eyes Doe but thy times of pleasure now record That didst no God but Gluttony confesse For whom thy house a Temple did afford Whose Altar was thy table of excesse Which still the fattest Sacrifice did presse The hallowed water was delicious wine The fire thy lust that neuer did decline Amongst thy cuppes with Rosy garlands crown'd Cens'd with perfumes in Princely purple drest All cares extinct all sorrowes deepely drown'd Still didst thou sit becalmd with ease and rest Mirth in thy face and solace in thy brest But as for Heauen it was a Pole to high For thy bruite sense that would to pleasure fly On basest Earth was centred all thy rest That drossy masse expos'd to lowest scorne Which how it seemes like some foule wormy nest Of nature quite abandon'd and forelorne Clos'd in the thicket of sharpe rending thorne Whose prickles cares whose leaues deceitfull arts And stony fruits are hard vnfruitfull hearts 'T is but a Field where sinne corruption sowes Where euery breaths infection blastes an eare Against the graine where euery creature goes Yet on this sandy base that nought will beare How high thou didst thy bold ambition reare Whose honour 'fore the thunder-clap of death Was but a flash and vanisht with thy breath Looke how a Porcpisce in the boyling Maine Ioy●d with the newes of some tempestuous blast Playes in the waues as in the winds disdaine While the poore Sea-man sadly climbs his Mast Folds vp his sailes and in his frights agast Heaues his pale eyes these powers to implore To waft his light Barke to the restfull shore So let high Heauen that with a piercing beame Disclouds each thought his wrathfull forehead bend Still wouldst thou wallow in full pleasures streame Let poore pin'd Lazarus all day extend His bloodlesse hands and throate with clamours rend Yet as thy heart had from some Rocke bin hew'd Nor storme it fear'd nor calme of pitty shew'd Now shall thy iudge thy cruelty requite And strike that fire from out thy flinty brest Shall to his glory lend a forced light Nor shall the throwes of anguish euer wrest The tune-full heart with heauenly vertue blest Nor sinne still trumph but too late shall thinke Vengeance nere sleepes though iustice seeme to winke Still still ingulfed in that Brimstone-flood That rowles about those griesly vaults of night Shalt thou bewai●e that lost eternall good Whereof this Saint enioyes the ioyfull sight A plenilune of neuer-waining light Whose very glimpse would cleare all clouds of woe And make to life dead seas of sorrow flow Behold this Bower rear'd so high aboue Those iarring elements their heate and cold Those cloudy Tents that with the wind remoue Or restlesse Orbes with rapid motion rowl'd No Earth quake vndermines this happiest hold Vpon these battlements no tempest fals No thunder batters these imperiall Wals. It is that Pallace built to lasting ioyes Into whose height the King of glory goes That in his hand the mundane Globe doth poize And to the blest a world of pleasure showes To whom he doth rich Diademes dispose That here as pendant on the golden threads Of their pure liues adorne their happy heads Wall'd all with Iasper is this lofty Bower Which as his base vnualued gemmes vphold The Porters Angels high in place and power Each gate a pearle of bright celestiall mould The pauement Starres fixt in eternall Gold Roof'd as with Siluer with condensed flame Of glorious light that filles th' immortall frame In dazeling splendour of ten thousand dayes Shines the high Monarch that all glory lends Sunning all treasures in those precious rayes On whom the heauenly hierarchie attends As on whose Throne all vitall ioy depends In his pure beames let flights of Angels soare And with presented Crownes all Kings adore Pay worlds of Nations tribute to this King That doth their States in happines inuest Let his high prayses with the Sunne take wing And cleare the Firmament from East to West Great glorious Lord by all thine Armies blest Thou in whose hand I see that golden reed Measure my heart and let my zeale proceed Pure Maiesty that mayst all Crownes refine Thrise hallowed flame of light of life of loue Bright Orbe of grace that doth to glory shine High treasurer of honours stor'd aboue Circle and center vnto all that mooue Natures sweet Organist thy highest straine What voyce can reach to sing thy happi'st raigne One beame of thine out-shines a world of light One call would start corruption from the graues One glance would cleare the cloudy brow of night One nod becalme the Oceans surging waues One smile send sorrow sighing to his canes One Altar-sparke of thine in lightlesse Hell Would kindle day and all the shades dispell Of Heauens rich beauties to the rauisht sight One mirrour here all treasures doe reflect One Globe all beames of glory doth vnite One load-starre all the voyagers direct One soueraigne power in safety all protect One banquet here both soules and senses feasts And filles and feeds nor euer cloyes the guests The ten-fold curtaine of these azure spheares Serues but to vaile this Arke from fleshly eyes But when her head the soule exultant reares With open wings

Recall one houre of thousands vainely spent Wherein I might my wretched age lament 'T were worth a Kingdome wert thou now my friend A dearer fauour Time could neuer lend Then would I purge the venome of my heart And beate my brest that did the viper keepe With sharpe compunction euery sense should smart My clouded braine with sad defluxion weepe And all my sinnes lie drown'd in sorrowes deepe So some few minutes might my losse repay And crowne a blacke night with a ioyfull day What heauy darknesse highest Lord of Light Doth thus oppresse me in this dreadfull place Ah! might I once enioy thy blisfull sight T' admire new worlds of wonder in thy face How were I happy in so high a grace Once to behold though then for euer blind In one blest knot all beauties sweete combin'd High-honour'd Victours ioyn'd in glorious Quiuers To sing his praises that your conquest crown'd Where hoasts of Angels like bright mounting fires Tread the dimn'd Stars in measure to the sound Whilst wretched I sighes plaints and cries confound T' haue lost at once both Crowne and State diuine For pleasures base for sinnes deceitfull shine If I haue mourn'd to see that Prince of day When the pale loue-sicke Lady of the maine In a kind treason clipt his golden ray But straight restor'd it to the world againe How should mine eyes these bitter floods refraine But weepe his absence at whose glory bright A thousand sunny Lampes their beauties light Haue I not seene a daring vapour rise High into ayre ambitious to ascend But straight imprison'd in the cloudy skies How it spittes lightning roares and seemes to rend Those glittering curtaines as at once to spend The angry engines of hot Heauen to fright And start old Chaos from the deepes of night How then must I for euer damned thrall Barr'd from my blisse and center of my rest The soueraigne prize and source of pleasures all That onely feast's the spirit fill's the brest In endlesse honours doth the soule inuest How must I here in woes that know no bound Then the whole world a dearer soule confound Those slumbering yeeres I did in pleasure spend Why did they wake in death in woe expire Or sith so soone they started to their end Stopping the torrent of my wild desire Why should my torments in this ruthlesse fire Suruiue all ages and my griefes amount To higher summes then euer time shall count Oft haue I knowne an exhalation trie The centers strength and trembled to behold How it shooke Mountaines and dranke Riuers dry Still thirsty of reuenge as if it would For false imprisonment the Earth haue rowl'd From her deepe seat the massie base vp-blowne And the huge frame to vaste confusion throwne And doe I here empal'd in floods of fire That trembles to behold the farthest light Struggle with dying panges and nere expire Yet arm'd with rage my miseries to right Confound not Heauen and Earth in fell despight That I might see though in ●he ruin'd skie Some sparkes of ioy before all comfort die Vp Snaky vengeance in a fiery storme Bring on thy Furies all the cursed band I shall out-face thee in thy vgliest forme Shake all thy whippes and kindle euery brand Thou shalt not fright nor force me from my stand Let me that here all hoasts of Heauen defie Thy Stygian troopes all plagues infernall trie Come griesly torturers of ruthlesse Hell My coale-blacke scorpions i● no blacker art Hath charm'd your rage that chain'd in darknesse dwell Fixe all your stinges in center of my heart With poinant anguish strike through euery part And where more strong some vitall force remaines Set to your tortures sharpen all my paines O for some pyramid to proudest fame Rear'd high as Babell on whose mounting spire Sith I must perish in a cursed flame Like some dire meteor streaming blood and ire I might stand centred in this hellish fire That with hot fury might his axell burne From the maine globe and all to cinders turne 'T were worth my ruine 'mongst the starres to fall Like Lucifer shot headlong for his pride To see the bolts of vengeance grind the ball Of the curst Earth benighted nature slide To her first dungeon and all creatures hide Their formes in darkenesse 't were a sport to make Confusion shout and hell with laughter shake But whither runnes my madnesse how I raue Must woe and mischiefe euer be my theame Still must I call for death yet keepe the graue Through rage and anguish must I still blaspheame And fry and freeze with heat and cold extreame Still must I howle at heauen and bite my chaine And gnash my teeth through horrour of my paine Were I more yeeres then time hath minutes spent Or this burst frame would into atomes fly In all the plagues deepe hell could ere inuent Adiudg'd to languish and vnpitied lie Yet lastly liue or lost in darkenesse die Still were my hope a Halcyon to appease These angry stormes and calme these boiling Seas Were the hot engines all that euer flew With red-wing'd lightning to my torture cast Vnto more flames then euer Aetna threw Were I condemn'd and yet releas'd at last When thousand myriads of slow yeeres were past 'T w●re yet a solace that in darkesome night Of heauiest woes would shew my sorrowes light But Oh the griefe this euer-raging fire Which the incensed breath of heauen doth feed Th' immortall death that on my heart doth tire This cursed heart that euermore must bleed How farre it doth the direst thought exceed How quite confound me in a state of woe That onely hell is deepe enough to know But stay what wonders doe mine eyes behold What strange impressions in so high a spheare Two sunnes at once embeam'd with flaming Gold Rather two Saints that in that State appeare What thrones they hold what Palmes in triumph beare What Diademes they weare what Roabes that shine Not like my purple but like rayes Diuine 'T is Abraham for Faith so farre renown'd With that Saint-begger was so low debas'd With wants and sores but now with glory Crown'd Blest Lazarus how highly is he grac'd With how deare armes of amity embrac'd His life 's poore stocke he might with comfort spend That was assur'd of such a bosome-friend I will assay what mercy raignes aboue That with some truce affliction may befriend Deare Patriarch if paine may pittie moue If sorest throwes that euer heart did rend If heauiest sorrowes may so high ascend To a sad captiue curst to blackest woe With fauour shine and some sweet comfort show Thou that enthron'd vpon the golden Poles Dost drinke rich Nectar from th' i●mortall spring To thy ioy'd children there triumphant soules So may fresh armies serue thy Heauenly King And vnto thee glad newes of conquest bring Doe not in honours happy court disdaine A wretches plaint the language of my p●ine Let from thy bosome Lazarus descend With one cold droppe my burning tongue to slake One droppe of water