Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
lord_n	die_v	live_v	sin_n	11,389	5	5.6072	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A79264	Englands sad posture; or, A true description of the present estate of poore distressed England, and of the lamentable condition of these distracted times, since the beginning of this civill, and unnaturall warr. / presented to the Right Honourable, pious and valiant, Edward, Earle of Manchester.	Calver, Edward, fl. 1649.; Manchester, Edward Montagu, Earl of, 1602-1671.	1644 (1644)	Wing C315; ESTC R170351	22,334	53

Wherein the soules of very Saints must be Till by the suits of living men set free If thus the living for the dead must pray VVhat can you for the suits of dead men say Fond man have you no better helpes to clayme Your hopes are weake then and amisse doe ayme Malignants Raving Oh mserable world what times are here What ever praying yet no ease appearc Our states consumd our selves consumd and lost Besides a sea of guiltlesse blood 't hath cost And all forsooth to satisfie some few Some most precise or most prodigious crew Or to speake truly might we speake so farr To helpe to mayntaine a Rebellious warr Accurst be those occasion'd our betraying Into this thraldome what no end of praying And these perfidious Roundheads who so farr Doe strive to further such unnaturall warr Is this Religion you that seem so pure That kill in publike could be so demure Finde you occasion now to vent that spleen VVhich in your bosomes boyld so long unseen The Epigram Perverse Malignants if I had the skill Had Art as I have Inke within my quill I would so paint you that you in this booke Should finde and should confesse your are mistooke Mistook indeed could you else so mistile Yea so miscensure malice and revile Those men whose lives t is manifestly knowne Have been by odds more vertuous then your owne More vertuous true t is that you doe envy Because your vices are condemn'd thereby Earth blinded moles but will you blame the day Because it doth your deeds of night bewray Earth blinded sure this Epithite befits T is only earth doth thus distract the wits In earthly things did you no dammage finde You would remaine as silent men as blinde Good Christians craving Sure Lord thy Iustice and thy Mercies strive Thy mercy would have England kept alive Thy Iustice on the other side doth crye England is guilty guilty let it dye Lord canst thou be thus as it were distrest Because that England will not seek for rest And canst thou England not lament thy fate When God himselfe seems so Compassionate Oh England England let our suits make speed That mercy may with Iustice beagreed For it is certaine till there be this peace Above our warrs will not belowe surcease But gratious God whose mercy doe appeare Then when thy Iustice seems to domincere Sith England is not of thee yet forgot Though thou dost scourge it yet consume it not The Epigram Heavens helpe you Christians you are well imployd Helpe you to pray for prayers will provide You are the souldiers in this time of need That are most faithfull and most like to speed You are both voluntary yea and prest Oh ply your place your Amunitions best You have Rams hornes whose shrill Ecchoes shall Make Rome to totter Ierico to fall Then though your weapons be condemn das slight Yet be not daunted but maintaine your fight The noble Captaine in whose cause you stand Can where and when and how he list command Then though you dare not in your own strength trust Yet call your Captaine and your conquer must Fight then with comfort doe not faile therein Pray without ceasing I shall say Ames Our Sinnes provoking Lord thou with England well mayst be in ire Yea be to England a consuming fire Its sinns are greivous very Sodome like Sure the are full Lord it is time to strike Fulnesse of bread much idlenesse and pride Were Sodoms sinns but therefore Sodome died England in all these hath polluted been Shall England live then Lord repay its sinn Thou didst indeed great Ninivy forbeare But it repented Ionah being there Thou hast to England many Ionahs sent But drowsie England doth not yet repent Nay England hath thy messengers abus'd Contemnd thy Message thy commands refus'd Profayn'd thy Sabboths nay t is come to passe That England once more falls in love with Masse The Epigram Thy accusations sinne are sure too just And what with sorrow we acknowledg must That we have nothing to thy charge to lay But only this that thou didst us betray Thou didst allure us till the baite we took But now dost wound us kill us with the hook Most subtle fisher but most simple wee Who in thy baites could not our baine feresee But England England let us be more wise See here the cause from whence our cares arise This is indeed that deadly darling foe Which both betrays us and consumes us so This is that viper in our bowells bleeding Which whiles we suffer on our soule lyes feeding To kill this bratt then only can doe good To stop this vent can only staunch our blood Gods Anger smoaking Ah foolish England hadst thou but confest Thy faults in time thou mightst have been at rest But as thou long time hast been luke-warme cold Thou hast of late been desperatly bold But though thou wouldst not yet did J lament thee And in my mercy many warnings sent thee Besides examples of my wrath for sin VVhich pointing at thee from all parts have been I put my spirit of fore-telling harmes Upon thy teachers who have sought by charmes Both by entreaties and by threats to win Or to awake thee from thy sleep in sin But thou hast counted their reports untrue False teachers therefore justly are thy due That through delusions as it is ensuing Thou mightst be seal'd up to thy utter ruine The Epigram Great God of Europe God of England then Though we have set up other Gods therin Thou dost most justly charge us nay t is much That thy forbearance hath so long been such Been such indeed we long have sinnd but stil Thou seemdst to winck although we knew thy will We had thy word still sounding in our eares Which though we loath'd still still thou didst forbear's Nothing could urge thee till we took in hand To set up Dagon where thy Arke should stand To set up Idolls in thy name and place And bowd before them to thy very face But this hath urgd thee once more to a flood At least in England and that too of blood But when this deludge shall have washt this land Lord rest thy Arke heer let not Dagon stand The Sword proceeding Proceed t is certaine how can I be still When God himselfe hath given mee charge to kill Can I suppose you in my Scabbard rest And am by such an awfull Captaine prest But I have further summons in this thing England I have a warrant from thy King From awfull powerfull angry Charles besides Within whose keeping much command abides He is offended at the very heart And hath commanded I should take his part Then England doe not blame me as unkinde Though I consume thee beeing thus enjoyn'd No no but England wouldst thou have release Thou must with God then and thy King make peace For till they stay me by a new command I must not will not cannot stay my hand The Epigram Thou sword of England thou hast truly sayd Thou canst not

your care in this Be so precise then and now so remisse My Father did but once offend at first And was for ever sentenced accurst But cockerd mankind disoebyes you still And yet is favour'd sufferd in his ill Looke downe on England on that divine Eden See how it surfets on the fruit forbidden Nay with my Father it aspires the Crowne Whereon he dored oh then cast it downe The Epigram Sin thou hast surely drawne thy picture well And justly claim'st thy pedigree from Hell Thou and the Divell are so neere allyd That where thou actest he doth cheifely guide Satan that serpent is indeed thy sire And thou his viper art his chiefe desire Although thy hatching most unhappie birth Lost him the comforts both of heaven and earth Sin thou indeed maist silly man accuse That with thy nature thou shouldst his abuse Man who by nature in Gods Image shind Should in thy Image now the Divell finde But sin thou Serpent though thou hast the Art To cosen mankind and accuse him for 't Accuse not God though whose proceeding must By thy false Father be acknowledg just Gods Anger smoaking Oh! England England foolish England nay Thou knowst it and dost yet reject thy day My goodnesse to thee is so long exprest Thou furferst with is thou dost love the tast Nay yet more sor did more perverse by much Because thou findst my long forbearance such Thou fondly thinkst me like thy selfe no doubt Or else dost judge my eie of justice out Thy sinns they are ascended and declare Thee so rebellious that I blush to heare Can so much mercy be so much withstood Ah it repents me I have done thee good Cease then my mercy thou in vaine art showne And stirr my justice be to England knowne Those mercies wherein it could finde no tast Now make them longd for or else lay it wast The Epigram Lord Lord t is true we must though to our shame Confesse unto the glory of thy Name That England hath been infinitely blest In takeing from thee though returning least England hath been like Eden therein growing All fruits delicious streames of pleasures flowing But oh fond England thus well streamd and fruited Hath took a surfer and those streames polluted England must therefore guilty guilty cry Though England therefore sentenc'd be to dye But its accuser is its foe nay thine Then see his malice let thy mercy shine But Lord thy justice must have course t is true But with thy justice doe thy mercy shewe Sin to thy judgment England hath subjected Let sin be slayne for 't England but corrected The Sword proceeding Come I must rouse now must no longer rest In grosse oblivion I from heaven am prest But is this certaine yes it is decreed My Captaine calls me I must then proceed The Lord of Hoasts now utters his command And send commssion downe into my hand That I to judgment must proceed in hast By taking vengeance and in laying wast Especially in England where I slept So many late long yeares in durance kept That I through length of time neglect and dust Was quite forgotten and consumd with rust But now I have comission a decree Of Englands follyes to revenged bee Of Englands blood now must I drinke my fill And scoure the rust off with the dropps Ispill The Epigram Infatuate weapon oh Remorselesse foe Thou without pittre dost thou rigour showe But senselesse England that thou thus shouldst urge A God so gentle to use such a scourge England England how wilt thou have ease This wrath thou canst not in the sword appease That raves and rages as if warrs did choose To make this Realme his place of Randevouze But sword thou sparst not car'st not who complaine To invocate thee then is endlesse vaine Alasse for England Lord t is thus undone But thou hast mercy though the sword hath none Lord check the sword then thou alone hast power And sword though thou hast licence to devoure And eate up England must thou drinke the blood Of Gods owne servants is not that too good The Kingdome bleeding Bleeding indeed alasse my wounds are wide The sword makes issues streames on every side Yea bleed so fully I to faint beginne My heart is wounded and I bleed within Nay bleed not only blood but t is my griefe That I in bleeding can have no reliefe No meanes no Surgeon can be found hath are To stanch my issue stay my bleeding heart Oh sad condition no salve to applie Can stop this currant must I bleeding die Most wretched I then have I such a vent So deep a wound when all my balme is spent But fooolish England that I took no heed In time of plenty for a time of need I in my health built Castles in the aire But now in sicknesse loe I now dispaire The Epigram England deare England I must hold thee so Deare in my thoughts though now in deadly woe Thy blood must doubtlesse soone be spent indeed When in thee almost every vaine doth bleed Thy streames run swiftly not by dropping shed But streames are flowing as if fountaines bled Fountaines indeed as well as Conduits small Th' impartiall sword makes no respect at all But oh thou God of England and of warr And eke of peace where people humbled are The sword it selfe is most remorselesse steel But yet thy hand that strikes therewith can feel England then England seek unto that hand That awfull power full that gave the sword command That Lord of all that God of Hoasts indeed He orders Battells only helps at need Our King turmoiling You higher powers can you so knit your brow Upon the owner of a Crowne below That Charles whom his dominions should obey Should only beare the Scepter not the sway Supremest powers this may indeed be due As my correction if your hand I view But if I view them whom your just command Hath made my subjects may they Charles withstand Unhappie Charles then but you higher Chaires Who have the rule of all Terrene affairs Though you and justly overrule my Crowne Yet give me leave to keep my subjects downe Let from your fountaynes so much fulnesse spring If I command not I am then no King Suits it with Royall dignity that we Should subject to a subjects party be The Epigram Great King of Kings who hast the cheife command Within whose hand our Sove●aigns heart is spand Teach him to pray for what befits him best And then in mercy answer his request Lord give him wisdome to discerne his foes And then a weapon to prevaile on those And let thy greatnesse to his grace make deere Not men insinuating but sincere And gracious Soveraigne if poore ashes may As for your highnesse to your highnesse pray Esteem not men for acts in State most fitt Who in Religion never acted yet T is fear'd that the preferments the promotion Attends on many takes up their devotion And men aspiring are the least to trust Religion only bindes