Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
lord_n	heart_n	love_n	soul_n	15,430	5	5.0411	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A16794	The soules harmony. Written by Nicholas Breton	Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626?	1602 (1602)	STC 3699; ESTC S104703	4,603	38

THE Soules Harmony Written by Nicholas Breton Imprinted at London by S. Stafford for Randoll Bearkes And are to be sold at the signe of the white Vnicorne in Popes-head Alley 1602. To the right Honourable and vertuous Lady the Lady Sara Hastings Nicholas Breton wisheth all happinesse in this world and eternall ioyes hereafter RIght Honourable your zealous loue to diuine studies hath made the Muses of that Nature to present your fauour with the best fruites of their delights which in the exercise of their spirituall Contemplations haue brought sorth these comfortable Meditations which bound vp in this little volume they haue presumed with my seruice to present to your good Ladyship beseeching the same with that good fauour to accept them that may vnder heauen be the greatest grace that they desire vnto them It is intituled The Harmony of the Soule who in the gracious thoughts of Gods blessing and humble talke with his mercy thinkes her selfe halfe in heauen ere shee come there where after that you haue passed a happy pilgrimage on this earth God send you the eternall felicitie of the faithfull Your Ladyships in all humblenesse Nicholas Breton The Soules Harmony GOD. GRace in all Glories height On whom all Glories waite Describes my ioyes conceite IESVS IOy in the highest of the height of ioy Holding the state of the Celestiall story Eternall life that doth all deaths destroy Sonne to that grace that makes the Fathers Glory Vnmatched Power in Mercies Princely might Such is the substance of my Soules delight CHRIST CLeere is the Sunne that doth for euer shine Heauenly that light that giues al eyes their seeing Royal that Crown which neuer can decline Imperious Power that giues all powers their being Such is the Power the Crown the Light the Sun That neuer ends where Glory first begun MY soules loues life lifes loues soules delight How highly are thy holy Angels blest That in thy grace enioy the glorious sight Wherein the summe of all their ioy doeth rest What heauenly musike may those Muses sing Who set their consorts by thy sacred skill And Angels quauers make the Quiere to ring While vertues Ayre doe all the voyces fill How may those Spirits be with ioyes possest That may be rauisht with this Royall sight Where Peter sawe and in his seeing blest My soules lifes loue and loues lifes soules delight Oh blessed Peter blest in such a seeing Well might he sing Sweet Lord here is good being O Gracious God and Lord of mercies might VVhy do I liue amid this world of woes VVhen euery day doth seeme to me as night VVhile sorrowes seeke my Spirites ouerthrowes I heare thy word and would obey thy will But want the power that might performe my due I know the good and fayne would leaue the ill And feare the sorrow that doth sinne ensue And yet I fall into that depth of sinne That makes me feare the iudgement of thy wrath Vntill thy grace doth all my helpe beginne To know what comfort Faith in Mercy hath Oh blessed light that shewes in Mercies eye While faith doth liue that loue can neuer die LOrd when I thinke how I offend thy will And know what good is in obedience to it And see my hurt and yet continue still In doing ill and cannot leaue to doe it And then againe doe feele that bitter smart That inward breeds of pleasures after payne When scarce the thought is entred in my heart But it is gone and sinne gets in againe And when againe the act of sinne is past And that thy grace doth call me backe againe Then in my teares I runne to thee as fast And of my sinnes and of my selfe complayne What can I doe but cry Sweet Iesus saue me For I am nothing but what thou wilt haue me O Lord that liuest in that life of life Which all thou art and of thy selfe alone Whose sacred word is that soules cutting knife That doth deuide the marrow from the bone O glorious God of grace and mercy more Then heart and soule are able to conceaue And seest the teares that mercy doth implore And wilt not Faith in feares discomfort leaue My God my Lord my soules lifes dearest loue How so my sinnes haue thy displeasure moued Let my soulesteares thy glorious mercy moue To make me feele how faith may be beloued That being set from sinne and sorrow free I may not cease to sing in praise of thee MY heauenly Loue frō that high throne of thine Where gracious mercy sits in Glories seat In that true pity of thy Power diuine That dries the teares that mercy doe entreat Behold sweet Lord these bleeding drops of loue That melt my soule in sorrow of my sinne And let these showres some drops of mercy moue That in my griefe my comfort may beginne Let not despaire confound my praying hope That begs an almes at thy mercies gate But let thy grace thy hand of bountie ope That comfort yeelds which neuer comes too late That in the cure of my consuming griefe My ioyfull soule may sing of thy reliefe OH that my soule were purified so It might no more be subiect vnto sin And that my care might onely seeke to know How humble grace doth mercies loue begin Oh that my thoughts my words deeds were such As might not swarue from my deare Sauiours will And that my truth might neuer haue a tutch Of false conceit for to excuse mine ill And that this world were vnto me a hell But where I see his Saints in their loues seruice And I might die till I might liue to dwell In some such place to do some pleasing office That he might be who doth my death destroy All aboue all and all in all my Ioy. THe worldly prince doeth in his Septer hold A kind of heauen in his authorities The wealthy miser in his masse of gold Makes to his soule a kind of Paradice The Epicure that eates and drinkes all day Accounts no Heauen but in his hellish rowtes And she whose beauty seemes a sunny day Makes vp her heauen but in her babies clowtes But my sweete God I seeke no Princes power No misers wealth nor beauties fading glosse VVhich pāper sin whose sweetes are inward sowre And sorry gaynes that breed the Spirits losse No my deare Lord let my Heauen onely bee In my Louesseruice but to liue to thee O God forgiue the greatnesse of my finne I am not worthy to implore thy Grace The loathsome stinke that I lie tumbling in With filthy shame hath couered all my face I haue deseru'd the depth of all thine ire To know thy will yet wilfully offend My soule deserues in the infernall fire To feele the torments that shall neuer end But Lord thy mercy is aboue thy wrath Thou doest not ioy to see a sinners death And true repentance in thy mercie hath The blessed food that giues the spirit breath Where praying hope in heart can perish neuer While humble faith doth liue in