Linguistic DNA - Concept Modelling Demonstrator

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
lord_n	word_n	wound_n	year_n	38	3	3.7774	3	false

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A44939	Pia desideria, or, Divine addresses in three books : illustrated with XLVII copper-plates / written in Latine by Herm. Hugo ; Englished by Edm. Arwaker.; Pia desideria. English	Hugo, Herman, 1588-1629.; Arwaker, Edmund, d. 1730.; Sturt, John, 1658-1730.	1686 (1686)	Wing H3350; ESTC R19094	62,987	283

that Fools are num'rous Wise-men few Nor was the prudent Moses wish in vain When he of Mans destruction did complain O that unthinking Mortals wou'd be wise And place their End before their heedful eyes Then Sins short pleasures they wou'd soon despise Not yield like Wax to ev'ry Stamp of Vice Wou'd any but a strange besotted Rout Th' Existence of a God deny or doubt These that in sin they may uncheck'd go on Perswade themselves to a belief of None Our very Crimes t' improve our Folly tend And we 're infatuate e're we dare offend Nor does the growing frenzy here give o're But from this Ill runs headlong on to more We Castles build in this inferior Air As if to have Eternal Beings here â—t when unthought-of Death shall snatch us hence â—e then shall own the fond Improvidence â—ith endless and unprofitable toil â—e strive t' enrich and beautifie the Soil â—is Soil which we must leave at last behind â— those for whom our pains were ne're design'd How does our toil resemble Childrens play â—hen they erect an Edifice of Clay â—ow idly busie and imploy'd they are â—ere some bring Straw there others Sticks prepare â—is loads his Cart with Dirt that in a Shell â—ings Water that it may be temper'd well â—nd in their work themselves they fondly pride â—hile Age the childish Fabrick does deride â— on our Work Heav'n with contempt looks down â—nd with a breath our Babel-Tow'r's o'rethrown What strange desire of Gems what thirst of Gold â—hose drops of Rain congeal'd that ripned Mold â—et these so much mens nobler Souls debase â—hat they their bliss in such mean trifles place Ah! foolish Ign'rants can your choice approâ— No more exalted Objects of your love That all your time in their pursuit you spend As if Salvation did on them depend Heav'n may be purchas'd at an easie rate But oh how few bid any thing for That Unthinking Sots that Earth to Heav'n prefer And fading Joys to endless Glory there The Crime of such an inconsid'rate choice Ought not pretend to Pardon ev'n in Boys For They from Counters currant Money know Almost as soon as they have learnt to go But Men oh shame prize counterfeit delightâ— Before the Joys to which kind Heav'n invites Oh! for some Artist to retrieve their sense E're more degrees of Folly they commence But by Heav'ns piercing Eye we are descry'd Which does our sins with Follies Mantle hide He 's pleas'd to wink at Errors too in me And seeing seems as tho he did not see He knows I 've but a slender stock of Wit â—nd want a Guardian too to manage it â— then some kind Protection Lord assign â—his Ideot Soul But 't will be best in Thine Chrysost in Joann Hom. 4. They are no better than Fools who are ever as it were dreaming of earthly things and of short continuance III. Haue mercy upon me O Lord for I am Weak O Lord heal me for my bones are vexed Psal 6. 2 III. â—ave mercy upon me O Lord for I am weak O Lord heal me for my bones are vexed Psal 6. 2. SHall my just grief be querulous or mute Full of Disease of Physick destitute â—ought thy Love so constant heretofore â—at Vows were needless to confirm me more â—d dost thou now absent and slight my pain â—at fault of mine has caus'd this cold Disdain O blest Physitian of my love-sick Soul â—ose sight alone will make thy Patient whole â—ou who hast caus'd canst thou forget my grief â—ich only from its Author seeks relief Shou'd they whose Art gave dying Fame new breath â—d rescu'd their surviving names from Death â—y in whose sight no bold Disease durst stand â— trembling vanish'd at their least command They who each Simples sov'rein Virtue knew And to their ends cou'd well apply them too Shou'd they their skill in tedious Consult try All all wou'd fail to ease my misery All their Prescriptions without Thine are vain Thine only sute the nature of my pain Thou who hast caus'd canst thou forget my griâ— Which only from its Author seeks relief See! my parch'd tongue my bodies flame declaâ— And my quick Pulse proclaims intestine Wars While so much blood 's profusely spent within That not one drop can in my cheeks be seen And the same Pulse that gave the brisk Allarms Beats a dead March in my dejected Arms My Doctors sigh and shrugging take their leave And me to Heav'n and a cold Grave bequeath While more than they the fatal sense I feel Of my lost health and their succesless skill What can the Patient hope when sad despair Discourages the lost Physician 's care â—e subtle Poyson creeps through all my Veins â—nd in my Bones the fierce Infection reigns â—y drooping head flies to my hands for aid â—t by the feeble Props is soon betray'd â—ow my last breath is ready to expire â—nd I must next to Deaths dark Cell retire â—ainly I strive my other pains to tell â—or they alas are unaccountable â— this forlorn unpity'd state I lie â—hile he who can relieve me le ts me die â—y Face is strange and out of knowledg grown â—v'n I am scarce perswaded 't is my own â—y Eyes have shrunk for shelter in my head â—nd on my Cheek the Rose hangs pale and dead â—o pow'r cou'd drive the fierce Disease away â—or force the plundring Conqu'rour from his prey My Wounds But oh that word has pierc'd my heart â—he very mention does renew their smart â—y Wounds gape wide as they wou'd let in Death â—nd make quick passage for my flitting breath Nor can they ev'n the lightest touch endure But dread the hand that wou'd attempt their Câ— For Lord my Wounds are from the Darts of â— That rage and torture my griev'd Soul within Here a hydropick thirst of Riches reigns And there Prides flatuous humor puffs my veins Next frantick Passion plays the Tyrants part And Loves o're-spreading Cancer gnaws my heaâ— Oft' to the learn'd I made my suff'rings known Oft' try'd their skill but found redress from none Not all the virtue of Bethesda's Pool Without thy help could ever make me whole Then to what healing Altar shou'd I fly But that whose prostrate Victims never die To Thee Health-giver to the world I kneel Who most canst pity what thy self didst feel There 's no sound part in all my tortur'd Soul But if thou wilt Lord thou canst make me whole See how by Thieves I spoil'd and wounded am Forget not then thy good Samaritan My fainting Spirits with rich Wine revive And for my Wounds some Balm of Gilead give Then take me home lest if I here remain My Foes return and make thy succour vain Aug. de Verb. Dom. Serm. 55. cap. 55 The whole World from East to West lies very sick but to cure this very sick World there descends an Omnipotent Physician who humbled himself even to the Assumption of a mortal body as if he had gone into the bed of the diseased IV. Look

closely each other trace And meet the Sun along his annual race While the swift hours are pressing forward still And once gone by are irretrievable Thus envious Time loves on it self to prey And still thro its own Entrails eats its way So wasting Lamps by their own flames expire And kindle at themselves their Fun'ral Fire Thus it s own course the circling Year pursues Till like the Wheels on which 't is mov'd it grows This Truth the Poets weightily exprest When they made Saturn on his Off-spring feast For Time on Months and Years its Children feeds And kills with motion what its motion breeds Hours waste their Days the Days their Months consume And the rapacious Months their Years entomb Thus Years Months Days and Hours still keep their round Till all in vast Eternity are drown'd Then Lord allow my grief some little space To mourn the shortness of my hasty race I wish not time for laughter if I did My circumstances and the place forbid All I desire is time for grief and tears Let that be all th' addition to my years Which tho but short have yet been full of sin More than my time was to repent it in Yet if thou grant'st me some few minutes more They 'll make amends for my short days before Drop then my eyes you cannot flow too fast While you delay what precious time is lost 'T is done my tears have a prevailing force And Heav'n's appeas'd now stop their eager course Hieron ad Paulam Epist 21. â—hen man first sinn'd he chang'd Eternity for Mortality Ninety years or thereabouts But sin increasing by degrees Mans life was contracted to a very short space XIV Oh! that they were wise that they understood this that they would consider their latter end Deut. 32. 29. XIV Oh! that they were wise that they understood this that they would consider their latter-end Deut. 32. 29. SHame on besotted man whose baffled mind Is to all dangers but the present blind Whose thoughts are all imploy'd on mischiefs near But ills remote never fore-see or fear The Soldier is prepar'd before th'allarm The Signal giv'n 't wou'd be too late to arm The Pylot's fore-sight waits each distant blast And loses no advantage in his haste Th' industrious Hind manures and sows the Field Which he expects a plenteous Crop should yield The lab'ring Ant in Summer stores at home Provision against Age and Winter come But oh what means Mans stupid negligence That of the future has no care or sense Does he expect Eternity below A life that shall no alteration know He 's much abus'd inevitable Death Tho it delays will one day stop his breath Vain are the hopes the firmest Leagues produce The Tyrant keeps no Faith regards no Truce He does not to the Peace he makes incline To take advantage is his whole design To him Alliance is an empty name He does all Int'rests but his own disclaim Fiercely the greedy spoiler strikes at all A prey for his insatiate Jaws too small He tears ev'n tender Infants from the breast And wraps them in a Shrowd ere for the Cradle drâ— Nor Sex nor Age the grim Destroyer spares Unmov'd alike by Innocence as Years Like common Soldiers chief Commanders die And like Commanders common Soldiers lie No shining Dust appears in Craesus Urn Tho all he touch'd he seem'd to Gold to turn â—or boasts fair Rachel's face that Beauty here â—or which the Patriarch serv'd his twice-sev'n year â—nd never thought the pleasing Purchase dear Ev'n Dives here from Laz'rus is not known For now One's Purple th' Other's Rags are gone Each has no Mansion but his narrow Cell Equal in colour and alike in smell Why then shou'd man of such vain Treasure boast So difficultly gain'd so eas'ly lost For late or early all resign their breath And bend pale Victims to their Conqu'ror Death Each Sex each Age Profession and Degree Moves tow'rds this Centre of Humanity But did they not a farther Journey go And that to die were all they had to do Cou'd but their Souls dissolve as fast away As their corrupting Carcasses decay They'd covet Death to end their present cares And for prevention of their future fears They'd to the Grave as an Asylum run And court the stroke which now they wish to shuâ— But Death alas ends not their miseries The Soul 's immortal tho the Body dies Which soon as from it s Pris'n of Clay enlarg'd At Heav'ns Tribunal's sentenc'd or discharg'd Before an awful Pow'r just and severe Round whose bright head consuming flames appear The shackl'd Captive dazl'd at his sight Dejected stands and trembles with the fright While with strict scrutiny the God surveys Its heart and close impieties displays The wretch convicted does its guilt confess Nor hopes for mercy for concealment less While He th' Accuser Judge and Witness too Damns it to an Eternity of woe Where since no hope of an Appeal appears ' Twou'd fain dissolve and drown it self in tears What terrors then seize the forsaken Soul That finds no Patron for a Cause so foul â—hen it implores some Mountain to prevent â—y a kind crush its shame and punishment O wretched Soul just Judge hard Sentence too â—hat hardn'd wretch dares sin that thinks on You â—et here alas ends not the fatal grief â—here is another Death another Life Life as boundless as Eternity Death whence shall no Resurrection be â—hat Hell of Torments shall in This be found â—ith what a Heav'n of Joys shall That abound â—hat fill'd with Musick of th' Angelick Choir â—hall the blest Souls with Extasie inspire â—hile This disturb'd at ev'ry hideous yell â—hall in the Damn'd raise a new dread of Hell â—hat knows no sharp excess of cold or heat â— This the wretches always freeze or sweat â—here reign Eternal Rest and soft Repose â—ere painful toil no end or measure knows â—hat void of grief does nought afflictive see â—his still disturb'd from trouble's never free O happy Life O vast unequall'd Bliss O Death accurs'd O endless Miseries Either to That or This we daily bend All our endeavours have no other end Be wise then Man nor let thy care be vain To shun the Mis'ry and the Bliss obtain Give Heav'n thy Heart if thou its Crown wou'dâ— gain Aug. Soliloq cap. 3. What more lamentable and more dreadful can be thought of than that terrible Sentence Go what more delightful than that pleasing Invitation Come They are two words of which nothing can be heard more affrighting than the One nothing more rejoycing than the Other My life is waxen old with heaviness and my years with mourning Psal. 31. 11 XV. My life is waxen old with heaviness and my years with mourning Psal 31. 11. WHat lowring Star rul'd my unhappy Birth And banish'd thence all days of ease and mirth â—hile expectation does delude my mind â—eas'd with vain hope some smiling hour to find â—t still that smiling hour forbears to come â—d sends a row of Mourners

Their wandring paths forbid till try'd to know Maeander's stream a streighter motion steers Tho with himself the wand'rer interferes Not the sictitious Labyrinth of old Did in more dubious paths its guests infold Here greater difficulties stay my feeâ— And on each road I thwarting dangers meet Nor I the diff'rent windings only fear In which the Artist's skill did most appear But more to heighten and increase my dread Darkness involves each gloomy step I tread No friendly tracks my wandring footsteps guidâ— Nor previous feet th'untrodden ground have try'â— And tho lest on some fatal Rock I stray With out-stretch'd arms I grope my dusky way Yet dare I not ev'n with their help proceed But night and horror stop my trembling feet Like a strange Trav'ller by the Sun forsook And in a road unknown by night o'retook In whose lone paths no neighb'ring Swains reside No friendly Star appears to be his guide No sign or track by human footsteps worn But solitary all and all forlorn He knows not but each blindfold step he tread To some wild Desart or fierce River leads Then his exalted voice does loudly strain In hope of answer from some neighb'ring Swain Still still he calls but still alas in vain Only faint Ecchoes answer him again Oh! who will help a wretch thus gone astray What friendly Cynosure direct my way A signal Cloud conducted Israels flight By day their cov'ring and their guide by night The Eastern-Kings found Bethlem too from far Led by the shining conduct of a Star Nor cou'd they in their tedious journey err Who had so bright a fellow-traveller Be thou no less propitious Lord to me Since all my bus'ness is to worship Thee See how the wandring Croud mistake their way And tost about by their own error stray This tumbles headlong from an unseen Hill That lights on a blind path and wanders still This with more haste than speed goes stumbling on That moves no faster than a Snail might run While to and fro another hasts in vain No sooner in the right than out again Here one walks on alone whose boasted skill â—nvites another to attend him still Till among Thorns or miry Pools they tread This by his guide That by himself misled Here one in a perpetual Circle moves While there another in a Lab'rinth roves And when he thinks his weary ramble done He finds alas he has but just begun Thus still the wandring Multitude does stray Scarce one of thousands keeps or finds the way Oh! that my paths were all chalk'd out by Thâ—â— From the deceits of baneful error free Till all my motion like a Dart's became Swift as its flight unerring as its aim That where thy Laws require me to obey I may not loiter nor mistake the way Then be Thou Lord the Bowe thy Law the White And I the Arrow destin'd for the flight And when thou' rt pleas'd to shew thy greatest skill Let Me dear God be thy choice Arrow still Aug Soliloq cap. 4. O Lord who art the Light the Way the Truth and the Life in whom there is no Darkness Error Vanity nor Death Say the word O Lord let there be Light that I may see the Light and shun the Darkness that I may find the right way and avoid the wrong that I may follow Truth and fly from Vanity that I may obtain Life and escape Death O hold thou up my goings in thy paths that my footsteps slipp not Psal. 17. 5. III. O hold thou up my goings in thy paths that my footsteps slip not Psal 17. 5. WHat will my faithless feet deceive me more And make false steps upon the even floor Thou who from Heav'n my motion dost approve Grant me such strength that I may firmly move The Eagles teach their unfledg'd young to fly Practis'd in towring tow'rd the lofty Sky â—ill the apt brood by bold example led â—erform the daring flight they us'd to dread â—hus Boys when first th' unusual stream they try With spungy Cork their weighty bodies buoy â—ill more improv'd they their first help disown â—mbitious now t' attempt the flood alone And thus by practice such perfection gain To sport and wanton safely in the Main Thou who from Heav'n observ'st our steps beloâ— See by what arts thy Servant learns to go While all my weight on this slight Engine 's laid I move the Wheels that do my motion aid Thus feeble age supported by a Cane Is tir'd with that on which 't is forc'd to lean Mistake not Lord th'ambiguous terms I use For of no failure I my feet accuse I can perceive no imperfection there No rocky ways or thorny roads they fear The weakness of my mind disturbs me most Whose languid feet have all their motion lost All its affections lame and bedrid are Those feet alas which shou'd its motion steer When it shou'd move in Virtues easie road Alas 't is tir'd as soon as got abroad Sometimes but rarely it renews the race And eagerly moves on a Jehu 's pace But weary of its journey scarce begun Its boasted flame is all extinct as soon As a faint Lamp by the rude North-wind blown Yet lest I shou'd too much my sloth betray I force my steps and make some little way But then am cautious not to be expos'd Lest I be thought too plentifully dos'd My reeling steps move an indented pace As 't were a Cripple hopping o're a race I will I won't I burn all in a breath And that 's scarce out e're I 'm as cold as death And then impatient at my fruitless pain Tir'd in the mid-way I go back again Yet cannot then recover my first place The pleasant seat whence I began my race Tost like a Ship on the tempestuous waves Which neither help of Sails nor rowing saves While with new vain attempts I try again And would repair the loss I did sustain The small success too manifestly proves My fruitless labor in a circle moves Thus Slaves condemn'd to ply a toilsom Mill Repeat the same returning motion still Tho still the restless Engine 's hurry'd round They by its haste gain not one foot of ground What shall I do a stranger to the race Whose lazy feet scarce move an Asses pace Heav'n lies remote from this mean Globe below None but the swift and strong can thither go What then shall this my slow-wheel'd Chariot do Thou Lord mov'st nimbly o're the rugged way Thy Gyant-feet are balk'd by no delay Thou with a step dost East and West divide And o're the world like a Colossus stride But with a Tortoice-motion I proceed Or rather like the Crab am retrograde How can I then hope to that Goal to run Which 't is the bus'ness of my life to shun But do thou Lord my trembling feet sustain Then I the Race and the Reward shall gain Amb. de fuga saeculi cap. 1. â—ho among so many troubles of the body among so many allurements of the world can keep a safe and unerring

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