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mercy_n hear_v lord_n trust_n 2,000 5 9.7447 5 false
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A10848 A golden mirrour conteining certaine pithie and figuratiue visions prognosticating good fortune to England and all true English subiectes, with an ouerthrowe to the enemies : whereto be adioyned certaine pretie poemes written on the names of sundrie both noble and worshipfull. Robinson, Richard, fl. 1574. 1589 (1589) STC 21121.5; ESTC S4858 28,685 63

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as may be thought The common wealth in England hath distroyde And filthy flatterie these dayes is so imbraced The cogging crew away true meanyng chased And with these wordes this Lambe lookt on me fast Marke well my speach quoth he an other tyme For now thou séest that Phoebus maketh hast Into the Occidentall flouds for to decline In tyme to come trust thou no flattering friend Nor tipling tib except to much thou spend The Meritrix the furred foole doth vse Spy thou and at her mates a litle while For she and they shall reape they may not chuse The fruits they graft vpon their sinfull soyle As euery wight doth know their vice vntold Shall ere they dye their woful end behold Thus presently came Morpheus backe agayne How now my lambe quoth he hast done my will Hast told my Clarke thy mynde meaning plaine That of the world he may haue better skill I haue my Lord quoth Lambe done what I may Plainly vnto Dunstable to direct the way I thanke thée sayd Sir Morpheus for the same I will that he and thou this present tyme depart For that he beares abroad a writers name I will not stay him longer from his act Thus sodenly I wakened out of sléepe In Dreaming long this lambe became a shéepe Thus blushing brood awaken I from sléepe And on the soden dasht in drowsie dumps Began with spéed for to plucke vp my féete Because the place did put me to my iumps This desert was alas vnknowen to mée My Hawke nor Spannels could I neuer sée But what this lambe by Morpheus meanes did say With diligence I pen'd that other day FINIS The Authours name in Verdict REmember Lord for Christes sake by mercy to forgeue In iudgement on those people now that sinnefully doe liue Condemne them not that retchles are and doe thy lawes forget Haue mercy on all them that trust Christes bloud shall pay theyr det Against my wofull cries oh Lord shut not thy mercy gate Receiue my sinfull soule oh God to enter in thereat Doe not condemne me for my guilt let mercy thée perswade Reuenge not Lord my wofull workes when I in sinne did wade Oh God most high and mighty Lord in whom is all my trust Be mercyfull to those which are before thy eyes vniust In time of trouble still I cald vpon thy holy name Now doe I cry to heale my soule and trust thou hearst the same Such is thy mercy promised to them that doe relent O Lord that thou forgeuest such that faythfully repent Nothing oh God doth gréeue me more then doth my carelesse race Of wicked wilfull wretched workes I call to thée for grace For why my sinnes craue punishment and are as scarllet red And yet I trust for to be sau'd by Christes bloud that shed Looke downe with louing eyes oh Lord and heare my wofull cry Thy grace extend to guide my féete least I should wade awry O Lord my rude and carelesse life with wild and wilfull blade Now gréeueth me for conscience doth my soule in thée perswade FINIS MY dayes I sée are vayne on earth my time doth steale away My youth is past and age drawes neare my health doth still decay My lennow limmes grow dry stiffe my bones be full of payne My former pleasures workes me woe I chaunge to dust againe I not delite in mondane mucke nor in these pleasures vayne But in thy kingdome is my ioy where thou doest aye remaine Take heare my faithfull sacrifices of iust repenting heart In tyme of death deliuer Lord my soule from Sathans darts All honor glory be to thée and to thy onely sonne Who with the holy ghost be prayse thy will on earth be done FINIS AT LONDON PRINTED BY ROGER WARDE for Iohn Proctor are to be sold at his shop on Holborne bridge Anno 1589.
right Worshipfull Thomas Leigh of Adlington in the Countie of Chester Esquire To the note or tune of Domine ne in furore Psalme VI. THy mercie Lord my faith perswades although my sinnes be red How I shall be made frée to thée by Christes blood that's shed Of all my wandring wilfull dayes and rechlesse rudefull toyes My faithfull hope is for to mount to thee in lasting ioyes And as I wickedly did sinne I faithfully repent Such is thy mercie that I knowe my teares shall thée content Loe heare my teares the witnesse is my sin doth grieue me fore Estéeme O Lord my wofull plaintes I trust t'offend no more In thée my onely hope remaines on thée is all my stay Geue eare vnto my wofull cries when I shall passe away Haue minde vpon thy mercy Lord forget thy wrath and yre Erect my Spirite into thy blisse I humbly thée desire Els all my teares and grieuous plaintes returne without rewarde So shall I weare and wast in woe my cries shall not be heard Séeme not therefore to turne thy face accept my wofull suite Quit me from Sathans nets and snares his traps good Lord confute Vnto thy Maiesty O Lord I dedicate my selfe Yéeld I doe my soule to thee and leaue the world my wealth Accept thereof thou glorious God thus still on thée I crie Reuenge not Lord but mercie haue and neuer let me die All glory be vnto thy name and to thy onely sonne And to the holy Ghost with whom to vs thy kingdome come FINIS Verses penned vpon the Etimologie of the name of the right worshipfull Lady the Ladie Marie Edgarton of Ridley in the Countie of Chester THe toyled minde and weary wit that study doth oppresse Nature mooueth many waies the same for to redresse Which caused me to leaue my booke my sences to reuiue And wandring walked heare and there the time away to driue High vp a hill with wearie steps the haughtie rockes I scal'd Among the which I heard a voice that sore my heart appald Among the shrubs I shrouded was where in a trance I sate Or els some drousie dreame it was that then and there I gate Erst was I neuer in the like for there me thought I sée An armed man with bloody blade with spéed approched ny His face as fierce as flames of fire his hands imbrewd in blood And like a Lion in his rage before me stamping stood Lo here quoth he my name is Mars that am the bloody God The gleids that glow within my breast bréeds mischéefe al abrode Kings and kingdomes by the ears I dayly vse to set Murther is the thing I craue and peace I still forget And now said he pull foorth thy pen and write my sayings all For presently a wonder great appeare before thée shall Se here quoth he Megera comes with crawling snaky haire Lo in the bosomes of the best she throwes them here and there Dost thou not sée what wrath she works that lurketh close in brest And doest not view what kingdomes I to mortall war haue drest The Messenger I am quoth he that Iupiter doth send to execute his wrath on such that doe his Grace offend In vttering of these words to me far of I did heholde How Spoile was cōming his mates with al the spéed they could Whereat the skrikes of innocents with wiues virgins cries And grieuous groues of murthered men did pierce the starry skies My flesh did tremble at the sight to sée the Flames of fire The rubbery both of rich and poore Distruction did desire And vgly monstrous Rauishment defilde both maid and wife The worldly Muckscraps for their goods did daily loose their life And then came desperation post to put the rest in feare And grudging Griefe and future foes cause many to dispaire Yea Hunger haunted armour bright with cheeks both pale lean And pierceth through the sturdy stéele and wrought a mortal pain Reuenge as gréedy as a gripe made hauocke where he came Distruction with his naked blade distroyed many a man Dearth was lodg'd in euery house and kept both land and seas And almost all both olde and young bewaild the wofull daies In all thys hurlyburly there Loue shrank his Neighbours all And charitie was chac'd away Pride slipt and had a fall Myrth in euery nooke did mourne and pleasure pained sore Tom Troth was sworne for to depart the place for euermore Enuiron'd round about was peace with bloody men of of war Of Charity obscured was the blazing lampe and star And Pestilence as fier red the stoutest caus'd to stoope That Lamentation wrang his handes the countrey round about Death was the last that laid on lurtch the finall end to make and for a brag his bloody dart about his head did shake quoth he behold these mischieue mates that on S. Mors attend Gainst whom no creature can preuale til I dispatth their end Great were the brags that Mars did make and fierce his fury was and sware an oth with present spéed all this should come to passe Then did he turne himselfe about and Albion Isle he thrate Which was of Mars no sooner said but forraine foes heard that Els had I slept a longer sléepe vpon that haughty hill But that the roring Cannons voice me thought was thūping stil And noyse of armed men was such that alfright I wakte Thus rashly rushing vp for feare from thence my way did take Refusing neither hedge nor ditch nor sparing thick nor thyn No step so foule my spéedy féete made spare to step within Thus runninng rashly in this race with panting brethles breath I rested by a pleasant poole fast by a litle heath Thus reuoluing with my selfe what were the best to doo Whether to tell this dreame or no sith dreames be call'd vntrue Which maz'd my mind with triple trance what way were best to take This dream for to reueile or els to dround in Lethea lake Of th'one and th'other being basht the likliest way to chuse At length thought good to pen my dreame in stéed of better newes Beséeching God to blesse this Isle from Mars and all his mates And graunt vs peace God saue our Quéene and al the noble states No other newes for this new yeare I can your worship tell But that I trust in spite of Mars that all things shall be well Beséeching God that sits to iudge to guyde your dayes in peace With health long life and ioyfull years and worship to increase FINIS Verses penned vpon the Etimologie of the name of the right Worshipful M. Peter Warberton of Arley in the Countie of Chester Esquire PRepare a place aboue the skies Where Angels rest in ioy Out of all mundane thoughts arise Which workes the soules annoy Of Time watch well the stealing steps Take heed of youth that age forgets All thinges haue time by power deuine And Time consumeth all She hath cut off the mightiest kinges And so the rest she shall Emperour King and Kaisar she