Selected quad for the lemma: mercy_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
mercy_n	holy_a	son_n	trinity_n	4,094	5	10.4029	5	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A21162	The paradyse of daynty deuises Conteyning sundry pithy preceptes, learned counsels, and excellent inuentions, right pleasant and profitable for all estates. Deuised and written for the most part, by M. Edwardes, sometimes of her Maiesties Chappell: the rest, by sundry learned gentlemen, both of honor, and worship, whose names hereafter folowe.; Paradise of daynty devises	Edwards, Richard, 1523?-1566.	1578 (1578)	STC 7517; ESTC S111775	54,585	90

due desarte The pensiue pathe that guids my restlesse race Are at suche warre within my wounded brest As doeth bereue my ioye and eke my rest My greedie will that seeks the golden gaine My lucklesse lot doeth alwaie take in worthe My mated mynde that dreades my sutes in vaine My piteous plaint doeth helpe to set it forthe So that betwene twoo waues of ragyng seas I driue my daies in troubles and desease My wofull eyes doe take their chief delight To feede their fill vpon the pleasaunt maze My hidden harmes that growe in me by sight With pinyng paines doe driue me frō the gaze And to my hope I reape no other hire But burne my self and I doe blowe the fire FINIS I. Haiwood Looke or you leape IF thou in suertie safe wilt sitt If thou delight at reste to dwell Spende no more words then shall seme fitt Let tonge in silence talke expell In all things that thou seest men bent Se all saie nought hold thee content In worldly woorks degrees are three Makers doers and lookers on The lookers on haue libertie Bothe the others to iudge vpon Wherefore in all as men are bent See all saie nought holde thee content The makers ofte are in faulte founde The doers doubte of praise or shame The lookers on finde surest grounde Thei haue the fruite yet free from blame This doeth perswade in all here ment See all saie nought holde thee content The Prouerbe is not South and West Whiche hath bee saied long tyme agoe Of little medlyng cometh rest The busie man neuer wanteth woe The beste waie is in all world 's sent See all saie nought holde thee content FINIS Iasper Heywood Though Fortune haue set thee on hie Remember yet that thou shalt die TO die Dame nature did man frame Death is a thyng moste perfecte sure We ought not natures workes to blame She made nothyng still to endure That lawe she made when we were borne That hence we should retourne againe To render right we must not scorne Death is due debt it is no paine The ciuill lawe doeth bid restore That thou hast taken vp of truste Thy life is lent thou must therefore Repaie except thou be vniuste This life is like a pointed race To the ende wherof when man hath trode He must retourne to former place He maie not still remaine abrode Death hath in all the yearth a right His power is greate it stretcheth farre No Lorde no Prince can scape his wight No creature can his duetie barre The wise the iust the strong the hie The chast the meke the free of hart The riche the poore who can denie Haue yelded all vnto his darte Could Hercules that tamde eche wight Or els Vlisses with his witte Or Ianus who had all foresight Or chast Hypolit scape the pitte Could Cresus with his bagges of golde Or Irus with his hungrie paine Or Signus through his hardinesse bolde Driue backe the daies of Death againe Seyng no man then can Death escape Nor hire hym hence for any gaine Wee ought not feare his carraine shape He onely bryngs euell men to paine If thou haue ledde thy life a right Death is the ende of miserie If thou in God hast thy delight Thou diest to liue eternallie Eche wight therefore while he liues here Let hym thinke on his diyng daie In midst of wealthe in midst of chere Let hym accompt he must awaie This thought makes man to God a frende This thought doeth banishe pride and synne This thought doeth bryng a man in th ende Where he of Death the field shall winne FINIS T. Marshall The complaint of a Synner O Heauenly God O Father deare cast doune thy tender eye Vpon a wretche that prostrate here before thy throne doeth lye O powre thy precious oyle of grace into my wounded harte O let the dropps of mercie swage the rigour of my smarte My faintyng foule suppressed sore with carefull clogge of synne In humble sorte submitts it self thy mercie for to winne Graunt mercie then O Sauiour sweete to me moste wofull thrail Whose mornfull crie to thee O Lorde doeth still for mercie call Thy blessed will I haue despised vpon a stubborne mynde And to the swaie of worldly thyngs my self I haue enclinde Forgettyng heauen and heauēly powers where God saincts do dwell My life had like to tread the pathe that leads the waie to hell But now my Lorde my lode starre bright I will no more doe so To thynke vpon my former life my harte doeth melte for woe Alas I sigh alas I sobbe alas I doe repent That euer my licencious will so wickedly was bent Sith thus therefore with yernfull plaint I doe thy mercie craue O Lorde for thy greate mercies sake let me thy mercie haue Restore to life the wretched soule that els is like to die So shall my voyce vnto thy name syng praise eternallie Now blessed be the Father first and blessed be the Sonne And blessed be the holie Ghoste by whom all thyngs are doen Blesse me O blessed Trinitie with thy eternall grace That after death my soule maie haue in heauen a dwellyng place FINIS F. Kindlemarsh The fruite that sprynges from wilfull wits is ruthe and ruins rage And sure what heedelesse youth committes repentaunce rues in age I Rage in restlesse ruthe and ruins rule my daies I rue to late my rechlesse youth by rules of reasons waies I ranne so long a race in searche of surest waie That leasure learnde me tread the trace that ledde to leude decaie I gaue so large a raine to vnrestrained bitt That now with proofe of after paine I waile my want of witt I trifled forthe the tyme with trust to self conceites Whilst plenties vse prickt forthe my prime to search for sugred baites Wherein once learnde to finde I founde so sweete a taste That due foresight of after speede self will estemed waste Whiche will through wilfulnesse hath wrought my witlesse fall And heedelesse youthes vnskilfulnesse hath lapt my life in thrall Whereby by proofe I knowe that pleasure breedeth paine And he that euill seede doeth sowe euill fruite must reape againe Let suche therefore whose youth and purses are in Prime Foresee and shun the helpelesse ruthe whiche sues misspence of tyme. For want is nexte to waste and shame doeth synne ensue Euill speedyng proofe hath heedelesse haste my self haue proued it true When neighbours nexte house burnes t is tyme thereof take heede For Fortunes wheele hath choise of turnes whiche change of chances breede My saile hath been a lofte though now I beare but lowe Who clims to high selde falleth softe dedst ebbe hath highest flowe FINIS ꝙ Yloop. 1578.