Selected quad for the lemma: rest_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
rest_n	day_n	keep_v	week_n	3,078	5	10.0731	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A67822	The idea of Christian love being a translation, at the instance of Mr. Waller, of a Latin sermon upon John xiii, 34, 35, preach'd by Mr. Edward Young ... ; with a large paraphrase on Mr. Waller's poem Of divine love ; to which are added some copies of verses from that excellent poetess Mrs. Wharton, with others to her.	Young, Edward, 1641 or 2-1705.; Waller, Edmund, 1606-1687. Of divine love.; Wharton, Anne, 1632?-1685. Poems. Selections.	1688 (1688)	Wing Y61; ESTC R14445	29,505	144

the Tomb so many Heros taught By those that guided their Devotion fought Thrice happy we could we like Ardour have To gain his Love as they to win his Grave Love as he lov'd A Love so unconfin'd With Arms extended would embrace Mankind Self-Love would cease or be dilated when We should behold as many Selves as Men All of one Family in Blood Ally'd His precious Blood that for our Ransom dy'd Paraph. XXXVI The Drums or Trumpets horrid sound Would not the boding Heart with Terror wound Nor would the Princes cloath themselves with Steel While they than that no more relentings feel Tho 't were to gain our Saviour's Monument And like the Ark from the curst Philistines To bring it unto Israel's happy Tent. Many brave Lives were lost in such Designs Whilst subtile Men wheadling the Heros in Did unobserv'd to Empire rise These did some useless Lawrels win But they enjoy'd the solid Prize How might we pity such misguided Zeal How much these Heros would behind us come If we like Transports of Desire could feel To gain his Love as they to win his Tomb. And if his Love could ours excite To labour at an equal height With that which would embrace Mankind And grieves to see so many lagg behind For want of Love to Wing them to his Arms. Did we that Pattern emulate Self-Love would wholly cease Or else it self o're Human Race dilate While each another Self in 's Neighbour sees Whose ev'ry Vein the same Blood warms That Blood which virt'ally was shed An Antidote as soon as Sin 's first Poyson spread Mr. Waller Tho the Creation so Divinely Taught Prints such a lively Image in our Thought That the first Spark of new created Light From Chaos struck affects our present Sight Yet the first Christians did esteem more blest The Day of Rising than the Day of Rest That every Week might new occasion give To make his Triumph in their Mem'ry Live. Paraph. XXXVII To make the World and in it Man Th' Almighty Architect t' Adore Do's less of Love Divine declare Than his decayed Image to repair And when with Sins 't was sullied o're It s former Luster to restore Tho the Description giv'n us from Above Of God's first Workmanship do's strongely move And 't is so lively drawn That ev'n the first Days dawn Seems to affect our present Sight As if we saw the new created Light Just out of Chaos raise its beamy Head While as the Hemisphere it smiling spread In haste the frightful Shadows fled And the approach of unknown Day Disperst the Doemons which here wall'wing lay Yet the first Christians justly chose To praise that Day when God from 's Grave arose Before his Rest when the great Work was done And thus each Week they celebrate the rising Sun. Mr. Waller Then let our Muse compose a Sacred Charm To keep his Blood among us ever warm And singing as the Blessed do Above With our last Breath dilate this Flame of Love. But on so vast a Subject who can find Words that may reach th' Ideas of his Mind Our Language fails or if it could supply What Mortal Thought can raise it self so high Despairing here we might abandon Art And only hope to have it in our Heart Paraph. XXXVIII Then let our Muse transported with his praise Unto his Memory an Altar raise And each Lord's Day offer devoted Lays Singing and spreading out the Flame of Love Until it touch the Flaming Seat Above Where in its Element the Soul shall rest With the Reward of Love for ever blest Love the Ambrosia at the Heav'nly Feast Who can those thronging Images express That fill the Mind intent on such a Theam We here must needs our Poverty confess Where what we think is less than what we feel An Angels Hand with a Sun Beam Might such a Subject trace While we poor Earth-born Race Despairing to describe its meanest Grace Contentedly may rest Having this Deity within our Breast Tho meanly lodg'd there it delights to dwell If we cherish it with care Th' Endearments passing there No Tongue can tell No Thought can reach The Mind 's confounded when 't would dictate to the Speech Mr. Waller But tho we find this Sacred Task too hard Yet the Design th'Endeavour brings Reward The Contemplation do's suspend our Woe And makes a Truce with all the Ills we know As Saul's afflicted Spirit from the sound Of David's Harp a present Solace found So on this Theam while we our Muse engage No Wounds are felt of Fortune or of Age. On Divine Love to meditate is Peace And makes all care of meaner things to cease Paraph. XXXIX Yet the Design the bare Endeavour brings Reward beyond the Crowns of Kings The Swan can feel no Pain that dying sings And he who thinks of Sacred Love Do's with that Contemplation tune his Mind Nor can what from without do's move Disturb the Musick he within do's find While that about the Soul do's play All Ills and Evil Spirits keep away Not David's Harp with sweeter ease Did charm the Furious Saul And make his ravisht Madness fall Than this suspends our raging Woes We know not how we lose The Thoughts of what we were before And while that Harmony takes up the Soul Nothing about us can displease Love to it Self converts the whole We just are knocking at Heav'ns Door Being with all the World at Peace Just just approaching to become meer Deities Mr. Waller Amaz'd at once and comforted to find A boundless Pow'r so infinitely kind The Soul contending to that Light to fly From her dark Cell we practise how to dye Emplying thus the Poets winged Art To reach this Love and grave it in our Heart Joy so compleat so solid and severe Would leave no Place for meaner Pleasures there Pale they would look as Stars that must be gon When from the East the rising Sun comes on Paraph. XL. With what surprize of Joy do we admire Infinite Love mixt with unbounded Pow'r The Flames all Lambent which might well devour Us who lay under the Almighty's Ire Till he the Image of his Love Divine Sent down on Earth to shine And be a Leading Light To them that groap'd in gloomy Night Where Spectres of Eternal Death affright And raise them to Love's Glorious Throne Whither the Soul may often fly Upon the Wings of Contemplation Abstracted from its sordid Cell And that blest Time anticipate When free from ev'ry Weight Nor subject more to Fate We shall to live for ever dye And leave our Inn Below in Heav'n to dwell The noblest Rise and boldest Flights That thitherward are made Are by the Muses Aid Verse softens and prepares for those Delights Which Angels do in Numbers sing Numbers which raise the Soul upon the Wing And to the Beatifick view Of Love's bright Face do bring Where Holy David singing to his Lyre Sits with the highest of the Heav'nly Quire Telling his Bliss in Verses ever new The thoughts of Joys so solid and severe Aim'd at in Verse by Mortal Poets here Make meaner Pleasures shrink away As the less Lights the Stars when Phoebus brings the Day FINIS 2 King. 2. 21. Iob. 38. 7.