Selected quad for the lemma: sense_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A59920
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Youth's comedy, or, The souls tryals and trivmph a dramatic poem, with divers meditations intermixt upon several subjects, set forth to help and encourage those that are seeking a heavenly countrey / by the author of Youth's tragedy.
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T. S. (Thomas Sherman)
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1680
(1680)
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Wing S3391; ESTC R38173
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37,850
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141
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changes here To keep our Souls in reverential fear He sees how ready now we are to set A higher value on our selves than 's fit How apt we are under bright Beams to slight Those tempted Souls which want that blessed Sight And therefore hides his Face and thereby shows That we should friendly sympathize with those It may be those sweet Joys by Vision brought Thou dost not truly rate them as they ought And now the Price hereof he will inhance And teach thee how to value ev'ry glance It may be God is pleas'd to try thy Grace And therefore for a time with-draws his Face To see if Faith and hope will follow on In Paths of Life when Sense and Feeling's gon And whether thou when Comforts are away Wilt out of Love unto himself obey But were it only from his Soveraign Will What cause is there in Silence to sit still Those Joys in Heav'n he 'll give thee at the last Will make amends for all thy Sorrow past But yet dear Soul remember ev'ry Word That may support unto thy Faith afford Consider Light is for the Righteous sown Joy for the upright is in furrows thrown And though it buried lies there for a Night Yet will it spring up by the Morning Light Keep then thy Feet and Faith in Wisdom's ways And give not up thy Hopes in cloudy days But wait on him that sometimes hides his Face From the beloved Seed of Jacob's Race So. Dear Friend I will consider what you say Your solid Words in serious Ballance weigh Nuncius Nun. THe wakeful Tempter always on his watch Thinks this a likely time his Prey to catch And as assaulting Forces where they spy The weakest place there plant their Battery So Satan swell'd with hope and fill'd with rage Against the Soul where weakest doth engage But still supporting Grace defeats his pow'r And yields assistance in a needful hour The Soul Conflicting with the Assaults of Satan Satan Soul Sat. POor weary Soul lay by thy lab'ring Oar And run thy Vessel on the quiet shore Go take thy Rest upon this pleasant Coast Thou dost but toil in vain thy Labours lost So. It would be lost if I should take up short As thou would'st have of my desired Port. No here I am resolv'd my Course to steer And if I perish I will perish here Sat. In vain thou hop'st this Tempest to out-ride And make thy way both against Wind and Tide Seest thou how sin and suff rings on thee role Like mighty Waves ready to sink thy Soul How one great Deep doth to another call Whil'st Water Spouts with dreadful Noise do fall So. It 's no vain hope for he that doth command To follow him will help with his right hand That Sins too many are too strong it 's true But not for Grace to pardon or subdue And though it be a black and stormy day I 'll wait on him whom Winds and Seas obey Sat. And wilt thou still to him for help repair That hides his Face and shutteth out thy Pray'r Who over Heav'n gloomy Clouds hath spread That neither Sun or Stars may Brightness shed Who in his Anger cruel Bow hath bent And poison'd Arrows in thy Bosom sent And on thy-Neck hath bound thy sinful Yoke And all thy Bones i' th' place of Dragons broke Will Men for Shelter to a Lyon fly Or wait for Mercy from an Enemy So. Thou art that roaring Lyon that dost watch With hungry Jaws the simple Soul to catch The Enemy of God and all Mankind Taking unwearied Steps thy Prey to find And having sound and drawn into thy pow'r Mak'st it thy greatest pleasure to devour But with the Lord Compassions do abound The poor and needy this have always found Imbarked Jonah from Gods Presence fled A dreadful Storm from God strait followed In vain the Seamen toil with lab'ring hand To bring their beaten Vessel to the Land All that they do can no relief afford Vntil their guilty Fare's cast over-board A Whale doth strait-way seize him for her Prey And to the Roots of Mountains roles away Great Deeps his Soul do round about inclose Incensed Floods and Waves upon him flows In sighs his fainting Soul deep sorrow breath'd Whil'st Reeds about his mournful Head are wreathd Three days imbar'd in Jaws of Death he lies Yet unto God he looks for favour cries God hears and pities gives the Fish command The Whale makes haste to set him on dry Land Thus God is ready to extend his Grace Vnto poor Souls that seeks his blessed Face And when he doth his own rebuke for sin It 's that he may their Souls to Mercy win To pensive ones that do confess their Error He 'll be a Tower though now he seems a Terror That hand that wounds his own that strikes so hard That hand will bind them up that hand will guard And self-abasing Souls shall quickly know He 'll be their Friend that seems to be their Foe If not in God then where can help be found That hand can only cure that did me wound Vnto those Arms of Mercy I will haste And on free Grace my Soul for ever cast Sat. How God deals sometimes with his own what 's this To the Presumptuous Soul th' art none of his Nor is he thine do not thy self deceive His Arms will not the Hypocrite receive So. Should it be so proud Tempter it 's high time To hasten to him that he may be mine To cry to God who ready is to hear To make my Heart upright my Soul sincere To drive me to him God hath sent his Rod It 's good for me then to draw near to God Contemplations suited to the Soul that hath found Morning Comforts after a Night of sad Desertion and sore Troubles Soul So. FRom the dark Vale where Death enthron'd doth sit From the great Deep and from the dreadful Pit From Caves that lodge the free among the dead From lowest Dungeon where no Light is shed From wand'ring Maze where the umbrageous Wood Is rang'd by hungry Lions for their Food My Soul is brought preserv'd from threat'ning harm To sing the Praises of his glorious Arm. When on my Soul the mighty Waters prest When breaking Clouds with thunder-claps distrest When over-whelming Terrors on me roll'd And Pains of Hell upon my Soul took hold He from deep Floods my trembling Soul did catch From yielding Mud my sinking Feet did snatch From Thunder Spouts my strugling Head did shield And from Hells Terrors timely help did yield His quick'ning Favour did revive and save My fainting Soul from the devouring Grave And he whose Mercies always do endure Vpon a high Rock did my Feet secure It 's he that Ashes into Beauty turns Anoints with Oyl of Joy the Soul that mourns That doth the Needy from the Dunghil raise And Cloaths the Pensive with the Robes of Praise He with White Garments doth the sad adorn And turns the shades of Death into the Morn Let weary Souls to him
like small Balls of Flame to us below And if sev'n Orbes beneath this Roof are hurl'd With rapid Motion round this lower World In which seav'n Planets variously do steer Most of them greater than this globous Sphere How many thousand miles yea millions high Hath God above us stretch'd the starry Skie And yet how far beyond in Altitude Is that thir'd Heav'n which doth these Orbs include Which doth his Greatness and his Grace declare Whose Mercies far above the Heav'ns are And who in height doth highest Heav'ns excell And uncontained in himself doth dwell And if so vast and high these Bodies be What Tongue can tell their great celerity What motion can set forth how swift they role In their diurnal course about their Pole How blessed then may those be truly said Upon which Heav'ns God rideth for their aid And who like Jes'runs God in excellence That rideth on the Skie for their defence And if these Globes so swift by fixt Decree Still wheel about in Even Harmony If Constellations keep their distance due And wandring Planets wander always true And keep by Ord'nance given to them all Their Revolutions periodical And orderly do run their bounded way In lucent paths from which they never stray But move exactly in their Heav'nly Sphere To give the various seasons of the year And this by vertue of a Cov'nant past Which must endure so long as time shall last How firm is then the Covenant of Grace Which he hath freely made to Israel's Race Heav'ns Ordinances shall be sooner broke Than any Promise that the Lord hath spoke And how stupendious is that Pow'r above Which such swift Bodies doth so ev'nly move Oh what is Man or his Posterity That God should spread so rich a Canopy And garnish forth this great Coelestial Roof With such refulgent Lights on his behoof He that for all Men hath this Structure rear'd What Glory for his own hath he prepard Vpon the Moon OBserve the Moon that monthly makes her way Through the twelve Signs and over Night bears sway One of the greater Lights for so in shew As seated next to us that live below The nearer in Approaches she doth come Unto the luminous Body of the Sun The brighter doth she cast her Rays above And darker shews to those that here do move So do those Souls to Heav'nly Eyes shine bright That hold Communion with the God of Light Whil'st the dark World no Glory can espy Because it 's hidden from a Carnal Eye And as the Moon with borrowed Light displays Reflected Beams sent from the Suns bright Rays So from the Sun of Righteousness Divine The Saints with perfect Comeliness do shine Again observe her in her oblique Sphere Where Days and Nights much vary in the year In Winter time when the declining Sun His shortest Arch doth in the Heav'ns run And quickly posteth from our Hemisphere Whil'st dusky Night long Sable Robes do wear Then doth the Moon opposed in her sign Mounted on high in largest Circle shine Supplying comfort to the tedious Night By long continuance of her chearing Light Whereas in Summer when there is less need She from us to th' Antipodes doth speed And there lifts up her silver beaming Head Where the moist shades of Night are longest spread You that search out his Works Oh praise the Lord Who when most need doth then most Light afford The Moon though glorious hath opacous veins And from her Full doth hasten to her Wains With various Phaces moving through the Sky And constant always in unconstancy So are all sublunary Comforts here With Spots they shine then change and disappear Oh happy Souls that by true Grace are led Upon these mixt and fading things to tread Tryals arising from cruel Mockings Soul Body Bo. THeir troubles my dear Soul what words can tell That meet with those whose Tongues are fir'd from Hell From which as from a cruel Bow that 's bent Are bitter words like poison'd Arrows sent How do the Ishmaels of the World us flout The Rabshakes their Railing thus cast out These are the holy Seed that must possess The promis'd Land we in the Wilderness Must be cast forth as those in Bondage born Wandring in Desart Ways with Steps forlorn These are the Gifted Brethren that can preach And dress their Nonsense in affected Speech That pray Tautologies with moving Groans And take the simple with affected Tones These are the nice precisions not content With that old path in which their Fathers went But must have new These from the Church do stray And yet pretend to Heav'n the nearest Way To be the onely Ones that walk aright Such as do still attain unto New Light Meteors of Flame and Zeal from whence doth fall Direful Effects where they are Verticall Disturbers of the Peace in ev'ry Town Turning the World in Faction upside down So. That Troubles and Commotions do arise It is from those that do the Truth despise This is declared in the Sacred Word The Prince of Peace did come to send a Sword Which accidental proves from the fierce Rage Of those that do against his Ways engage As Torrents stopt swell high to overflow So Lust oppos'd doth more outragious grow Besides the Devil with his own doth joyn That so no Light may in his Kingdom shine And those that do against his pow'r contest Are cri'd down as the Men that do molest As for Reproach fear not a taunting Word The Servant is not greater than his Lord Black Mouths against him belch'd forth Obloquy Both whil'st he liv'd and when he came to die Who when revil'd reviled not his Foes But like the silent Lamb to Slaughter goes If that the Head indured such Contempt The Members must not think to be exempt If he drunk deep of this same bitter Cup Let not his Servants then think much to sup If he for us a Crown of Thorns did wear Let 's follow him and his Reproaches bear Bo. It is but just and equal what you say But yet it is a sad and dismal Way So. The Way faring Man that carefully doth mind Those given Marks whereby his Way to find As when he hath crost o'r a pleasant Plain He then must pass a deep and dirty Lane Then by a Wood where Savage Beasts frequent Then climb a craggy and a high Ascent When as instructed he doth thither come Out of a longing Mind to be at home Though at the way he taketh no delight Yet joys in this to see himself i' th' right So though Afflictions grievous are to Sense Yet may they yield a joyful Evidence For in this Way the Saints to Heav'n went Against whose Names reproachful Tongues were bent Thus Patient Job whose Record was on high Vnder hard words of Friendless Friends did lie Besides young Boys this worthy Soul did mock Whose Fathers were too mean to tend his Flock Such as to Desart Want and Famine drive To dig up Roots to keep themselves alive Chased by Man from