Selected quad for the lemma: sense_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
sense_n	world_n	wound_n	wrack_n	16	3	14.4394	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A12634	Saint Peters complaynt With other poems.	Southwell, Robert, Saint, 1561?-1595.	1595 (1595)	STC 22956; ESTC S117658	24,262	74

shop of shame trade sorrowes ware Pleasd with displeasing lot I seeke no change I wealthiest am when richest in remorce To fetch my ware no seas nor lands I range For customers to buy I nothing force My home-bred goods at home are bought and sold And still in me the interest I hold My comfort now is comfortlesse to liue In Orphan state deuoted to mishap Rent from the roote that sweetest fruit did giue I scorn'd to graffe in stocke of meaner sap No iuice can ioy me but of Iesse flower VVhose heauenly roote hath true reuiuing power At sorrowes dore I knockt they crau'd my name I aunswered one vnworthy to be knowne VVhat one say they one worthiest of blame But who a wretch not Gods nor yet his owne A man O no a beast much worse what creature A rocke how cald the rocke of scandale Peter From whence from Caiphas house ah dwell you there Sinnes farme I rented there but now would leaue it VVhat rent my soule what gaine vnrest and feare Deere purchase Ah too deere will you receiue it VVhat shall we giue fit teares and times to plaine me Come in say they thus griefes did entertaine me VVith them I rest true prisoner to theyr Iayle Chain'd in the yron linkes of basest thrall Tyll grace vouchsafing captiue soule to bayle In wonted See degraded loues enstall Dayes passe in plaints the nights without repose I wake to weepe I sleepe in waking woes Sleepe deaths allye obliuion of teares Silence of passions balme of angry sore Suspence of loues securitie of feares VVrathes lenitiue harts ease stormes calmest shore Sences and soules repriuall from all cumbers Benumming sence of ill with quiet slumbers Not such my sleepe but whisperer of dreames Creating strange chymeraes fayning frights Of day discourses giuing fansie theames To make dumme shewes with worlds of antick sights Casting true griefes in fansies forging mold Brokenly telling tales rightly fore-told This sleepe most fitly suteth sorrowes bed Sorrow the smart of euill Sinnes eldest child Best when vnkind in killing who it bred A racke for guiltie thoughts a bit for wild The scourge that whips the salue that cures offence Sorrow my bed and home while life hath sence Heere solitary Muses nurse my griefes In silent lonenesse burying worldly noyse Attentiue to rebukes deafe to reliefes Pensiue to foster cares carelesse of ioyes Ruing lifes losse vnder deathes dreary roofes Solemnizing my funerall behoofes A selfe contempt the shroud my soule the corse The beere an humble hope the herse cloth feare The mourners thoughts in blacks of deepe remorse The herse grace pittie loue and mercy beare My teares my dole the priest a zealous will Pennance the tombe and dolefull sighes the knill Christ health of feuer'd soule heauen of the mind Force of the feeble nurse of Infant loues Guide to the wandring foote light of the blind VVhom weeping winnes repentant sorrow moues Father in care mother in tender hart Reuiue and saue me slaine with finnefull dart If king Manasses sunke in depth of sinne VVith plaints and teares recouered grace and crowne A worthlesse worme some milde regard may winne And lowly creepe where flying threw it downe A poore desire I haue to mend my ill I should I would I dare not say I will I dare not say I will but wish I may My pride is checkt high wordes the speaker spilt My good ô Lord thy gift thy strength my stay Giue what thou bidst and then bid what thou wilt VVorke with me what thou of me do'st request Then will I dare the most and vow the best Prone looke crost armes bent knee and contrite hart Deepe sighes thicke sobs dew'd eyes prostrate praiers Most humbly beg release of earned smart And sauing shroud in mercies sweete repaires If iustice should my wrongs with rigor wage Feares would dispaires ruth breed a hopelesse rage Lazar at pitties gate I vlcered lye Crauing the reffues crummes of childrens plate My sores I lay in view to mercies eye My rags beare witnesse of my poore estate The wormes of conscience that within me swarme Proue that my plaints are lesse then is my harme VVith mildnesse Iesu measure my offence Let true remorse thy due reuenge abate Let teares appease when trespasse doth incense Let pittie temper thy deserued hate Let grace forgiue let loue forget my fall VVith feare I craue with hope I humbly call Redeeme my lapse with raunsome of thy loue Trauerse th'inditement rigors doome suspend Let frailtie fauour sorrowes succour moue Be thou thy selfe though changling I offend Tender my sute clense this defiled denne Cancell my debts sweet Iesu say Amen The end of Saint Peters complaint MARY MAGDALENS BLVSH THE signes of shame that staine my blushing face Rise from the feeling of my rauing fits VVhose ioy annoy whose guerdon is disgrace VVhose solace flyes whose sorrow neuer flits Bad seede I sow'd worse fruite is now my gaine Soone dying mirth begat long liuing paine Now pleasure ebbes reuenge beginnes to flow One day doth wreake the wrath that many wrought Remorse doth tcach my guiltie thoughts to know How cheape I sould that Christ so deerely bought Faults long vnfelt doth conscience now bewray VVhich cares must cure and teares must wash away All ghostly dynts that grace at me did dart Like stubborne rocke I forced to recoyle To other flights an ayme I made my hart whose wounds then wel-come now haue wrought my foyle VVoe worth the bow woe worth the archers might That draue such arrowes to the marke so right To pull them out to leaue them in is death One to this world one to the world to come VVounds may I weare and draw a doubtfull breath But then my wounds will worke a dreadfull dome And for a world whose pleasures passe away I lose a world whose ioyes are past decay O sence ô soule ô had ô hoped blisse You wooe you weane you draw you driue me back Your crosse encountring like their combate is That neuer end but with some deadly wrack VVhen sence doth winne the soule doth loose the field And present haps make future hopes to yeeld O heauen lament sence robbeth thee of Saints Lament ô soules sence spoyleth you of grace Yet sence doth scarse deserue these hard complaints Loue is the thiefe sence but the entring place Yet graunt I must sence is not free from sinne For theefe he is that theefe admitteth in ¶ Marie Magdalens complaynt at Christes death SIth my life from life is parted Death come take thy portion VVho suruiues when life is murdred Liues by meere extortion All that liue and not in God Couch their life in deaths abod Seely starres must needes leaue shining VVhen the sunne is shaddowed Borrowed streames refraine their running VVhen head springs are hindered One that liues by others breath Dieth also by his death O true life since thou hast left me Mortall life is tedious Death it is to liue without thee Death of all most odious Turne againe or take me to