Linguistic DNA - Concept Modelling Demonstrator

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
spirit_n	bright_a	eternal_a	good_a	34	3	2.1572	3	false

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A29823	Sacred poems, or, Briefe meditations, of the day in generall and of all the dayes in the weeke	Browne, Edward.; Du Bartas, Guillaume de Salluste, seigneur, 1544-1590. Sepmaine. English.; Sylvester, Josuah, 1563-1618.	1641 (1641)	Wing B5106; ESTC R12452	45,038	82

of the Hive It 's fit he should be throwne For why should he of the sweet Honey eat That the poore Bee with labour hard did get If wee doe as wee should take such great paine To prop preserve this life that 's fraile and vaine Oh how should wee then put our selves to taske To get and gaine that life which ay will last If for our bodies health wee oft will spare Our most delicious and delightfull fare Shall wee for our Soules health grudge or repine To fast from sinne or else refuse to dine If for our profit we the paines thinke small To bend and crouch to prate to cry and call Shall we thinke much unto the Lord to pray With hearty voyce and humble mind alway If the poore Smith does thinke it no great Toyle Over the fire in smoake to burne and broyle Shall wee if when the Lord thinkes good to try Our constant faith in flames refuse to dye Oh Lord I doe confesse my feet are slow My heeles are heavy and refuse to goe Into thy holy house thy word to heare And in my body I sloths Image beare My hands are Idle and my eyes are lazie My heart is dull my lips to laud thee crazie Wherefore I pray Infuse into my minde Such heav'nly grace that I may be inclinde To labour and take care for heav'nly food More then for any fading earthly Good So when this life shall cease I may be blest And live with God in a perpetuall rest Of Eating and Drinking IF that our bodyes want due food to eat How doe we labour straight to find out meat Or if with cruell thirst we be possest Till we find drinke we cannot be at rest Oh this should teach me after Grace to long Which is the Soules Refection to prolong My spirituall life and never be at rest Till with such meat and drinke my Soul 's refresht And when I doe behold the great provision For earthly Bodies from Gods loving Mission How that all creatures for our food are slaine Oh Lord thinke I If for this life that 's vaine There 's such provision in such sundry kind For life eternall to refresh the mind There 's as great plenty and as various store Of spirituall dainties If not far much mâ—re My daily food should be Christs holy body Which by the mouth of faith I swallow wholy To strengthen and refresh my sinfull minde That I may at the last true comfort finde My drinke should be my Saviours pretious blood Which quencheth sinfull thirst doth much good For all my sins It would wash quite away Oh this should be my bread and drink all day That at the last when as the dismall night Of death shall come in heav'n I may shine bright My Salt should be the sanctifying Grace Of Gods good sp'rit which I should ever place Upon the Table of a pious hart That I there with may season every part Of all my sinfull thoughts my words and deeds And every evill lust which in mee breeds Yea this should be the ordinary food Of my poore soule for her eternall good But yet at severall times there 's sundry dishes Of Beasts of Birds of divers Herbs and fishes In prosperous state there is the loving Hinde Who having eas'd his fellowes goes behinde The charitable Storke and temp rate Swallow The loving Prawne and pearle fish they may follow In this same messe to teach men of great might Gentle sobriety to doe poore right But if Adversity become our state The first dish is a Lambe immaculate The patient Sheepe the gall-lesse harmlesse Dove In this same messe should likewise have our love Th' industrious Bee the nimble painfull Ant The milke-white Lilly this messe should not want And many other things of precious kinde Which I can hardly bring into my minde And all to teach that in a cause that 's good It is a glorious thing to spend our blood And to beare patiently Gods chastising hand Like Iob at last more strenuously to stand At all times else there is much spirituall meate For our poore soules But I cannot repeate One halfe or quarter of this great variety It is enough if I can finde saciety In the least crum of any heavenly Grace That after I have finisht this lifes race I may in heaven keepe a continuall feast With Christ my Saviour in eternall rest Of the Night HOw soone doth darksome night succeed light day By this I know I have not long to stay In this fraile life which doth so quickly hast That as a day it selfe doth spend and wast But what need I to feare deaths gastly face For I am young and in a healthfull case I have not yet arrived to high noone For I in yeeres am scarsly thirty one Yet what of that for this same very night God may bereave mee of to morrowes light For cruell death with his impartiall knife Doth cut the thread of mans most wretched life Before that ten or twenty yeere's expir'd In this fraile life whereby I am requir'd To take due notice that ere long may be Deaths dart may make as quick dispatch of me And now because I undertake to write Of the similitude of darksome night I doe desire of God that I could tell Blinde errors paths and the dread paines of hell My selfe thereby to warne to take great heed That in blind errors wayes I may not tread For they will lead me to the darke Abysse Of dolefull horror where no comfort is And error in its selfe 's so smooth a way That the best falleth in it every day It is a maze which if we once get in Out of the same it 's hard to get agin And he that in it very often wanders Shall finde a troope of crooked sly Meanders But I will bring them into these two kindes Errors in life ignorance of mens mindes And here at first my senses are at strife For who can tell the errors of this life To such a countlesse number they doe grow That my Arithmeticke them cannot show The errors that in my poore soule are bred Doe farre exceed the haires upon my head If my sins rise to such a summe alone Who can the totall of all sins make knowne Under sev'n Captaines they doe march in fight Pride lechery and envious hatefull spite Cruell man-killing wrath beastly excesse In meat and drinke sloth greedy cov'tousnesse These are the chiefe wayes but there 's many more Crooked by-paths that leade men to the dore Of utter darkenesse for they doe delight To act their deeds i' th darke and out of sight So Hazael when he was left alone Kild Benhadad that it might not be knowne Achan did also hide his thievish pelfe Because that none should know it but himselfe Th' Adulterer waites also for twilight That he may act his sinne out of mens sight And the deceiver in his darke shop vents His broken wares that none knowes his intents And ev'ry sinner doth ev'n hate the

heav'n and never lookes abroad ' That crownes not vertue and corrects not Vice ' Blind to our service deafe unto our sighs 'A Pagan Idoll voyd of power and Piety 'A sleeping Dormouse rather a dead Deity ' For though alas sometimes I cannot shun ' But some prophane thoughts in my mind will run ' I never thinke on God but I conceive ' Whence cordiall comforts Christians soules receive ' In God Care Counsell Justice Mercy Might 'To punish wrongs and Patronize the right ' Sith Man but Image of the Almightiest ' Without these gifts is not a man but Beast ' God is not sitting like some Earthly state ' In proud Theater him to recreate ' With curious objects of his eares and eyes ' Without disposing of the Comedies ' Content t' have made by his great word to move ' So many Radiant Stars to shine above ' And on each thing with his owne hand to draw ' The sacred text of an eternall Law ' Then bosoming his hand to let them slide ' With raines at will whether that Law shall guide ' Like one that lately having forc't some lake ' Through a new Channell a new course to take ' Takes no more care thenceforth to those effects ' But lets the streame run where the ditch directs ' The Lord our God wants neither diligence ' Nor love nor Care nor power nor providence ' Hee prov'd his power by making all of nought ' His diligence by ruling All he wrought ' His care in ending it in six dayes space ' His love in building it for Adams race ' Hâ—â— providence Maugre Times wastfull rages ' Preserving it so many yeares and Ages ' For O! how often had this goodly Ball ' By his owne greatnesse caus'd his proper fall ' How often had this world deceast except ' Gods mighty Armes had it upheld and kept ' God is the Soule the life the strength and sinnew ' That quickens moves and makes this frame continue ' God 's the maine spring that maketh every way ' All the small wheeles of this great Engin play ' God 's the strong Atlas whose unshrinking shoulders ' Have beene and are heav'ns heavy Globes upholders ' God makes the fountaines run continually ' The dayes and nights succeed incessantly ' The Seasons in their season he doth bring ' Summer and Autumn Winter and the Spring ' God make's th' earth fruitfull and he makes the earth's ' Large sides not yet faint for so many births ' God makes the Sun and Stars though wondrous hot ' That yet their heat themselves inflameth not ' And that their sparkling beams prevent not so ' With woefull flames the last great day of woe ' And that as mov'd with a contrary wrest ' They turne at once both North and East and West ' Heav'ns constant course his heast doth never break ' The floting water waiteth at his beck ' Th' Aire 's at his call the fire at his command ' The earth is his and there is nothing fam'd ' In all these kingdomes but is mov'd each houre ' With secret touch of his eternall power ' God is the Judge who keepes continuall Sessions ' In every place to punish all transgressions ' Who void of Ignorance and Avarice ' Not won with bribes nor wrested with device ' Sans feare or favour hate or partiall Zeale ' Pronounceth judgements that are past appeal ' Himselfe is judge Jury and witnesse too ' Well knowing what we all think speake or doe ' He sounds the deepest of the doublest heart ' Searcheth the Reins and sifteth every part He sees all secrets and his Lynx-like eye Yer it be thought doth every thought descry His sentence giv'n doth never prove in vaine For all that heav'n earth ayre and sea containe Serve him as Sergeants and the winged Legions That soar above the bright star-spangled Regions Are ever prest his powerfull ministers And lastly for his executioners Satan assisted with th' infernall band Stands ready still to finish his command God to be briefe is a good Artizan That to his purpose aptly mannage can Good or bad tools for for just punishment He armes our sins us sinners to torment And to prevent th'ungodly's plot sometime He makes his foes will nill they fight for him Though then the Lords deep wisdome to this day Worke in the worlds uncertaine certaine sway Yet must we credit that his hand compos'd All in six dayes and that he then repos'd By his example giving us behest On the seventh day for evermore to rest For God remembred that he made not man Of stone or steel or brasse Corinthian But lodg'd our soule in a fraâ—le earthen masse Thinner than water britler than the glasse He knowes our life is by nought sooner spent Than having still our minds and bodies bent A souldier that a season still hath laine Comes with more fury to the field againe Even so this body when to gather breath One day in sev'n at rest it sojourneth It recollects his powers and with more cheer Falls the next morrow to his first career But the chiefe end this precept ayms at is To quench in us the coals of covetize That while we rest from all prophaner arts Gods Spirit may worke in our retired hearts That we down-treading earthly cogitations May mount our thoughts to heav'nly meditations Following good Archers guize who shut one eye That they the better may their marke espie For by th' Almighty this great holy day Was not ordain'd to dance to maske and play To slug in sloth to lash out in delights And loose the reines to raging appetites To turne Gods feasts to filthy Lupercalls To frantike Orgies and fond Saturnalls To dâ—zle eyes with our vain-glorious splendor To serve strange gods or our ambition tender As the irreligion of loose times hath since Chang'd the prime Churches chaster innocence God would that men should in a certaine place This day assemble as before his face Tending an humble and attentive eare To learne his great names dear-dread loving-feare He would that there the faithfull Pastor should The Scriptures marrow from the bones unfold That we might touch with fingers as it were The sacred secrets that are hidden there For though the reading of those holy lines In private houses somewhat move our minds Doubtlesse the doctrine preach'd doth deeper pierce Proves more effectuall and more weight it bears He would that there in holy Psalmes we sing Shrill praise and thanks to our immortall King For all the liberall bounties he bestow'th On us and ours in soule and body both He would that there we should confesse his Christ Our only Saviour Prophet Prince and Priest Solemnizing with sober preparation His blessed seales of reconciliation And in his Name beg boldly what wee need After his will and be assur'd to speed Sith in th'exchequer of his clemency All goods of fortune foule and body ly He would this Sabbâ—th should a figure be Of the blest Sabbath of eternitie That the grand Iubile

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