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spirit_n faith_n heart_n work_n 7,151 5 5.4540 4 false
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A00460 Pietatis lachrymæ. = Teares of deuotion Evans, William, poet. 1602 (1602) STC 10597.5; ESTC S105560 13,060 64

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Pietatis Lachrymae TEARES of deuotion Temporis praeteriti fructus est compunctio futuri flos est deuotio Bernard LONDON Printed by Edward Allde and are to be sold at the long shop vnder S. Mildreds Church in the Poultrey 1602. To the Right worshipfull learned and vertuous Sir Thomas Kitson Knight earthes good heere and Heauens blisse heereafter THere was a world but now that world is not When Vertue was within mens hearts inroulde But now that world is almost cleane forgot For vildest things doe mens affections holde There was a time but now more griefe t is not When men though mortall seemed halfe deuine There was a golden age that age forgot When men in charity not wealth did shine There was a time when men relieu'd the poore But he 's now counted wise that keepes his owne There was a time when men did heauen implore But now who thinkes of heau'n is scarcely knowne There was a tim● when most men liu'd in God And mens perfections all on high were placed But now in Mammon most men haue aboad Earth is prefer'd fore heau'n and Saints disgraced But in that soule who heauen doth onely minde Deuinest wisdome will for euer dwell Jf such a soule in thee she cannot finde Where such a soule to finde J cannot tell For nothing can thy soule from comfort seuer In him that bought thee deare and lou'd thee euer Your Worships euer most humbly deuoted William Euans To the Right worshipfull and no lesse vertuous Lady the Lady Elizabeth Kitson wife to Sir Thomas Kitson Knight Earthes prosperity and Caelestiall happines EXpound Tabithai and t is Dorcas name And Dorcas is a Roe-bucke sharpe of eye In this respect Tabithai wonne her fame That from the earth her soule did pierce the skie By faithes pure worke true graces quallity Her mortall life wonne immortality Is there none like Tabithai God forbid Yes some there are but of those some too fewe Many make shew but doe not as she did But giue me leaue to giue your deeds their due Many haue faith no workes their faith is vaine Your workes approoue Tabithai liues againe From the admirer of your vertues William Euans In Authorem INspired soules breath but the thoughts of blisse Whose humble hearts in heauē are onely placed and while the worldlings run their course amisse In Graces eyes are gratious spirits graced So may I say of that which heere I see Drawne from the fountaine of a heauenly spring Where those best humours alwaies nourisht be That make the soule of heau'nly comforts sing Continue therefore this good course of thine And God will blesse and his blessed loue thee And such as know what comforts are deuine Will smile at them that blindely wil reprooue thee And for my selfe I finde thy labours such I cannot loue nor praise thy worke too much Nich. Breton Gent. In eundem WIth some fantasticke foolish braine or other Causles thy weeping lines may be disgraced While wisdomes wit their folly doth discouer And thou thereby in better thoughts be placed Thy lynes no Panimne toyes thy Text deuine Exhales such darkning clouds that Sun may shine Goe on to weepe and weeping laugh at those That doe the pangs of thy sicke soule despise While thou dost weeping win they laughing lose The crowne that is ordain'd for thy sad eyes While I goe sit me downe and musing wonder To see thy heart for sinne nigh torne asunder Sweet is the Musicke that thy passion sings A high-fetcht note surpassing Ela's straine Suckt from the waters of those Hesbon springs That rise and flow to neuer ebbe againe Who wold not taught by thee do his endeuour Learne so to weepe that he may liue for euer Phil. Holland Gent. An Introduction A Way vaine youth that studies nought but praise The soules Inchauntrix and the woe to man When sharpest theame in weeping Oadases Is all too little wretch doe what thou can For to manure the odour of thy sinne That thou from mercies seate mayst mercy win Deuote thy wits to loue and venery Base subiect fit to adde sinne vnto sinne Be-witch mens soules with beauties fopperie By Venus forged-Goddesse praise to winne Onely let me for my sinnes feate a rod Learne how to liue and not offend my God Illuminating God faire milke-white Doue The soules best teacher Tutor vnto blisse AffliCtions comfort Ghost of eternall loue Cleane Guest that loues to Inne where no sinne is License my soule to weepe with those true eyes That heauens implore and all the world despise A passion of an afflicted soule NO sooner had the Sunne all shewed his face Measuring the welkin by a furlongs space But that I sat free from his scorching beame Vnder an Oake fast by a siluer streame Not long I sat but soone I heard one crye Distilling shewers of teares from his sad eye And with those teares that did from him proceede Came sighes true partners in each woe need And with those sighs came words to heare a wōder which thought-torne-hart had almost broke asunder Neerer I stept but yet I stood aside to see the end and what might him betide When soone me thought I might this man behold Placing his armes a crosse with an infolde Casting his lookes to heau'n sometimes to earth When offring speech feare stopt his vitall breath Yet truce he tooke with feare heart-grieued man and with a mournefull voice these words began Peter denyed his Christ for feare of daunger And swore being askt he was to him a stranger O false forsworne vilde-wretch that knew him wel Who lou'd him more then any tongue can tell Yet he his fault no sooner gan to see But he repented and from sinne was free Saule did torment the seruants of the high Clad all in armes to worke their Tragedy And martyr'd Steuen that high sweet Sa. in heau'n Was by his meanes of his deare life be-reauen Of this great sin he likewise was forgiuen Whome we Canonize Saint as blessed Steuen Dauid did heap one sinne vpon another That so the first the last might better smother Murder blacke murder and adultery The least brings man to hels foule misery He also was of this vilde fault forgiuen And now with God enioyes a place in heauen These all did sinne but yet were free'd from feare But my sinne 's greater then I well can beare Christ came a Sauiour that we all might liue Yet my sinnes such as would he would forgiue Yea sinne doth cause me to be so forlorne As makes me wish I neuer had bin born O grieued soule why dost thou sighing crie Why spring such flouds from thy immortall eye Art thou surcharg'd with sinne plunged in woe Thy teares say yea though silence tell me no. Oh out alas that I might once be free Where thou O God might haue no power to see If I climbe vp to heauen oh thou art there And at thy right hand sits my Sauiour deere Whose saluing woūds my soule so much neglected That force perforce