Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
spirit_n	father_n	holy_a	life_n	7,349	5	4.3274	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A65456	Elegies on the Queen and Archbishop by Samuel Wesley ...	Wesley, Samuel, 1662-1735.	1695 (1695)	Wing W1368; ESTC R5820	12,314	32

the rest a single wear Two Branches seem of the Nassovian Line Aurange Coligny Yes they 're they Such Beams around their Temples us'd to play The third is Martyr'd CHARLES still more Divine It must be Martyr'd CHARLES he looks so good His Ermins dy'd with his own sacred Blood By sacrilegious Hands all Victims fell All sent too soon to Heav'n by Monsters rais'd from Hell All their great Kindred welcome and embrace But CHARLES the most and best Who thus her Merit and his Love exprest Welcome thrice welcome to this happy place Whose Praise nor Envy shall nor Age deface Thou best thou dearest Name of all my Race And more he wou'd have said but hears Th' Intelligences tune their Spheres And knew they wou'd some wond'rous thing At her Reception sing All in their Hands the Harps of God they take Nature be still No Voice beneath The Clouds be heard no Wind to breath No Leaf to shake XXV How wond rous are thy Works how bright O of unbounded Pow'r and Might Yet if we ought can add unto thy Praise We for the Truth and Iustice of thy Ways O King of Saints will nobler Trophies raise What Mortal form'd of Dust and Clay What Mind to thee as weak as they Can in thy angry sight appear Or at thy Voice can choose to Fear If once thy Voice they not obey It soon can take the Life it gave Tho' rather thy delight to save O Holy Father Spirit and Son Dread Holy Three Dread Holy One Thy Eyes how perfect and how pure All those approve Who Virtue love Nor can the smallest Stain of guilt endure Tho' long the stupid World has been Enslav'd to Error lost in sin Did long thy saving Health despise Now the fair years in comly Order rise The stupid World shall worship Fiends no more Their Temples by th' Almighties Frown Their smoaking Altars thunder'd down But thee and thy dread Son O King of Kings adore A POEM On the Death of his Grace JOHN Late Lord Arch-Bishop OF CANTERBURY I. FInd me some place yet more remov'd from Day Impervious to the Suns all-cheering Light Where Comfort casts no Gleam kind Heav'n no Ray Lost in the double Shades of Grief and Night II. There will I mourn till I grow old in Tears Till I th' unkind the spiteful World have shown 'T is a true Black my unbought Sorrow wears 'T is for my Countrys Loss and not my own III. When he whom Deaths hard sleep in vain did bind In his dark Grotto immaturely slept A greater Mourner than if all Mankind Shrouded in black had waited IESUS wept IV. He taught us Tenderness where e'er 't was due Nor e'er cou'd Tomb to more than this pretend Which shall this Truth to Grandchild Ages shew Here lies Mankinds and God's and Cesar's Friend V. Say Envy's self if Envy's self can say If to his God he was not pure from Blame His Soul shin'd thro' with so divine a Ray As clear confest the Heav'n from whence she came VI. Iust all his Thoughts of God all great and bright Mild Majesty with awful Goodness vail'd Such as might Man allure and not affright All worthy him who Heav'ns great Lord is hail'd VII No black Idea form'd from Guilt or Fear Or by illnatur'd Ign'rance ill-defin'd But such as pure unmatter'd Angels wear Such he himself now rais'd to perfect Mind VIII Humbly he lov'd whom gladly he obey'd Serene his Pray'rs unclouded as his Brow Beneficent and Good to all he made He taught him then and such he finds him now IX Him he thro all the Maze of Matter trac'd In every Particle his Footsteps found Who first a shore to the wild Chaos plac'd And Atom close to Brother-Atom bound X. In Heav'ns wide Arch he found and show'd him there Adorn'd in all his Furniture of Light Then here transcrib'd in Strokes almost as fair In lasting Characters almost as bright XI O'er this vast Globe did his bold Pencil show How all his Works did spread their Makers Fame How aged Mountains stand and Waters flow And every Flow'r and Insect wears his Name XII No flatt'ring Colours on weak Reasons laid No drossy mixtures with the purer Ore Strongly he built and firm Foundations made From Truths and Natures unexhausted Store XIII Yet his strong Reason to his Faith he bent By new Elastic Pow'rs still stronger made Yet more-than-nat'ral Truths had his Assent Who where he cou'd not comprehend obey'd XIV Ah miscall'd Reas'ners who wou'd Reason bring Th' Eternal Word and Reason to dethrone Your Faith refuse to your Almighty King Protection take yet no Allegiance own XV. Who a Man-God a Sub-Supreme create Not to the great God-man just Honours pay Rob the Creator of his Kingly State And yet to one you think a Creature pray XVI When left by God how vain a Thing is Man How weak his Mind from its true Center thrown Christ's Mysteries you can't believe but can Such pure mysterious Nonsence of your own XVII Not so this Champion of his Saviour's Name Whose weighty Pen did Heresy confound Secur'd his own and th' injur'd Churches Fame And laid the Polish Monster on the Ground XVIII He knew ev'n Natures self had Mysteries Too deep for shallow Reason's finite Line Nor lookt against the Sun nor clos'd his Eyes Nor equall'd humane Knowledge with divine XIX Nor all believ'd who from th' Eternal King Commission plead but can't produce his Hand A false a forging Race who only bring His miscall'd Vicars ill-dissembled Brand. XX. Tho all Mankind he lov'd he cou'd not those Whose monstrous Faith 's full contradiction-size Who on the Sense of all Mankind impose And with implicit Faith believe in Lyes XXI Who old deform'd Idolatry new paint And Images to theif lost Shrines restore The Name just chang'd the Hero turn'd to Saint Where Demons lodge as quiet as before XXII Whose whole Religion turn'd to Cheat and Trade Did all devou'r like Babels Idol Thief Who to the Rich all Lewdness venial made But damn'd th' insolvent Poor without Relief XXIII None e'er with neater Sense or closer laid Unmask'd their Frauds than thou Great Man hast done As once the French of Talbots name affraid We 'll still th' Italians now with TILLOTSON XXIV Yet no wild Motions e'er disturb'd his Breast His Reason not his Passion kept him warm No warring Winds his peaceful Soul opprest Where blew a gentle Breeze but not a Storm XXV As he already liv'd in Paradice All equable his happy Hours did flow Unruffled he by Int'rest or by Vice He never knew a Thought or Care so low XXVI Pardon dear Country if that Heat I blame Which but too oft our Freeborn Minds enslaves Let Rome alone th' unerring Title claim Why shou'd I storm because another raves XXVII Or wash'd by Seas our Fire like Etna glows Or the strong Spirits within too closely pent Prey on themselves for want of other Foes And fuming to unnat'ral Warmth ferment XXVIII When th'