Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A16750
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The hate of treason vvith a touch of the late treason / by N.B.
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Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626?
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1616
(1616)
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STC 3658; ESTC S1520
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6,369
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24
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is the ground of all eternall griefe Why Pride doth blinde the eie infects the minde Venoms the heart and gives the soule a sting And in all vilenes of so vile a kinde None can describe it t is so vile a thing It doth ill humours to such issue bring That pitty t were but such a plague approved From christian hearts should ever be removed O the sweete sence of Loves humilitie Which feares displeasure in a dearest friend The onely note of Truths nobilitie Whose worthy Grace is graced without end For who wants faith wants little of a fiend While faithful love in humble truth approved Doth ever live of God and man beloved Alas the little time of Natures leave To runne the course of her allotted care Where idle shadowes the eie deceave That onely hunteth after Fortunes share And had must leave it ere it be aware Looke looke at heav'n and let the world go by Better to die to live than live to die Let pride be hatefull vnto every state It is a vice with vertue not allowed And such a vice as vertue hath in hate For vertue never makes the spirite prowde But hath her love the humble heart avowde And in advauncement of Nobilitie Gives greatest grace to Truths humilitie Which grace is gratious in the sight of God Makes men as Saints and women Angells seeme Makes sinne forgotten mercy vse no rod And constant faith to proove in great esteeme While Wisedomes care can never truth misdeem But is in some a blessing of the Highest And to the nature of himselfe the nighest It maketh Vertue so in Beauty shine As if on earth there were a heavenly light It maketh wit in wisedome so divine As if the eie had a celestiall sight It is a Guide that leades the spirite right Vnto the place of that eternall rest Where all the blessed live for ever blest It makes a Court a kinde of Paradice In subiects service and the King his grace Whose favour drawes their harts vnto his eyes While they live blessed to behold his face O blessed Prince that in his blessed place In Subiects love beholds his safeties being While they live happy in their Princes seeing God in his mercy send those humble mindes To all the Subiects of our gratious King That he whose wisedom in true iudgement finds Of humble faith what fruits do fairely spring In his good grace may give vs cause to sing If on the earth a heaven be figurde thus The Lord of heaven graunt it in him and vs. Confound 〈…〉 orces of his 〈…〉 Cut off the trayâ—ors that intend him 〈…〉 And of his thoughts and actions so 〈◊〉 That we may see thy wisedome in his will And so his spirite with thy blessing fill That he may seeke to glorifie thy name And we be humbly thankefull for the same O heavenly God let never hellish braine Have powre to doe his Maiestie misdeede But let themselves even by themselves be slaine That doe their spirites with such poison feede And let our harts in teares of Comfort bleede To thinke on thee to blesse thy people thus To have so good a King to raigne over vs. Blesse him our Queen gratious Prince of ours And all their of-spring in their princely places Raine on their soules in thy celestiall showres The heav'nly comforts of thy holy graces That when thou seest thy favours in their faces They in their loves and we in thankfull hearts May in thy prayers make true Musike parts 〈…〉 wisedome his state with wealth Nobles hearts with Truths nobilitie 〈…〉 biects all with loves humilitie 〈…〉 is governement with such a worthy fame That he and we may glorifie thy name Vnto which prayer let that wretch not live That doth not say Amen with sincere hart And doth not thee due glory humbly give That vnto vs in mercy doost impart Such good too good for our too ill desart And grace our musike plaid on tru harts bright For our King Iames blest be the knight FINIS
vngratious traines See how they make their profite of their paines Sorow shame despaire death damnation The Story writes of Iudas constellation What can be thought to be the fruit of Treason Feare in the heart before it be effected A lacke of Grace and an abuse of Reason Where heedelesse wit is ill by wil directed Till both by Wisedome ruinde and reiected While hope of honor runs on Fortunes wheels Findes death and hell to follow at their heeles Who can have pitty on so vile a soule As murder seekes on such a gratious King Let him be put into the divels roule Whose heart can yeeld to such a hellish thing For but from hell doe all such horrors spring Where let vs see how wicked wits do worke And how the divell in their wills doth lurke When Craft hath gotten wealth and Riches ease And ease bred pride and pride ambition Ambition seekes but it owne selfe to please And lacke of pleasure breedes sedition Then if a wicked soules condition Beginne to builde the Tower of Babilon Who will not laugh at his confusion Who hath enough and yet will looke for more Let him remember Midas choaking gold And such a Steward for the Divels store Onely in heauen doth his chiefe office hold Who hath for coine his soule and conscience sold A Traitor proues in such a high degree As merites hanging on the highest Tree When God in mercie sends a gracious King A gracious King gives tokens of his love A loving King is such a heavenly thing As onely grace doth give from God above To such a King who doth a Traitor prove To God and man doth fall out so vngratefull As both to God man must needs be hateful Fie on the world that ever wickednesse Should roote it selfe so in the heart of man While gracelesse thoughts in all vngodlinesse Do onely tincke vpon the golden pan And make their bread of an vnkindly bran Which seeming wheat is but a wicked weede Sowne by the divell in a hellish seede The busie braines that in their high conceits Begin to build strange Castels in the aire Will find their humours fall out but deceits When lacke of wit doth prove but follies heire While patience passion sits in Sorowes chaire To see Repentance proue the best event That can fall out of Rashnesse discontent Oh glorious God since man was first created Was ever heard so great a villanie Did ever men deserve so to be hated As this accursed hellish companie That in their soules doe hide such treacherie Let all the world through all the world go seek What eie hath seene or eare hath heard the like But our good God that with his gracious eie Beholdes his children in his charie love And in the greatnesse of his Maiestie The siely weakenesse of our soules doth prove With his high glorious mercies hand above Even when we most his mercie have offended Still from destruction hath our state defended O blessed Britaine more then greatly blessed In God thy King his Councell and thy state How can his glorie be enough expressed Which to the world they wonders may relate When not by force of Fortune nor of Fate But by his grace thy King and Counsailes care This thy deliuerance iustly may declare Oh heathen hatefull and most hellish soules Void of all thought of God or of his grace That so could make their throates such bloody bowls And such a poison in their spirits place All roote of honour from the land to race O that such beasts as so much shame do beare Could be forgot as though they never were Surely in hell this plot had first a breeding From thence in low places talk't vpon Low in a Seller had it then proceeding And there by low spirits wrought vpon To seeke a kingdomes whole confusion Thus low in earth and hell by wicked fiends Wicked beginnings make as wicked ends But truly lowly had those spirits beene They had not set their haughtie minds so high Nor had their eies with shame and sorrow seene The hatefull fruits of hellish treacherie But Pride the plotter of all villanie In cursed thoughts where all confusions dwell Wrought low in earth to bring them down to hel For Gallowes minds not gallant minds indeed That make Rebellion but a rule of wit Do seldome better with their Treason speede Then iustly is for such offences fit For God himselfe that ever hateth it How ere the Divell blinds the damned eies Will plague it with a world of miseries Fooles more then mad with strange imagination A spiring higher then the hope of Grace Do headlong runne their soules vnto damnation Carelesse to note the nature of their race While beggers seeke both Lordes and Kings to place Working such wonders as were never knowne Till all their wicked thoughts be overthrowne But was there ever such a wicked dreame To overthrowe a kingdome with a blast Did ever witts so worke against the streame All care of conscience from the heart to cast And with their soules to run to hell so fast It cannot be but that the men were mad That in their braines such wicked humors had For when King Prince and lord and knight were gone Then beggars would begin a gouernment And lords and princes shall be euery one Within the compasse of the Continent Of this rebellious beastly rabblement But of this dreame see what a wake doth fall Mercy or Death must make an end of all Do we not see it euery houre effected Treason still hatefull both to God and man And traitrous harts from heavenly truth reiected And hell the place where first the Plot began When Sathan first did seeke the spoile of man When Euaâ—s pride and Iudas auarice Do shew the compasse of their deepe deuice O Pride betrayer of vntempred thought And Avarice the enemy to grace Which brings the haps of al their hopes to noght That in their soules doe suffer them a place Most filthy sinnes that doe all fame deface God blesse all Britans and all Britany From all the venome of such villany And now sweete Lord that you do plainely see How God doth plague this hellish sinne of Pride And what the end of all those Traitors bee That in their hearts do such a venome hide O let it never neere your heart abide But thinke the note of Truths nobility All in the vertue of Humility Prowde Lucifer an Angell was of Light Till he presumde to mount a steppe too hie But see what grew of his vngratious fight From heaven to hell he gat his fall thereby A iust reward of wicked treachery Where losse of grace gaine of endles griefe Paies home the prowd the traitor the thiefe For Pride first layes the wicked Plot of Treason Treason steales into the ambitious breast Ambition robs both wit and sence of Reason The heart of Truth the spirit of his Rest And makes it cursed that might else be blest Of hellish pride the onely Traytor Thiefe That