Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n
Text snippets containing the quad
|
ID |
Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
Words |
Pages |
|
A16751
|
Honest counsaile A merrie fitte of a poeticall furie: good to read, better to follow.
|
Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626?
|
1605
(1605)
|
STC 3659; ESTC S104799
|
5,874
|
30
|
like to a Steeple To ouerlooke a world of people Nor creepe and kneele vnto a Thistle Nor be at euery Beggers whistle Nor vse the trade of Vsurie To bring poore men to beggerie Nor coozen Chapmen of their wares Nor deale vnequally in shares Nor promise much and nought performe Nor scorne an euill to reforme Nor credite euery idle breath Nor seeke the meanest Christians death Nor hardly vse a louing Wife Nor with a Whore to lead thy life Oh be not made a wretched slaue To be commaunded by a Knaue Nor climbe a mile beyond the Moone Nor make the morning after noone Nor stoppe thine eares to good aduice Nor in thy thoughts to be too nice Nor with the Swine to digge the durt Nor seeke thine honest neighbours hurt Nor fall into a Lunacie Nor Herezie nor leloucie Nor haue thy paunch and guts too full Nor beare a bittle headed skull Nor hurt thy Soule for any good Nor idly loose â— drop of blood Nor credite Dreames nor trust to Hope Nor fall within the deadly Rope Oh do not thou transforme thy selfe Nor play the misbegotten elfe Nor rouze thy selfe among thy Bagges Nor glorie in thy gaudie Ragges Nor set thy loue on too much ease Nor be a scowrer of the Seas Nor practise craft in any trade Nor count a Hackney but a Lade Nor builde vp Castles in the aire Nor hope in vaine nor yet despaire Nor loue and care not whom nor why Nor trust a Friend before thou trie Nor come at euery Cuckoes call Nor let a follie fret thy gall Nor striue to wrestle with an Oke Nor spend away thy Coyne in smoke Nor robbe an other of his right Nor loose thine owne for lacke of sight Nor let thy Mony goe for winde Nor foolishly be wilfull blinde Nor pull vp Hearbes and cherish Weedes Nor tittle tattle more then needes Nor keepe thy Mony till it rust Nor in thy word to prooue vniust Nor foule thy Soule with bloody hands Nor hide thy Treasure in the Sandes Nor counterfaire a Hand and Seale To ouerthrow a Common-weale Nor willingly commit offence Nor stand in a foule faults defence Nor kill a Patient with a Pill Nor keepe a Sicke man pining still Nor weare a Fether for the winde Nor stand and waight til fooles haue dinde Nor fleare and leare and looke aside Nor goe on foote while other ride Nor make diuision among friends Nor coyne a lie at fingers ends Not take delight to sucke and swill Nor be a slaue to wicked will Nor foolishly be made a stale To loose a Nutt and get a shale Nor tie thee to a wicked Woman That will be kind nor true to no man Nor do thou fish for muddie Eeles Nor waight vpon a Pack-horse heeles Nor be a Layler to a Thiefe Nor barre the needie of reliefe Nor liue with an vngodly Shrow Nor of a friend to make a foe Nor like a Baby long for toyes Nor sort thy selfe with Girls nor Boyes Nor tell thy secrets to a Knaue Nor digg vp thy old Graundsirs Graue Nor 〈◊〉 a pettie Benefice Nor make a painted sacrifice Nor make of Gold as of a God Nor be by Villaines ouer-trod Nor keâ—pe â— Cocke that hath no spurres Nor dwell among a sight of Curres Nor watch a Moale a Ratte a Mouse Nor breake into a poore mans house Nor like a C 〈…〉 t in thy Chaire Nor play the hidder in a Faire Nor tell no Fortunes nor no Fables Nor feede on crumbs at beggers tables Nor breake a iest vpon a friende Nor dwell vpon a pudding ende Nor whine and cry I wot not why Nor make an idle shâ—w to die Oh do not thou befoole thy selfe To set thy soule to sale for pelfe Nor sigh and sobbe and swell and burst To leaue the best and take the worst Do not thou enuie Vertues grace Nor seeke true Honour to deface Nor play the Rascall with a Rigge Nor sownde to see one kill a Pigge Nor seeke a Birds-nest in a Bush Nor driue the Nightingale to hush Nor angle for a hugie Fish Nor make a poyson of the dish Nor in an Epicurious Feast To lie and tumble like a Beast Nor snuffe and snortle like a Horse Nor seeke reuenge without remorse Nor ioyne with Iewes gainst Christians Nor liue with the Philistians Nor bragg and crake and stampe and stare Nor come where such ill cattell are Nor winde about a Wenches witt To teach her how to play the Titt Nor if shee reede thy paradoxe Infect her with a pepper Boxe Oh let thy backe not be consumde Thy Periwigge not be perfumde Thy tongue be tipt with tatling lies To hide thy spirits miseries Nor with despairing sorrow dwell To leaue the way to Heauen for Hell But if thou seest and canst conciue How Sathan doth the world deceiue That sinne of thee no hold may take Thus to thy God thy prayers make Oh my good God vpon my knees I begge let mee be none of these But humbly fall vpon my face To begge of thy most glorious Grace One sparke of Wisedome to direct My Soule the life of thy elect Make mee to know thy holy will And be obedient to it still Make my delight but in thy Lawes And keepe mee from the Diuels clawes Make mee to tread the way of trueth And honour Age with gratious Youth With reuerence in thy worde to heare thee And in my Soule to loue and feare thee To make thy trueth my strongest Tower And sing thy prayses euery hower Oh scale mine eyes and cleare my sight And shew mee that eternall light Where Mercies loue may let mee see Where all the ioyes of Angels bee That I may heare them sing and play Vpon their highest Holy day And to their Musique now and then Mine humble Soule may sing Amen Oh lay my Heart vpon my Brest And with thy Grace my Spirit rest That all the world within my thought May see a worke of Mercie wrought Where Grace hath made a glorious fight When Sinne and Death are put to flight Oh in thy glorious mercie heare mee Let neuer wickednes come neare mee But in thy grace such comfort shew mee That Sinne may neuer ouerthrow mee With thy loue let me rauisht bee And long with thine to be with thee Be thou my King Oh King of Kinges Thy holie hand tune my hart stringes To sing a new song in thy praise To end in neuer ending dayes My Dittie be of thy deare Loue Where like the faithfull Turtle Doue My Musique may but mourning bee Till I thy louelie sight may see And Soule and Heart may both reioyce When I may heare thy heauenlie voyce My Sinnes forgiuen in thy good Grace Giue mee thy meanest Seruants place Where Fayth Trueth may still attende thee And Loue may neuer more offende thee Oh with thy Grace my Heart inspire To bring foorth Fruictes of thy desire Giue mee thy Peters penitence Pauls Fayth and Iob his Patience And Maries Grace and Iohn his loue That in my heart I may approue When all these Graces meete in mee What ioy my Soule shall haue in thee But Oh my God! my Heart doth ake My Soule with trembling feare doth quake That Sinne hath brought mee in such plight As makes mee ouglie in thy sight And I Oh wretch am one of those Whom thou hast reckoned for thy foes And that thy Mercie will not heare mee Nor Comfort euer shall come neare mee My Prayer turned into sinne No Gate of Grace shall enter in But all my thoughts all farre amisse Shall banisht be from hope of blisse And my poore Soule by Sinnes desart Condem'd vnto eternall smart And yet againe mee thinkes I see How thy great Mercie lookes on mee And tels me Faith may be victorious While Grace will be in Mercie glorious And what true hartes do truelie proue That turne to thee in teares of loue In which vnfaigned faithfull teares Wherein the wofull spirit weares I humbly fall at Mercies feete Where Grace and Loue and Glorie meete And in the teares of true contribution Thus makes my wofull Soules petition In mercie looke on mee deare God Forgiue my sinnes forbeare thy rod Behold my griefe and ease my paine And take me to thy Grace againe That I may see that bright Sunne shine Whose Glorie neuer can decline Where I with Simeons ioy may sing When I embrace my holy King And Sinne may die and Sorowes cease And so my Soule may rest in peace Who will be wise let him take heede He giue no wordes nor seale no Bandes He tell no Lies nor forge no Deede Nor put his wealth in Hucksters handes Who will be Rich let him leaue play Weare bare Apparell fare but thin And neuer make an idle day Nor giue a Point nor lend a Pin. Who will be great let him be bold And beare no Coales for feare thy burne And make a kind of God of Gold And get a Slaue to serue his turne Who will be Honest let him flie The companie of Knaues and Whores And bring his Hart vnto his Eie To thrust ill Humors out of doores Who will be Gratious let him throw His sinfull Soule at Mercies feete That Penitence may kindly know How Sinnes are troden vnder feete FINIS