Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
spirit_n	heart_n	see_v	soul_n	7,734	5	4.7469	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A84403	An alphabet of elegiack groans, upon the truly lamented death of that rare exemplar of youthful piety, John Fortescue, of the Inner-Temple, esquire / By E.E.	Elys, Edmund, ca. 1634-ca. 1707.	1656 (1656)	Wing E658; Thomason E885_2; ESTC R207316	5,602	16

in hast He past Out of this World indeed as tho He would not tell us that hee 'ld go So quickly from us lest our Eyes Should shew His Joyes our Miseries And so disturb his pious Breast Rejoycing at approaching Rest He fitly went to Bed so soon Whose very morning was High-noon ELEG VIII HEre let us stay our mournfull looks and see Deaths sums cast up in an Epitome For All our Lives are lost in Him we have Strange Fate our Souls entombed in his Grave Nay 't is not so but thus our Hearts struck dead In our yet walking Corps lie Buried ELEG IX I-nricht with Poverty of Spirit O-n nothing less then His own Merit H-e set his Thoughts His Soul so bright N-ere view'd its own Celestiall light F-ame He abhor'd whose feeble wings O-ft whirleth up the lightest things R-are Vertues as were his do flye T-oo lofty for the Worlds squint Eye E-ach Gem of His rich Mind did even S-end up its Sparks as high as Heaven C-hrist seeing it Divinely good U-nstrips His Soul of Flesh and Blood Those tiresome Rags even so away was hurld Elia's Mantle when he left the World ELEG X. KNow know we not that Death is gain To such as liv'd like Him complain We then for nought why should our Eye Set forth so vain Hydrography Wherein describ'd we seem to see Whole Floods of Sorrow though there be No reason for 't are we bedight With Black for Him on whom The Light Of men so shines are we Distrest Perplext Unquiet at His Rest Le ts not betear our Eyes unlesse it be For want o' th' sight of His Felicitie ELEG XI LO how our Grief rebounds it rages worse When we endeavour to restrain its force The Flood gates of our Eyes set ope the spout Of Tears stopt in will gush the faster out Come sith necessity will have it so Let what gave th' cause give end unto our wo And let 's be plung'd in sadnesse till we find That w'have or'ethrown its resting place our Mind Yea so let this distract our Thoughts that they Ner'e find contentment in these Vaults of Clay ELEG XII MIght we not think 't would come to This that he Spent all his time upon Eternitie As if he came into the world t' obtain An happy passage to get out again Ah how could we expect His longer stay When we perceiv'd him to make hast away Full fraught with Grace unto the joyfull Port Of Bliss unto the King of Kings great Court Where He 's in Glory here in Fame and thus His wished Death makes him Amphibious ELEG XIII NO more be Fates call'd Black sith through them He Has gotten his white cope and liberty From all that Dungeon-darkness which w' are in Whiles hudled up within these Clouds of sin The Thread of 's Life regain'd he now doth see Stretcht through the Ones of all Eternitie Thus Atrop juggleth still with Pious Men And cuts their THREAD to make it whole agen ELEG XIV O That some Seraphim His praise would sing Or lend a Quill pluckt from his heavenly wing Whereby it might be writ for 't does decline His Commendation that is not Divine Young Muses are unskil'd in such grave Theams And hardly can acquire the Sov'raign streams O' th Well of Life for Helicon as should Those that would cast their Verse in such a Mould That it might form his Praise That must not be Verse Rampant which sets forth Humility Pens lightly praising Piety mistake And like bad Pensils blot the work they make Great Ornaments not suited well deface And oft Encomiums mis-exprest disgrace He that would shevv His sacred Worth must be A Limner of Incarnate Sanctitie Which if Men knew both it Him would sure Be thought His fit and only Portraicture ELEG XV. PUmpt Helicon runs muddy and that strain Must needs be jarring that 's wrung out'oth ' brain Distracted with true sorrows vvhich combin'd Root out all Concord ' o th' afflicted Mind Such Lines as should vvear Mourning may not be Drest all-a-mode i' th' garb of Poetry Verse prickt vvith grief goes lame There ner'e appears A Phoebus ' mongst so many Showres of Tears But yet vvee 'l vvrite tho vveakly some may call Perhaps our Faults here artificiall Men stutter most at greatest things 't is fit At such bright Theams to shut the Eyes o' th' Wit That vvhiles our passage stopt vv' are at a stay We may make known the hardnesse of the vvay ELEG XVI QUake Ranter-Gallants and despair to bee Exempt from Deaths untimely stroke sith he Is faln so soon untainted with a Glance Sparkling from Lust or vain Intemperance Which hasten on your Fate whose ev'ry Eye As well as Mouth 's enslav d to Gluttony You live so loosly that your Lives may be Slipt from you by the rrue Mortalitie Then through His Death cast thoughts upon your ovvn And so His Life shall in your lives be shown ELEG XVII RAge Tyrant Death whatever thou canst do Is but to force Him to o'recome thee too As well as this vain World thou strik'st but He Repells thy blow and gains the victory He could not put thee to this shamefull flight Untill that thou hadst first began the Fight Thou strip'st him of His robes 't is true but He Now wears these Trophies that He won from thee ELEG XVIII SOon ripe soon rotten false that Bud which springs So soon in Grace shall by the King of Kings Prun'd by his servant Deaths all-cutting knife Ingraffed be into the Tree of Life Rotten Oh no our soon-ripe Saint puts on A Life that ne're shall see Corruption 'T was time for Him to leave the world for even Here upon Earth His soul was fixt on Heaven ELEG XIX TEll us no more of Lands and Wealth we see They are nought else but winged vanity They flye from us or we from them but they Who from the Treasure of Gods Word convey True wealth into their sacred souls shall be Alive in death and rich in Povertie Hence 't was renowned peerless Saint that thou Wouldst scarce look down upon these things below But shutting thine exterior Eye didst finde The sure sight i' th' eye of thy cleer Minde ELEG XX. VNruly passions shall we still Go mourning thus against our will We know 't is vain to grieve again Our knowing this is all in vain W' are so entrapt i' th' Fates dire gin That strugling clasps us faster in Our hearts with sorrow frozen thaw At the Sun-beams of Reason's Law And so the Knowledge that our Plaints are vain Sith it can't help makes us the more complain ELEG XXI WE on this subject can't be dry Whiles Helicon flows in our Eye Our heart 's the pumpe of sorrow so It 's full still of successive woe That when it is exhaust by th' Pen There springs up new to fill 't agen Our lighter Thoughts may make us weep Some in our souls are sunk So deep That they can't be fetcht up by Art Unless the Tripod of our Heart Should be made visible from whence Phaebus might spend his Eloquence But now alas sith that we finde No Embleme to set forth our Minde How shall we shew our griefs which are Too weighty to be born i' th' Aire Or eke transported by a Quill To publike view Go too we will Add this grief more unto the rest That our vast Griefs can't be exprest ELEG XXII YOung Saint Farewel My work is done Although it want perfection But when we speak unfaigned grief The largest Rhet'rick's to be brief He that doth thus himself bemoan Can't make an artificial Groan His shatter'd words he will so state As shaken by the hand of Fate Whoever has a soul like me Disturbed with an Extasie Thrown on me by Deaths forked Dart Shot through the White of my sad heart Wherein was seated He in whom Now dead I see alive my doom I le Groan no more by book the Smart Of whipping Fate makes me by heart To learn such groans as do rebound Upon our Breasts with Silent Sound These chiefly mount to Heavens Ears Accompany'd with unwept Tears Which a soul-seeing Eye may finde Congeal'd within our stupid Minde Farewel Blest Saint a Farewel's onely true To them like thee that bid the World adieu 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 FINIS