Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A65256
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Flamma sine fumo, or, Poems without fictions hereunto are annexed the causes, symptoms, or signes of several diseases with their cures, and also the diversity of urines, with their causes in poeticl measures / by R.W.
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R. W. (Rowland Watkins)
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1662
(1662)
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Wing W1076; ESTC R9085
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61,985
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160
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and still the sunshine love On these unconstant worldlings I do look As on the image in the Prophets book The head of gold of silver th' arms and breast The thighs and belly were of brass the rest As legs and feet of iron were and clay The image fell and moulder'd all away So wavering men who use no constant Creed From good to bad from bad to worse proceed But here is one who like a Martyr ran And held throughout the course he first began No strong temptations threatning swords or gold Could flat his resolution he ne'r sold His love for gain his heart was firm and stable Unto his King as th' Anchor to the Cable So stands the stately Pine which rooted fast And deep in earth disdains the weaker blast To make one perfect Nature never could Have form'd a man in a more decent mould But wiser men neglect the outward shell And praise his braver soul where vertues dwell His sole ambition rightly understood Is only to be known not great but good His actions are so just that you 'd protest Astraea dwelt within his sacred breast With unclipt wings let may Ambition fly As his desires are good his merits high GRACE Qui quaerit invenit MEn dig the bowels of rhe earth for gold And rocks for precions stones and some are bold To dive into the sea for pearl Few care To get the pearl of Grace more rich more rare The Manna and the Quails were dainty meat And as delicious as a man could eat But taste the food of Grace and thou shalt find It yields a better relish to thy mind Grace makes the poor man rich the bline to see The sad man full of joy the bondman free Weak humane thoughts it turns to thoughts divine As Christ at Cana watet turn'd to wine It sweetens all conditions rich and poor Like some pure incense and preserves thy store A good Report Honestus rumor optimum est patrimonium Qui malè facit malè audit DO not neglect the candor of thy Name Thou shouldst not stain thy clothes much less thy fame Fine houses men will build repair and trim And keep them neat without and fair with in But little they regard if by foul ways â—hey blot their names and flubber o're their days Such men in life are odious and shall be In death a scandal to posterity I 'll tread a righteous path â—ia good Report Makes men live long although their life is short Sampson's Riddle Out of the strong camâ— sweet CHrist was the Lamb Christ was the Lion slain To save our souls from everlasting pain From Judab's Lion all sweet pleasures flow No mercies but from him we have or know He was a Lion mighty strong in pow'r Before he could Death Sathan Hell devour A Dark Lanthorn THis Lanthorn is but dull and dark in sight As if it had not the least spark of lightâ— The light is clos'd within which none can spy Or well discern unless the curious eye So good men care not that the world should know How good they are by any outward shew Thus Cabinets appear but mean and plain Yet many times rich pearl and gold contain Thus the best Wine that ever you can wish Is often tasted in an earthen dish Some look like holy Temples when they are Like graves within defil'd with rotten ware Of my weak deeds I will no trumpet sound The heart is humble where good gifts abound Man's Infirmity WIse Adam fell in Paradise the good Angels in Heaven fell who always stood In Gods own presence Faithful Peter fell Though in Christs school he was brought up so well David committed murther righteous Lot Defil'd his name with an incestuous blot No Oak so strong no Cedar is so tall But shaken with tempestuous wind may fall No man so perfect is so pure a Saint But in the battel he may fail and faint If God prevents not Man that 's born to sorrow May safely stand to day and fall to morrow The Common people Neutrum modò mas modo vulgus THe many-headed Hydra or the People Now build the Church then pull down Bells and Steeple To day for learned Bishops and a King They shout with one consent to morrow sing A different note One while the people cry To Christ Hosanna then him crucifie And thus the wavering multitude will be Constant in nothing but inconstancie When these together swarm the Kingdom fears They are as fierce as Tygers rude as Bears The Rock in Horeb. ONce onely Moses with his sacred rod The Rock in Horeb strucks as he by God Commanded was then waters gusht and fell From the hard Rock as from a running Well Lord thou didst often strike me never kill Thy rod was gentle I am stubborn still Soften my stony heart that tears may flow None reap in joy but those in tears that sow The holy Sepulchre CHrist is our Rock who in a rock is lain The lesser rock the greater doth contain Out of a rock they newly hew'd his grave The new man Christ thus a new tomb must have No creature might repose or lay his head Without presumption in the Creators bed The Lily of the valley Sharon's Rose His fragrant grave in a sweet garden chose This Rock did shelter Christ two days but he An everlasting Refuge is to me He is the Rock that doth our souls relieve With water which doth life eternal give The Passing-Bell THe Passing-Bell doth toll my thred is spun My candle is burnt out my hour-glass run This sound is doleful and this musick 's sad To those which in the world are rich and bad It is like Davids musick sweet to me Which doth my soul from evil spirits free I end my life and yet to live begin I shall in glory live who liv'd in sin The Spiritual Watchman Nulla venit sine te nox mihi nulla dies WHen private in my bed I take my rest I muse on all the gifts wherewith God blest And made me glad The thankful man alone Climbs Jacobs ladder and ascends Gods throne I think on heaven's joys and do admire Of Saints and Angels the harmonious quire Sometimes I think of hell where rich men ly In deadly torments and yet cannot dy My life I call to mâ—nd which God hath made Short like a span vaine as a dream or shade This night may be my last and I may have My sheet to be my should my bed my grave I count past sins which so defile my soul That on the dunghil Job was not so foul These holy thoughts possesse my serious head Til tears run downe and wash my careful bed LOVE Amor est complementum legis OUr God is love who doth remain in love In the same sphear with God himself doth move All things by perfect nature do agree And seem to hold a mutual sympathy The heavens to love their inclination show Which fairly do embrace this orb below The fire the water earth and air agree