Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
spirit_n	word_n	world_n	write_a	225	3	10.4941	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A58778	The poems of Ben. Johnson, Junior being a miscelanie of seriousness, wit, mirth, and mysterie in [brace] Vulpone, The dream, Iter bevoriale, Songs, &c. / composed by W.S., Gent.	W. S.; Johnson, Ben, Junior.	1672 (1672)	Wing S203; ESTC R37195	39,315	120

panting heart It made the world e're time and world began And for mans sake this word became God-man But they O grand mistake knowing no better Confine the unconfined to the letter A noval-paper deity compounding The spirit with the written word confounding Their Sun is set thick darkness doth invade In stead of light they dally in the shade Aesops devouring dog a greedy glutton Diving to catch the shadow lost the mutton Some Dina or Diana is the cause Of all our woes the breach of natures laws With an Acheldema of crimson blood For trifling toys not rightly understood True knowledge clouded with Egyptian blindness All amity confounded with unkindness The law of love the livery and token Of Christs disciples by division broken This is great Babel mother of delusion Strumpet of Strumpets city of confusion No peace no truth where Jezabel doth reign My hopes were dead my heart was almost slain Sighing to see how all things did deceive me Is this great world too narrow to receive me What hideous deluge doth o'rewhelm thy face That the poor Dove can find no resting place A friend an Vnicorn not to be found When instantly turning my body round A man more then a man a God did meet me With kind imbraces thus began to greet me Through bogs and briers wading in distress Why dost thou wander in this wilderness When thou thy part hast acted on the stage Poor Pilgrim thou must quit thy pilgrimage Time with his Sickle these false joys will sever And when you parted are you part for ever Wean thy bewitched Soul whilst thou hast breath Know this there 's no returning after death These short-liv'd transitory joys ride double Delight with sorrow mixt pleasure and trouble Repentant tears of mourning after gladness A showr of comfort interlin'd with madness Look up to him whose love is still descending Whose greatness no beginning hath nor ending Enter sweet Paradice with Angels singing Swim in the Fountain that is always springing The glories of the world perish in tasting Imbrace those pleasures that are everlasting Follow my counsel if thou wouldst have rest I 'le lead thee where the Doves do build their Nest VVhere thou shalt feast in fulness all the day A lamb among the lambs frolick and play Thou sow'st in fears and tears hoping to find All that thou reapest here is froth and wind Hadst thou the whole world 'T is a little spot Fond fool thy native countrey this is not This Fabrick is a cottage of small price My heart 's thy pallace and thy paradice His breath was sweet it sounded in mine ears More pleasant then the musick of the Spheres Which gently blowing like a whisper came To kindle up loves fire into a flame Excellent consort by whose charming tone Our nature with his nature is made one Silencing man makes him for ever mute Jesus the Lutanist Christus the Lute Christus the Lute the instrument of Jesus On whom he playes what melody he pleases Jesus Jehovah is the grand Creator Jesus in Christo the Regenerator Healer of Nations good Samaritan The Son of God is now the son of man The mystery of mysteries indeed The blessed Sower is himself the seed The spirit by his overshadowing powers Doth breath his flaming heart of love in ours Duality confounded in this union Where heaven and earth do meet in full communion Ravish'd with wonder I did kiss his feet In whom all that is excellent doth meet The lustre of his beauty all-divine Speeds through my veins and made my face to shine I fix'd mine eye upon his face that shone But O! upon a sudden he was gone I turn'd me round about if I could see The footsteps of my love where he should be My Love my Dove my Joy my sole delight What Cherubin hath snatch'd him from my sight O where is my beloved is he fled Dwells he among the living or the dead I 'le search the graves perhaps death hath inrol'd him The marble Sepulcher could not hold him I 'le climb the clifts for him that is my crown His power that made can pull the mountains down I 'le scale the walls of heaven but I will gain him Fond fool the heaven of heavens cannot contain him I mount the rocks ' gainst which the North-wind rages They answer me he is the rock of ages I travail to the Woods is my Love here Eccho did answer he lives every where To the starry region then I take my flight He is the luminous center of all light Whose glorious beams continually do pierce Through all the body of the Vniverse Mans soul 's a sparkle of this light divine Inlightned Souls do all the stars outshine Whose radiance here hath not his full disclosing Eclipsed by the bodies interposing Thence to the springs that Issue from the mountains Thy lover is the Fountain of all Fountains His bosome is a hill whiter then Snow Whence water of eternal life doth flow Convey'd by power through secret unknown allyes Descendeth down to bless the humble vallyes It is not drain'd by drawing but runs quicker The thirsty Soul tasting this heavenly liquor Drinks liberal draughts greedily pouring in Accounts sobriety the greatest sin I sound the rivers but they answer all He is the Sea wherein all rivers fall That bounteous boundless bottomless abyss Where little streams are swallowed up in bliss From this Apollo man's a sparkling beam From this great Ocean a derived stream Springs Rivers Brooks by heavens distilling rain United into one great Sea again True love is not a quainted with pale sear Armed with courage to imbrace my Dear Unto the Lyons den I boldly came The Lyon rampant was an humble Lambe Here in this Wilderness I am a King When I do roar I make the Forrest ring The Elephant his fear cannot dissemble I make the Leopard and the Tyger tremble But I my self am couchant and do fall Before his presence who is King of all Among the homely Shepherds then I stear Such as King David and the Patriarchs were Saw you my royal Prince fond Soul quoth they Who trust in man are sure to loose the way We are lambs as thou art Sheep of his dear fold In the number of his little ones inrol'd Close by the river in fair flowry Meadows And Mountains alwayes green he gently leads us 'T is true we spring from his immortal line But he that is our Pastor now is thine In his great power and glory we do swim Our harps and hearts are tuned all by him We are his instruments his choice delights We are the Song which he himself indites With his own hand he toucheth all the strings 'T is one that plays 't is one alone that sings We are his written word he the Inditer Look not upon the writing but the Writer Enquire of him alone on yonder rock He sweetly pipeth to his fleecy flock Go to him boldly man thou needst not doubt him His pretty lambs are dancing round about

cost Her guests were feasted with a liberal hand To furnish them she plunders Sea and Land At their departure hence for their long stay The reckoning was brought in nothing to pay 'T was Saturns absence caus'd the City's mourning And Bonfires now were made for his returning To make his welcome equal their desire The bells for joy were melted in the fire I secretly within my self thus praid Blest heavens O noble City be thine aid May every Mayor be a Duke or Earl Thy Ships return laden with gold and Pearl Buying and selling banisht all things given With a full hand as they descend from heaven Let there be no Apprentice but all Freemen And every thing as common as some women That fire which many thousands did undoe O let it burn up their Opinions too Let every Soul be ruled by the Dove And no Religion in the world but Love That all mens hearts may shout with joy and mirth That heaven is now come down to dwell on earth Credulity it hath deceived many I would not be ungrateful unto any Nor at his civil courtesie to spurn This Answer to his Question I return I want a Friend Sir He in scorn did mutter It is a ware we never use to utter 'T is not within the walls I dare be bold Nor any where in the large Suburbs sold 'T is a commodity quite out of fashion And rarely to be found in the whole Nation Moore 's brave Vtopia with a deluge drown'd Cover'd with water no where to be found This world affords it not it is a Gem Was never seen but in Jerusalem It hath no stain nor intermitting foil But groweth there as in his native soil Their very walls are built with such rich stone Millions of Pearls cemented into one The breath of love his friendly blast doth blow 'T is natural there as enmity below Dispos'd to good so readily inclin'd They know not what it is to be unkind Some of our modern travellers do say 'T was lately found in terra incognita Sir we expect some Ships but O I fear The voyage long they 'l not return this year A friend it is the thing we most desire 'T would save our shop from thieves our house from fire Pride 's our best friend on lust we make our dinner At ev'ry meale we swallow up some sinner But these thy friends scourge thee with many lashes Melting thy stately buildings into Ashes A dearth of friendship did invade this place Where plenty did put on a smiling face The thing call'd love it was not to be found Pride and ambition did besiege it round Miracles cease I had no cause to mourn If Thames to wine and stones to bread would turn For aged Pauls was falling every day The famine great I could no longer stay My sides grew lean my bowells out of Tune Even in the height and heat of parching June With frozen entertainment here benumm'd I march where the Knights templers lie intombed These warriers as I walk about the Isle Did seem to court me with a Souldiers smile The marbles were less stony then the men Who have exchang'd their swords into a pen The cruel murdering pen that in a word Kills and cuts deeper than the keenest sword Four fleeces from their clients they do shear Four golden crops four harvests in one year Were Ceres to the Plowman half so kind Hee 'd skip and caper like the bouncing Hind His horses too taking their masters mow Without their bells would dance before the Plow Their Ship can sail with all winds that do blow They reap the land which they did never sow The fat of all they put into their purses Together with the widdows tears and curses Their long demurs their bawling in mine ears Their Pedlers french drave me from hence with tears My cause non-suited no man could befriend me Wanting my Guardian-Angel to defend me My forma pauperis was thrown o're the Bar ●uch men are mad that enter into war The gowned battail is not for the poor The remedy they find worse then the sore My Dream continu'd in my sleep I saw A multitude in several bodies draw ●n antique shapes they move with various paces And yet methought there was more minds then faces All would have all men amble in their way And each did think his neighbour went astray Yet none did know upon what ground they stand Mistake the right and turn to the left hand In the morning this side which they change e're noon Like the Chamelion or the pale-fac'd moon All strive to be aloft their brains they beat Who shall be placed in the highest seat In an uncertain slippery orb they reel Moved by that great pow'r that guides the wheel Those heads who now are crowned with a wreath At the next revolution fall beneath From their exalted Empire down they tumble Blessed saith wisdome are the meek and humble Who standing on the lowest step of all Are sure to rise but can no lower fall Who swim in the smooth stream without a bladder By slow sure steps they climb up Jacobs ladder But these benighted wander from the road Loosing the narrow way they take the broad They are ignorant that great doth little grow And to be less than nothing less do know Nothing no favour hath in mortal eyes But to be something is their Master-prize The battell is begun see how they ruffle And ev'ry man doth with his neighbour scuffle Fury grand captain of this cursed brawl Opinion is Dictator of them all Opinion with opinion is at odds And humane reason she prepares the rods To whip the backs of strugling Souls that wander From the blind steps of this notorious Pander Whose beauty now hath lost his virgin lustre Like swarms of Bees or armies when they muster Her bastards multiply all like the mother And one opinion still begets another Of this in estuous Strumpet old and rotten That bloody fratricide Cain was begotten Who when the world a little infant stood Taught men to sacrifice with humane blood Who e're doth play Religion wins the game For now opinion she assumes that name Thus by opinion and his brother fancy The world is overgrown with Negromancy True love religion pure and undefiled A wandring Pilgrim from all hearts exiled With bloody noses and with broken bones Like wanton boys they fight for cherry-stones Their ordnances play their fury swells For a poor handfull of old rotten shells The Nut is good who would not strive to win it It hath a pearl when the sweet kernell's in it Fond Strife hath crackt the Nut the kernell's gone And now they quarrell for the shells alone It is not coloured dutyes fac'd with lyes Regeneration only wins the prize Although Heaven-gates stand open all the year None but a little child can enter there By their own works heavens pallace is not gain'd Mans righteousnesse will not be entertain'd The word the living word a thundring dart Through bones marrow wounds the