Selected quad for the lemma: fire_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
fire_n	earth_n	great_a	world_n	2,396	4	4.4621	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A66466	Divine poems and meditations in two parts / written by William Williams ...	Williams, William, b. 1613.	1677 (1677)	Wing W2786; ESTC R8131	55,180	128

with Christ above Though that Rome's Juglers do pretend they can Open and shut the door to every Man And enjoyn such pennance as Christ ne're require And teach by pilgramages they aspire The heavenly Throne by their excess of merit Thinking thereby salvation to inherit Let them forbear further to urge this strife 'T is Christ which saith I am the dore and life How nimbly our Enthuafiasts follow their Leaders These trembling Saints these sanctimonious pleaders By imperious purity seem to reform The world and with an attack of words to storm The whole Creation new model it again And Saint themselves new stile with all their train And tell God plainly with their tongue and pen They are the elect not like to other Men And railingly proclaim that we are down hurl'd And they the only true lights of the world In such a pious lunacy and strain They rant as come to Gospel us again Extravagantly prescribing religious rights To the melancholly fancy of their sights And in a sullen zeal they think they shine As Stars counting themselves purely divine Secluded from others in a peevish trance Of supposed zeal their ignorance to advance And proudly vent their follies with so much vanity To the loss of all good order and humanity See how vain Man doth thus delude his sence In performance of religious reverence How is his heart taken Captive with such wiles As Satan casts before him with his smiles And make him think he 's better than other Men When alas poor soul he can but badly ken His way aright yet with all his might Urge his performance boldly in the sight Of his Creator whose all seeing eye Beholds his weakness and his faults espy Humility Crowns all graces and puts on A comely beauty to religion When confidence in merit doth deform Most zealous actions done with so much scorn And secludes us from the enjoyment of that bliss VVhich attends an humble zeal in happiness Teach us O Lord an humble gratitude And self donial of our selves not rude Prophaness to approach thy glorious Throne Of mercy which is our hope alone Oh le ts not be forgetful of that power VVhich chastiseth mortals every day and hour Nor pride our selves in works though ne're so great But humbly prostitute before the seat Of our offended God and there confess Our great presumption ' gainst his holiness And bewail the imperfections of our spirit By such an holy meekness we may inherit The heavenly mansions where we may have access By faith in Christ and devout holiness Matthew 16.26 For what is a Man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul BEwitching world how hath thy baits deceiv'd Poor Man by thy allurements and bereav'd Of purest comforts for a moments pleasure To be shut out of the blest joyes for ever The enjoyment of our carnal pleasures here Are purchas'd at a rate extreamly dear The Indian Mines are of too small a price In value for that place where comfort lies All Crowns and scepters the earths highest bliss Are trifles to that infinite gloriousness Then cease thy proling humor and controul Thy pining cares least that thou lose thy soul And yet poor Man labors under mistake Thinking the world his Heaven and never take Right aims but with a covetous desire Of greatness earnestly striving to aspire To some great title or bubble here on Earth Which quite expireth with its latest breath And while he labors with uncessant toil Is diappointed by some petty foil He frets and fumes that he hath lost his station And so is turn'd to bruitish transmutation And buries his souls divinity in this Earth Which should have greater happiness after death Here this all ye that study complements And look no higher than the elements Ye gallants of the world that are on fire To pawn your souls to satisfie your desire For fading pleasures chief felicity A seemingly delightful misery Which glisters for a time you 'l surely find They are but shadows that delude the mind Heark all you lofty aspirers to ambition Check your proud fancies with a fair submission You that can worship Sathan with delight And do him homage with your strength and might And glory in your lust without controul And pay the immortal tribute of your soul Thy revellings will be horror in that day When sad regrets will check thy soul and say What profit is it for to gain the world And lose my immortal soul and so be hurl'd Down from my lofty state to endless flame Where 's dread and horror infamy and shame Heark you sensualists that make disputes Whose souls are as unconcern'd as bruits And panteth after pleasures seeming fair With more desire than Camelion for air Thou that wad'st in soaming floods of vice O're whelm'd with wantonness at any price Sporting thy self in the full bathes of pleasure Shunning that Christal stream divinest treasure Counting religion dross and do seem able To correct divinity as a very fable And in such height of humor thy thoughts advance Thinking the lives of Saints a meer Romance Laughing at Heav'n and that diviner light Keeping the worlds vain objects in thy sight It will bleer thy eyes unless thou dost repent Thy looser ways will suffer punishment Hearken thou miser that hath given thy eat To the Rhetorick of a bag thy soul doth chear At the musick of a purse where is thy aim That gaze thy eyes to blindness at a Jem Wishing thy self an Judian for such pleasure That thou mayst ever dwell amongst such treasure Inhabit mines until thou art turn'd to oar Thy hairs to silver and thy heart which poar On the worlds filth into a wedg of gold Then wilt thou be a person fit to hold Correspondence with the Devil in the lower vaults Which will severely strip thee for thy faults Though thou art seemingly in a golden slumber He 'l find a time thy covetous thoughts to cumber With his severe corrections thou wilt howl That thou so lov'st the world to lose thy soul Hearken ye gallants which have lost your sence And are enamored on fashions with pretence To beautifie your Limbs with better shapes Have lost your true Ideas are turn'd apes And meerly live to feed vain luxury With studied dishes for debauchery And martyr many creatures to fulfil The unchast desires of your wanton will Like Epicures on that abundance given By the most good and bountiful hand of Heaven Are your veins purer have you nobler spirits Then should your passions be full of great merits Abandoning a base and covetous mind In getting wealth which will scatter with the wind And breath of the displeasure of the giver Which soon can blast our hopes and make them wither Into a sterile dry and pale complexion And make thee know that thou art in subjection To powers divine that can stop thy career And make thy griping covetous purchase dear Could we live old and still recover strength Not finding the miseries of age at