Selected quad for the lemma: kingdom_n
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A04549
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A divine centurie of spirituall sonnets
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Barnes, Barnabe, 1569?-1609.
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1595
(1595)
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STC 1467; ESTC S114396
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25,138
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63
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which bestowes each hower With hand of mercie sending forth a shower In large aboundance to produce good seedes My wounded hart with pearsed conscience bleedes When I remember thee my soules succour Who was so many times by mee forgot Who by mee wicked vilest hainous wretch Prophaned oft hast beene but praised not At length though late mine armes mine hart I stretch My soule my sinfull soule I lift to thee Who with thy praises triumph cleare would bee SONNET XXVI GReat God of larges bountifull good giuer Of endlesse blessings as thou didst bestow On me poore wretch that reason how to know Thee without all beginnig endlesse liuer Powre likewise downe thy graces louely Riuer And let it Lord my poore hart ouerflow These like sweete fire which Diuine spirits blow May clearely burne in zeale of thy Loues euer That all my thoughts thy Testament embrace That all my wits thy tearmelesse grace set out That by thee praising I may shew thy grace Which in large Talent thou to mee let out That after good accompt past terme of ages I may receiue a trustie stewards wages SONNET XXVII HIgh King of Kings who with thine awfull cheeke Controles the sterne windes sinfull land rough Seas Who chides in thunder when wee doe displease Whome all things feare and tremble at his becke Yoking in one the Kings and beggers necke Without respect in wrath yet will appease His wrath when sinners penitent shall prease His throne in zeale sincere without contecke Oh God iust mercifull and gracious Full of all plentie blessing and kindnesse Whose endlesse rule past limit spacious Illuminate my soule and banish blindnesse Consider how this sinfull soule opprest With nature by thy grace would bee redrest SONNET XXVIII FOrtresse of hope Anchour of faithfull zeale Rocke of affiance Bulwarke of sure trust In whome all nations for saluation must Put certaine confidence of their soules weale Those sacred misteries deare Lord reueale Of that large volume righteous and iust From mee though blinded with this earthly dust Doe not those gracious misteries conceale That I by them as from some beame some Lampe May finde the bright and right direction To my soule blinded marching to that Campe. Of sacred soldiours whose protection Hee that victorious on a white horse rideth Taketh and euermore triumphant guideth SONNET XXIX RAyons of glorie beames of endlesse ioy Cheerish my soule illuminate my wits Rauish my sences with celestial fits That mistes infernall doe not them anoy All carnall motions weaken and acoy Eu'n from that beame some throne where glorious sits The Lord of light whose eye no shade admits That filthy Dragon my sonles foe destroy Which in foule pit of dreadfull darkenes liues Repleat with horrour and contagious smell Whose shadow noysome mist and blindnes giues Raysde from th'infectious damps of vgly Hell Rayons of comfort through my Temples pearse And consecrate my Muse to sacred verse SONNET XXX HIgh mightie God of Gods and King of Kings Whose awful charge through the round world doth runne Eu'n from the rising of the glorious Sunne Vnto the Seas where hee his Chariot brings What instruments or what harmonious strings Shall to thy graces which bee new begunne And haue so many soules with comfort wonne Giue praises due to such celestiall things Praise and thankesgiuing to the Lord surrender And pay thy duties to thy God most highest Least thou before his throane a vile offender Appeare when sinne and Hell to conscience nighest Accuse thee wicked sinner for that grace Which God bestowde and thou cast in his face SONNET XXXI O Glorious Patrone of eternall blisse Victorious conquerour of Hell and death Oh that I had whole westerne windes of breath My voice and tongue should not bee so remisse My notes should not bee so rare and demisse But euery riuer forrest hill and heath Should eccho forth his praise and vnderneath The worlds foundations sound that it is his Hee which did place the worlds foundations Hee which did make the Sunne the Moone and starres Who with his blood redeem'd all nations And willing none from Paradise debarres Shall not all instruments and voyces sounde His glories which in all these things abounde SONNET XXXII THe well of life the forte of happinesse Rocke of affiance Piller of sure trust Anchor of hope Treasure repining rust Starre of direction Ease of wretchednesse Great Lord of largesse Iudge of wickednesse Balme of saluation Ayder of the iust Fountaine of grace Quickner of Clay and dust Cure of disease Releeuer of distresse Bright Sunne of comfort Iustice of true peace The branch of glory and the Fruite of blisse Kingdomes disposer Husband of increase For penitence who pardons things amisse And in contrition dayly who delightes What man can giue due glorious Epithites SONNET XXXIII THrice puissant generall of true Christian hoast Whose voyce it selfe is dreadfull thundercracke Whose wrath doth nether fire nor lightning lacke Whose stormie frowne makes tremble euerie coast Chasing thy fearefull foes from post to post Whose hands force can all the worlds forces sacke Who turnes his foemens colours into blacke Whose murthering thunderboults for arrowes bee Whose sworde victorious Trenchant double edg'd His holy Scripture is whose foes conuert The pointe to their owne brest and haue alledg'd Vaine arguments thy deare Saints to subuert As thou deare God art iudge so giue thy doome In iustice to subuert ambitious Rome SONNET XXXIIII BEhold deare Father with those gracious eyes Which all the world with their beames glorie brighten My plaints and then my cause in iustice righten My soule repentant still for mercy cries Prick'd with vaine sinnes which in my thoughts arise Hope of thy mercy doth my sorrow lighten Feares least more sinnes ensue with my soule fighten And true zeales of thy loue my thoughts surprise But angrie iustice seemes with irefull threate To giue blacke sentence of damnation vnto my soule distress'd and doth repeate Olde sinnes prouoking desperation Oh saue mee saue mee Lord least that I fall Into damnation saue Lord when I call SONNET XXXV A Rise thou mightie God of heau'n rise vp Against thy sinfull foes of Babell rise And scatter thou like dust thine enemies Let them dregges of thine indignation suppe That haue beene drunken with the strumpets cuppe Like smoke which vanisheth into the skies Disseuer them and like the waxe which fries Before the fire so melt and burne them vp O magnifie the Lord and praises sing Vnto the mightie God of heau'n who makes The clouds to thunder and his boults doth wing With fire and furie who the round world shakes Before whose face Kings with their Armies flie And at whose feete proud Emperours dead lie SONNET XXXVI LOrd with the light of thy cleare countenance My sinfull troubled soule illuminate And with thy mightie shoulders eleuate My feeble spirit and his state aduaunce From thy sweete brest pearc'd sometimes with a Launce For my redeemption from accursed state Lend one deare droppe whose force shall animate My soule
which assayles My feeble soule entombde in earthly drosse Thy precious crosse that launce those pearsing nayles If hee shall them or their deare wounds espie Will bruise his head and yeelde mee victorie SONNET XLVIII O Glorious conquest and thrice glorious speare But seu'n times thrice more glorious the name By which thrice powerfull wee coniure the same Which but repeated doth that Dragon feare That olde Leuyathan whose iawes Lord teare Roote out his tongue which doth thy Saints defame And thy sweete Gospell seeke to vaile with shame This the chiefe conquest of all conquests weare For which Archangels and all Angels might With Cherubins and Seraphins out bring Victorious Palmes arraide in sincere white For which al Saints might Alleluya sing Then glorious Captaine our chiefe God and man Breake thou the Iawes of olde Leuiathan SONNET XLIX I Feele my soule in combat with the dust Of sinfull flesh and ready to breake out From loathsome bondage dreadlesse of all doubt I feele my soule by shaddowes seuer must From that base prison of terrestriall rust Where it shall triumph in celestiall route Of my forefathers Angels round about That glorious throne of the faithfull and iust But yet my feeble flesh surcharg'de with guilt Trembleth at thought of death but why should it Feare coward death since for my soule was spilt His bloud that shall for mee in triumph sit Death doe thy worst but yet Lord thine eare giue Why I with Dauid would not die but liue SONNET L. I Would not die but hue deare liuing Lord And to thy glory shew that facultie With which thou didst mee worthlesse beautifie Turning my Muse to that Diuine concord Which I perceiue doth with my soule accord In endlesse praise of thy Diuinitie But if vnworthy them to magnifie Because my sinfull mouth hath not abhorr'de To bee before with vanities abus'de Thou loath my wicked tongue should them declare Thy will bee donne which cannot bee refus'de For death of sinne the guerdon doth prepare Yet when I die deare God of Loue and truth Remember not the follies of my youth SONNET LI. BReake thou the iawes of olde Leuiathan Victorious conquerour breake thou the iawes Which full of blasphemie maligne thy lawes Ready to curse to lie slaunder and banne Which nothing but abhomination can Who like a ramping Lyon with his pawes Thy little flocke with daily dread adawes Antichrists Harrould who with pride beganne Euen into thy triumphant throane to prease And therefore his first comfort had forgonne The bodies ruinor and soules disease Bawde to that harlot of proude Babilon Which mortall men to mortall sinnes inuiteth Teare out those Fangues with which hee thy flocke biteth SONNET LII FVll of celestiall syrropes full of sweete are all thy preceptes full of happines full of all comforte full of blessednes those salutations which our Sauiour greete O let vs then contende since it is meete to keep those lawes with vpright holinesse oh let vs vse and haue in readinesse those sweete orations prostrate at his feete Begging imploring weeping smiling kneeling for succour grace and for our sinnes humbly repentance mercies signes in our heart feeling Repent and praise our God for it is comely O nothing doth a Christian more beseeme Then him to prayse that did his soule redeeme SONNET LIII DIdst thou redeeme my soule my sole saluation Oh with what raunsome Lorde didst thou redeeme it Eu'n of so precious worth did he esteeme it Because at our forefathers first creation Hee in his breast by sacred inspiration From his owne mouth which did so well so well beseeme it Breathed a soule diuine then let vs deeme it A gracious precious and deare immolation For him to saue our soules with his bloudshed For him to take mans nature man to saue For him to be whip'd nayl'd torne crucify'd For him to sweate in bloud to lye in graue For him most mighty to lye downe beneath Where for our life he vanquish't hell and death SONNET LIIII THen awfull sting of Paile deathes leaden darte Where is thy killing poyson and thy pile Then fearefull horrid Serpent full of guile Whose vgly kingdome hoped for his parte The most of all poore soules in endlesse smart Where is thy dreadfull conquest all this while Behold how Christian soules triumph and smile To see thee bound where thoufast burning art To see that sacred and victorious troupe Whose Captaine Lord of Lords and King of Kings Adorn'd with many Crownes makes all Crownes stoupe Which in high triumph Alleluya sings Makes God and Magog his fell furie finde Which scattred flie like dust before the winde SONNET LV. FRom depth of fearefull Hels eternall shade And bottomelesse discent into that lake In heate and cold where sinners burne and quake Where all things vnconsum'de for euer fade At whose remembrance sinners are dismaide For horrour of those dreadfull pangues which shake And for sweete succour intercession make Of their sinnes burthen and hell fire affraide Eu'n from the fearefull bottomelesse blacke pit At whose remembrance my poore soule doth tremble Saue and deliuer mee whereas I sit Inuiron'd with dispaire which doth resemble An Iland with rough seas inclosed round At euery gust in danger to bee dround SONNET LVI O That I might with the wise Prophet sing Mine heart is ready ready to giue praise But mine is not though willing most alwaies To celebrate the glorious heau'nly King Poore hart not worthie to that Angels wing Which with his glorie through the world doth paise In heau'nly number stemp'red with sweete phrase The least soft downe of Plumage for to bring Then milde then spotlesse comfortable Doue Whose winges were sinne of sinnes to violate Pure Bird of heau'nly sollace peace and Loue With Rayons bright my soule illuminate From that false lustfull Pygeon late returnde Which almost had both soule and body burnde SONNET LVII THrough Sathans malice and my nature weake When in my soule I finde my faith is deade Those sacred schoedes of comfort then I reade Whose powrefull words the gates of hell can breake Then faith in kindleth fresh and then I wreake My wrath on Sathan and vpon his head Mee thinkes like Michaell or Saint George I treade Whilst hee that earst against the Sunne did beake His foreswolne poysonous bulke doth vanquishdlie In his owne filth and I which lately was Like to bee swallowd by mine enemie Now safely like a conquerour may passe Behold my Captaines puissance who did this To ridde my soule from hell and ransome his SONNET LVIII COmfort thy selfe poore soule whom griefe of sinne Downe presseth to the mouth of the lowest hell With contrite penitence thou knowest well Him that will rayse and it from danger bring Pray then and praise the Lord who will beginne To purge thy soule and Sathans filth expell Who thee defileth and in thee doth dwell Oh Lord my voice shall praise and neuer linne So long as thou shalt lend breath to my voice My voice vnto my soule shall spirit lend And in