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Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
land_n	find_v	great_a	king_n	3,579	5	3.5272	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A77759	Midnights meditations of death: with pious and profitable observations, and consolations : perused by Francis Quarles a little before his death. / Published by E.B.; A buckler against the fear of death.	Buckler, Edward, 1610-1706.; Benlowes, Edward, 1603?-1676, attributed name.; Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644.	1646 (1646)	Wing B5350; Thomason E1164_3; ESTC R208713	41,632	130

Here I sojourn some few yeares This world is a countrey strange Death my pilgrimage will change For a home above the spheares In elder time the goddesse Quiet had Her temple but 't was plac'd without the gates Of Ethnick Rome to shew that good and bad Have here their vexing and disturbing fates And do bear their crosse about Whilst within the walls they stay Of this world and shall enjoy No rest till Death let them out Here I am look'd upon with divers eyes Sometimes of envy sometimes of disdain Here I endure a thousand miseries Some vex my person some my credit stain My estate 's impair'd by some But yet this doth comfort me That hereafter I shall be Better us'd when I come home In all estates my patience shall sustein me I am resolved never to repine Though ne'r so coursely this world entertein me Such is a strangers lot such must be mine Were I of the world to dwell Here as in my proper home Without thoughts of life to come Then the world would use me well I am not of their minds in whom appears No care for any world but this below Who lay up goods in store for many years As if they were at home but will bestow Neither care nor industry Upon heaven as if there They were strangers but had here A lease of eternitie The banish'd Naso weeps in sable strain The woes of banishment nor could I tell If Death and it were offer'd of the twain Which to make choice of O! to take farewell Of our native soil to part With our friends and children dear And a wife that is so near Must needs kill the stoutest heart What is 't then to be absent from that house Eternall in the heav'ns not made with hands From Angels Saints God Christ himself whose Spouse Our soul is from a haven where nothing Iands That defileth where 's no danger No fear no pain no distresse All 's eternall happinesse What is 't to be here a stranger I have been oft abroad yet ne'r could find Half that contentment which I found at home Methought that nothing suited with my mind Into what place soever I did come Though I nothing needed there Neither clothes nor drink nor meat Nor fit recreations yet Methought home exceeded farre Thither did my affections alwayes bend And I have wish'd before I came half-way A thousand times my journey at an end And have been angry with a minutes stay Sunne-set I did ever fear And a hill or dirty mile That delay'd me but a while Seem'd to set me back a yeare I built not tabernacles in mine inne Nor ever cry'd out 'T is good being here No company would I be ever in That drown'd but half an hour in wine or bier I have wish'd my horse would runne With a farre more winged speed Then those skittish jades that did Draw the chariot of the Sunne From carnall self-love Lord my heart unfetter And then shall I desire my heavenly home More then this here because that home is better And pray with fervency Thy kingdome come Lord had thy poore servant done What thou hast set him about I would never be without Holy longings to be gone Meditation 8. THere was a State as I have heard it spoken The tale doth almost all belief surpasse That had a custome never to be broken But a bad custome I am sure it was Mongst themselves their King to choose The elected man must be King as long 's they would and he When they pleas'd his crown must loose This State elected and deposed when And whom they would but the deposed Prince They suffered not to live mongst other men But drove him to a countrey farre from thence Into wofull banishment Where he chang'd his royalty For want and all misery Scarce a Kingly punishment One King there was that whilst his crown was on Knowing his subjects fickle disposition Beat his crown-worthy head to think upon Some course of providence to make provision At the place of 's banishment Full-stuff'd bags of money and What things else might purchase land He into that Kingdome sent It came to passe after some certain years His yoke seem'd heavy and his people frown'd King-sick they were their purpose soon appears A new King 's chosen and the old 's uncrow'nd And for exile this foul beast Giddy variable rude The unconstant multitude Dealt with him as with the rest But that his wiser providence was such When 's banish'd predecessours lived poore What he had sent before was full as much As did exclude want or desire of more There he lacks not any thing He doth purchase towns and fields And what else the countrey yields In estate he 's still a King So shall we fare hereafter in the next As we provide in this life Sure I see A providence in all Who is not vex'd And plung'd and lean with too much industry Men of all sorts runne and ride Sweat and toil and cark and care Get and keep and pinch and spare And all 's done for to provide For to provide what goods and lands and money Honours preferments pleasures wealth and friends As bees in summer-time provide their hony To sublunaries their provision tends And no farther 't is for dust That they labour and thick clay For these goods that will away And for treasures that will rust For to provide for what Their present life That 's naturall their bodies have their care Their spirituall state 's neglected there 's no strife For grace and goodnesse Souls immortall are Living everlastingly In eternall wo or blisse As here our provision is Yet are not a jote set by Men do provide amisse Full well I know it I shall be banish'd from this sinne-smote place All here is fading and I must forgo it What shall I lay up for hereafter grace An unspotted conscience Faith in Christ sobriety Holinesse and honesty These will help when I go hence Strengthen those graces Lord which thou hast given And I shall quickly change both care and love My care for earth into a care for heaven Take off my heart from hence and fix 't above And will lay up all provision For that life which is to come Whilst a stranger that at home I may find a blest condition PART II. Of Deaths impartiality from whose stroke neither Riches can protect us Honours Pleasures Friends Youth nor any thing Sect. I. Riches cannot protect us from the stroke of Death OF richest men in holy writ I read Whose basket whose store the Lord had blest And in the land exceedingly increas'd Their wealthy substance yet they all are dead Riches do not immortalize our nature The richest dyes as well 's the poorest creature 'Bove all the wealth of Solomon did passe Ne'r was man master of a greater store He went beyond all Kings that went before Silver as stones and purest gold as brasse Adorn'd Jerusalem a glorious thing Yet death strikes into dust this wealthy King

must take heed they did not soil That comely outside with deformititie Within to have an inside foul would spoil The choicest beautie that their symmetry Just proportion of parts And their comlinesse of face Was not worth a jote if grace Did not beautifie their hearts And that deformed ones should have a care That vertuous endowments of the soul Might recompense those blemishes that were By nature plac'd to make the bodie foul That the mind and nothing else Makes us either foul or fair Out-side beauties nothing are To a mind where vertue dwells Of any age their youth is fitt'st to take The print of vice or vertue 't is a clean Unwritten table where a man may make What characters he will If e'r you mean To make straight a crooked tree You must do 't while 't is a twig When your children are grown big They will not reformed be Sometimes if need require you shall do well To use the rod if duly you correct them 'T may be a means to whip their souls from hell From many sinnes may prudent stripes protect them No such physick as the rod There 's health in a loving scourge It will childrens manners purge And will make them fit for God But whensoe'r you fasten any blows Let sinnes against the holy name of God Be first corrected for a child that knows To give his due to heav'n on him the rod Will prevail with little labour To correct him how to live Civilly and how to give What he ows unto his neighbour And yet you must be moderate in strokes You may not make a trade of chastisements A parent that corrects too much provokes His child to wrath so pious documents Will be cast away in vain Too much mercie is not fit Neither too much rigour yet Mercie 's better of the twain That high and great Jehovah whom we find Adorn'd with mercie goodnesse justice wrath Is evermore to mercie most inclin'd Of all the rest that most employment hath He that suffered near mount Sion And whatever he did hallow By his practice we should follow Was a Lamb as well 's a Lion And e'r you strike observe their dispositions Those foure complexions in mans grosser part Are but a few the finer part 's conditions Are many more Some at a look will start Others will but make a mock At the lash it self and never Will expresse the least endevour To amend with many a knock The Nat'ralists can tell you of a stone Extremely hard which bloud or milk will soften But with the strongest hammer there is none Can do it though he beat it ne'r so often The sea yields a certain weed Which if gently grip'd will flie Roughly will yield presently Rigour such stout natures need Some childrens dispositions are like nettles The gentl'er you do handle them they sting The more fair means in them no vertue settles Some are like thorns the harder you do wring The more deeply will they pierce Mark their natures and you shall By due chastisements recall Both the gentle and the fierce But it must be 'bove all your chiefest care To shine before your children by the light Of good example for examples are Of most prevailing natures What the sight Can be master of appears To be more convincing farre Then all other truths that are Onely objects of the ears A high perfection did the heathen deem it To imitate their Jove were it but in His close adulteries they did esteem it A commendable passage not a sinne In a wrong way or a right Samplers lead I know not how If King Alexander bow Not a courtier stands upright If Cyrus nose be bad or if a scarre Chance to disfigure his imperiall face If Plato 's learned shoulders be too square One 's subjects th' others scholars are so base As to draw 't into a fashion And if Aristotle stammer All his boyes will lisp and hammer Out their words in imitation If cruel Dionysius tyrannize Each man grows fierce and if Antiochus Be lustfull he is not accounted wise That will not be effeminate and thus Ptolemeus Philadelph Loving letters by example Egypt underfoot did trample Ignorance as did himself With scholars like himself Augustus fill'd The Romane Empire and Tiberius he Stor'd it with such as were exactly skill'd In fair dissimulation and could be Leaders in the hatefull train Of those monsters who by heart Had learn'd perfectly the art To dissemble lie and feigne Good Constantine's example fill'd the land With Christians like himself and Julian's did Beget a troup of Atheists such command Examples have In holy writ we reade That examples either way For God or against him for Great Jehovah's worship or Baalim's did the people sway If Israel's or Judah 's King were good The people presently destroy'd their groves Scarce in the land a graven image stood High places owls did rest in each man loves At the least in shew that Jealous God that in the desert fed them And from Egypt 's bondage led them For him onely are they zealous If Israel's or Judah 's King were bad So were the people Altars straight were rear'd To senselesse Idoles not a house but had Their graven Images and no man fear'd Unto Baal to bend his knee Men live by similitude More then law and most conclude Upon what their Princes be If Nebuchadnezzar the mightie King Be pleas'd to fall down to a golden image Thither with speed do their devotions bring People of ev'rie kingdome tongue and linage Three excepted all adore him There 's not one enough precise To refuse it doth suffice That the King did so before him Thou art a King if thou a parent art Each family 's a pettie kingdome and The parents Monarch 't were a kingly part To make thy little subjects understand How in vertue to excell By thy practice that 's a skill 'Bove all other children will No way else be taught so well Look how the primum mobile doth move Accordingly do move the other spheres As in a Jack the wheel that is above With its first mover just proportion bears In a familie 't is so Look what way the parents take That the rest their rule will make Chiefly there the children go Not any godly precept so exact is Which you shall teach your children to obey But that if you shall thwart it by your practice Thus will your junior houshold-members say At least they will whisper thus If vertue be good then why Do not you live vertuously If not why d' ye presse 't on us If by these wayes you strive to educate Whom God hath blest with fruitfull progenies Your children well their early Death or late Shall not a jote augment your miseries A childs death is not a rod To afflict a parents heart He that dies well doth depart Hence that he may live with God Lord if thou make my wife a fruitfull vine Make it withall my chiefest care to dresse The branches well the glorie shall be thine

Meditation 1. IF 'gainst Death's stroke my riches cannot arm me Nor comfort me a jote when I am dying I 'll take a care these witches do not harm me Whilst I do live I know they will be trying To do me any mischief as before And now they mischief all the whole world o're Some riches hurt with that old sinne of pride Rich men extremely swell most commonly This sinne and wealth both in one house abide Poore men are loo'kd on with a scornfull eye Strangely is his heart puft up with pride 's bellows That hath a fatter fortune then his fellows His words are big looks lofty mind is high He with his purse will needs drive all before him He ever looks for the precedency And vext he is if men do not adore him He bears the sway another man must be If not so rich not half so good as he Some men wealth doth infect with churlishnesse They answer roughly they are crabbed misers Course bread yields hardest crust This is a dresse Wherewith wealth decks our accidentall risers Since Nabals death a thousand rich men be In every point as very hogs as he Some wealth makes prodigalls there 's no excesse But they runne into Back and belly strive Which shall spend most belly with drunkennesse And gormandizing back for to contrive New stuffs and fashions This excessive crue Have wayes to spend that Dives never knew Observe these Caterpillers One man puts Into his throat a cellar full of drink Another makes a shambles of his guts The back is not behind you would not think How for themselves and for their curious dames One suit of clothes a good fat manour lames Some wealth makes idle like so many drones They suck what others sweat for and do hate All good imployments Many wealthy ones Have neither callings in the Church nor State And during life do nothing day by day But sit to eat and drink and rise to play These mischiefs are in wealth and many more It throws men into many a foolish lust But if Gods bounty multiply my store I 'll drain these vices from 't For when I must Grone on my death-bed these sinnes will displease me And fright my soul but riches cannot ease me Lord either keep me poore or make me rich In grace as well as goods my wealth undresse If I have any of those vices which Are wont to clothe it so shall I possesse Riches without those sinnes that riches bring ' That when death comes they sharpen not his sting Meditation 2. THough God doth blesse me all my time along With best of blessings make my courses thrive Fill full my garners make my oxen strong To labour and although his bountie give As much to me as to a thousand more Though I am rich and all my neighbours poore Though Fortune fanne me with a courteous wing Though gold be at my beck though I have sail'd With prosp'rous gales though not an adverse thing Did e're betide me though I never fail'd Of good successe in any undertaking Yet am I still one of the common making A piece of dust and clay and I may go Into my grave as soon 's a poorer man Our mold 's alike God at first made us so He makes the rich mans life but like a span And so the beggers is just both alike And both fall when impartiall Death doth strike When they are fallen both alike they lie Both breathlesse noisome livelesse senselesse cold Both like the grasse are withered dead and drie And both of them are ghastly to behold The ods is this The poore man mongst the croud Of buried mortalls hath the coursest shroud Why sinne the foolish sonnes of men for gain Why doth the Land-lord rack the Us'rer bite Why doth the Judge with bribes his conscience stain Why doth the bauling Lawyer take delight In spinning causes to a needlesse length Untill his clients purse hath lost its strength Why are Gods Ministers become men-pleasers And why are Patrones simoniacall Why are our Advocates such nippy teasers Of honest causes why the devil and all Do Misers scrape and why do Tradesmen rear Their price yet sell time dearer then their ware Sure these bad courses cannot choose but hurt us They make Deaths looks more ghastly and his sting More piercing but our wealth cannot support us 'gainst smallest pains and fears that Death will bring Riches do promise much but do deceive us When we have need of succour then they leave us Anoint me Lord with eye-salve to discern What poore contents the world affords at best Instruct me Lord and I shall quickly learn That without thee there 's no condition blest Bad wayes of gaining into hell will drive me But all my wealth will not from Death reprive me Meditation 3. SOme therefore sinne because they do abound In store of wealth this is the onely ground Of many sinnes Gods laws they do transgresse They wrong their equals and the poore oppresse They tread religion and civilitie Both under foot all kind of tyrannie They exercise on all within their reach Nothing can keep them in they make a breach Through all those fenses which at the beginning God set to keep rebellious man from sinning They will be revellers whoremongers swearers Drunkards oppressours liers and forbearers Of no impiety this is the reason Great men they are and rich 'T is petty treason Though in a modest way for to reprove Those sinfull courses which our betters love If we dare do it though we have a calling To do it boldly we are tax'd for bawling And saucie fellows and another day Sure we shall smart for 't Lord I 'll never say I 'll sinne because I 'm rich unlesse that I Could say I 'm rich and therefore will not die Meditation 4. IF from Deaths stroke my riches cannot shield me Nor on my death-bed any comfort give Then I will take a care that they shall yield me Some joy and comfort whilst I am alive And never shall a jote my sinnes increase Nor hinder me from going hence in peace I 'll get them well my calling shall be lawfull My brows or brains shall sweat for what I have And I will use my calling with an awfull Regard of God and conscience nor will crave What I have not a right to They do eat Scarce their own bread whose faces never sweat Unlesse they sweat with eating Nor can I Find any warrant for those wayes of gain Which many men do get their livings by To keep a needlesse Alehouse to maintein An idle familie to be a Pander A Fortune-teller or an Apes commander A purblind Crowder or a Rogue that canteth A Cuckold by consent for ready pay A sturdy Begger that not one limb wanteth Or one that borrows money on the way A Us'rer who whether 't shine or rain If the Sunne stand not still is sure of gain For these I find no warrant nor for dealing Deceitfully in selling or in buying To take more then

what 's sold is worth is stealing Or to give lesse the art of multiplying Our lands or gold or silver by subtracting From other mens or by unjust exacting What is not ours Better in my opinion It were to feed on barley-bread and pottage Made of salt water and an onion To wear a thred-bare coat and in a cottage Smoke-bound and rusty pennylesse to dwell Then to get wealth unlesse I get it well And when 't is justly gotten every thought That I 'll bestow upon it shall be such As it deserves If heav'ns full hand hath brought Plenty into my bosome if as much I have as I could wish my care shall be To think of 't all as of a vanity A vanity that for ought I do know May take its flight and in an houre leave me As God had many wayes for to bestow His bounty on me he hath to bereave me As many more as moveables I 'll deem it From me or with me and I will esteem it A strong temptation unto many a sinne That never will perform what it doth promise That wealths fair books when we are deepest in The greater reck'ning God exacteth from us I 'll not afford my wealth a better thought And I do think I think on 't as I ought And as I ought I 'll use 't Not to be fewel For any lust nor to maintein my riot Not to be prodigall vainglorious cruel Nor yet to make my potent purse disquiet My poorer brother but from thence I 'll raise My neighbours profit and my Makers praise Where there is need I 'll ready be to give Glad to distribute naked ones I 'll cover Hungry and thirsty souls I will relieve Widows distress'd in me shall find another Husband to orphanes I will be in stead Of parents to provide their daily bread I 'll never empty send the poore away The Church shall ever find my purse unty'd The King shall have his due without delay The Common-wealth shall never be deny'd Thus shall my wealth be common unto many If ever God be pleas'd to send me any Riches so justly gotten and imploy'd So piously although they cannot make A man immortall that he should avoid The grave and rottennesse yet do not shake The soul with terrours and such desperate fears As what 's ill gotten doth when Death appears Make me a faithfull Steward holy Father Of what thou hast intrusted me withall Where I straw'd not grant I may never gather Nor sinne in spending Then send Death to call Me to account Lord when thou wilt and I Shall entertein the message joyfully Sect. 2. Honours cannot protect us from the stroke of Death OF honours all that can be said doth meet In Kings and Princes glory majesty Command and titles yet their sacred feet Trudge to the grave-ward Power Royaltie A Kingdome Crown and Sceptre cannot be Protections against mortalitie Princes are Gods on earth yet sure they must As well as meaner men be sick and die Their Royall bodies shall be chang'd to dust No crown below is worn eternally Of all those Kings which in Gods book we reade One died and another reign'd in 's stead If good and loyall subjects had their wish A gracious Prince should never see the grave Nor should his Royall corps be made a dish For worms but pious wishes will not save A King from dust As other mens his breath Is in his nostrils Crowns must bow to Death Sure were it not a kind of petty treason To wish his Majesty so long without A crown of glory I should think it reason To pray his lamp of life might ne'r go out Though not in 's self yet Lord grant he may be Immortall in a blessed progenie Meditation 1. MOngst us an humble great one is a wonder Rarer by ods then is a winters thunder Great men and good each other seldome kisse Pride to preferment 's married O! there is Not a thought within their brain Of a grave nor yet of seeing Death nor do they dream of being Changed into dust again Consider Sir though you have been a taster Of Princes favours mounted all degrees Of honour have been called Lord and Master Though your approch hath bow'd as many knees As once mighty Hamans yet Is it not Eternity That you hold your greatnesse by Death and you must one day meet As I remember I have read a story That one in Embassy sent from the King Of Persia to Rome was shew'd the glory Of that proud citie every famous thing That was by the Romanes thought To expresse the great and mighty Prowesse of their glorious city Thither was the Persian brought There he beheld such glorious structures rais'd To dare the skies that outwent all examples Where art and cost workman and founder prais'd Baths Theatres Tombs Monuments and Temples Statues that would wonder-strike Any mortall man that should Once behold them neither could All the world shew the like After this view Romes mighty Emperour Longing for praises in the Persian tongue Demanded of this strange Embassadour What he now thought of Rome I should do wrong To your sacred Majesty Thus th' Ambassadour reply'd And this glorious place beside If I should not magnifie Both you and it But one thing I dislike In Rome it self I see that Death doth reigne As well here as in Persia and doth strike The greatest down and when he please doth chain People Senatours and Kings In cold fetters made of dust Even noble Romanes must Feel what putrefaction brings Your Emperours themselves have had their turns In fun'rall piles These tombs can testify The Caesars mortall In these sacred urns What lies but royall dust Mortality Happens here and I know no man But hath power to hold his breath As long and is free from Death As much as the noblest Romane Look we a little on this land of ours Here 's plenty peace and every other blessing Into her bosome God in plenteous showres Rains kindnesses that are beyond expressing Sure we of this kingdome may Justly our Creatour praise For a share in happier dayes Then Rome did at best enjoy Ours is a land of barly and of wheat Our stones are iron and our hills yield brafse A land wherein th' inhabitants do eat Bread without scarcenesse here our blessings passe All enumeration What God severally bestows Upon others joyntly flows From his bounty to this nation Yet here men die too not the russet Clowns And Peasants onely that do hold the plow And Shepherds that sit piping on the downs And milk-maids that do court'sie to a cow But those noble men that have Titles lordships farms and mannours And a great book full of honours These go down into the grave See you not yonder super-stately palace Three generations since that house was builded A great man did it for his Lordships solace In summer-time but dying up he yielded To his heir this stately pile This heir left it to his brother He dy'd too and then another Swagger'd there