Selected quad for the lemma: mercy_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
mercy_n	let_v	lord_n	love_n	5,328	5	5.4187	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A21163	The paradyse of daintie deuises Contayning sundrie pithie preceptes, learned counsels, and excellent inuentions: right pleasaunt and profitable for all estates. Deuised and written for the most part, by M. Edwards, sometimes of her Maiesties Chappell: the rest, by sundrye learned gentlemen, both of honour, and worship, whose names hereafter followe.; Paradise of daynty devises	Edwards, Richard, 1523?-1566.	1580 (1580)	STC 7518; ESTC S116352	58,144	103

here ment See all say naught holde thee content The Prouerbe is not South and West Which hath bee sayd long time agoe Of little medling commeth rest The busie man neuer wanteth woe The best way is in all world 's sent Se all say naught hold thee content FJNJS J. Haywood A description of the world WHat is this world a net to snare the soule A mas of sinne a desert of deceite A momentes ioy an age of wretched dole A lure from grace for flesh a lothsome bayre Vnto the minde a canker worme of care Vnsure vniust in rendring man his share A place where pride orerunnes the honest minde Where rich men ioynes to robbe the shiftlesse wretch Where bribing mistes doe blinde the Iudges eyes Where Parasites the fattest crums do catch Where good desartes which chalenge like reward Are ouer blowne with blastes of light regard And what is men dust slime a puffe of wynde Conceaude in sinne plaste in the world with greefe Brought vp with care till care hath caught his minde And then till death vouchsafe him some releefe Day yea nor night his care doth take an ende To gather goods for other men to spende Oh foolish man that art in office plaste Thinke whence thou camste and whether thou shalt go The haute hie Okes small windes haue ouercast When slender weedes in roughest weather groe Euen so pale death oft spares the wretched wight And woundeth you who wallow in delight You lusty youthes that nourish hie desire Abase your plumes which makes you looke so bigge The Collyers Cut the Courtiers Steede will tyre Euen so the Clarke the parsons graue doth digge Whoso happe is yet here long life to winne Doth heape God wot but sorrow vpon sinne And to be short all sortes of men take heede The Thunderboltes the lofty towers tare The lightning flashe consumes the house of Reede Yea more in time all earthly thinges will weare Saue only man who as his earthly time is Shall liue in woe or else in endlesse blisse FJNJS G. G. Being in Loue he complaineth MY haute desyre to hye that seeketh rest My feare to find where hope my help should giue My sighes and plaintes sent from vnquiet brest The hardned hart that will not truth beleeue Bids me dispayre and Reason saith to me Forsake for shame the sute that shameth thee But when mine eyes behold the alluring cayes Which only me to Cupids spoyle haue trainde Desyre a new doth worke his wonted wayes Thus shall I freeze and yet I frye in payne O quenchlesse fyre to quayle and quick agayn Such is the flame where burning loue doth last As hye ne low can beare with reasons bitte And such is loue wherein is setled fast That naught but death can ease his feruent fitte Then cannot I nor loue will me forsake Sweete is the death that faithfull loue doth make FINIS M. Edwardes The Complaint of a sinner O Heauenly God O Father deare cast downe thy tender eye Vpon a wretch that prostrate heare before thy face doth lye O powre thy precious Oyle of grace into my wounded hart O lette the droppes of mercy swage the rigor of my smart My faynting soule suppressed sore with carefull clogge of sinne In humble sorte submits it selfe thy mercy for to winne Graunt mercy then O Sauiour sweete to me most wofull thrall Whose mornefull crie to thee O Lord doth still for mercy call Thy blessed will I haue despised vpon a stubborne mynde And to the sway of worldly thinges my selfe I haue inclinde Forgetting heuen and heauenly powers where god saints do dwel My life had like to tread the path that leades the way to hell But now my Lord my lodestarre bright I will no more doe so To thinke vpon my former life my hart doth melt for wo. Alas I sigh Alas I sobbe alas I doe repent That euer my licencious will so wickedly was bent Sith thus therefore with earnefull plaint I doe thy mercy craue O Lord for thy great mercies sake let me thy mercy haue Restore to life the wretched soule that else is like to die So shall my voyce vnto thy name sing prayse eternally Now blessed be the father first and blessed be the Sonne And blessed be the holy Ghost by whom all thinges are done Blesse me O blessed Trinitie with thy eternall grace That after death my soule may haue in heauen a dwelling place FJNJS F. Kindlemarshe The fruite that springes from wilfull wits is ruth and ruines rage And sure what headlesse youth commits repentaunce rues in age J Rage in restlesse youth and ruines rule my dayes I rue to late my rechlesse youth by rules of reasons wayes I ranne so long a race in search of surest way That leisure learnde me tread the trace that lead to leude decay I gaue so large a rayne to vnrestrayned bitte That now with proofe of after payne I wayle my wante of witte I trifled forth the time with trust to selfe conceites Whilste plenties vse prickt forth my tyme to seeke for sugred baites Wherein once learnde to finde I found so sweete a tast That due foresight of after speede selfe will esteemed wast Which will through wilfulnesse hath wrought my witlesse fall And heedelesse youthes vnskilfulnesse hath lapt my life in thrall Whereby by proofe I know that pleasure breedeth payne And he that euill seede doth sow euill fruite must reape agayne Let such therefore whose youth and purses are in prime Foresee and shunne the helpelesse ruth which sues mispence of time For want is next to waste and shame doth sinne ensue Euill speeding proofe hath heedelesse hast my self haue proued it true When neighboures next house burnes t is time there of take heede For fortunes wheele hath choyse of turnes which change of chaunces breede My saile hath bene aloft though now I beare but low Who climbes so high seeld falleth soft deadst ebbe hath highest flow FINJS ꝙ Yloop. ¶ An Epitaph vpon the death of syr William Drury Knight Lord Justice and Gouernour of Yreland deceased at Waterford the thyrd of October An. Do. 1579. JN place where wantes Apollo with his Lute There peeuish Pan may prease to pipe a daunce Where men of skill and learned Clarkes are mute There Fooles may prate and hit the truth perchaunce Why spare I then to speake when all are mumme And vertue left forgot in time to come Giue pardon then to him that takes in hande Though neuer taught with Poets pen to write Will yet presume to let you vnderstand No straunge euent although a sieldome sight Which late I saw a dolefull tale to tell And followeth thus then marke how it befell I saw Report in mourning weede arayde Whose blubbered eyes bewrayde some secret greefe Besprent with teares with sighes and sobbes he sayd You martiall wights abandone all releefe Come wayle with me whose losse is not alone When you your selues haue greatest cause to mone For Drurie he the choyse of all your trayne Your greatest guyde and lampe of clearest light The only man Bellona did retayne Her Champyon chefe and made syr Mars his knight Euen he is now bereaued of his breath T is you t is you may most lament his death Then might I see a warlik crew appeare Came marching on with weapons traylde on ground Their outward show bewrayde their inward cheare Their droms and tromps did yeeld a dolefull sound They marched thus in sad and solemne sort As men amasde to heare this late Report And in the midst of this their heauy muse I might perceiue in sight a worthy Dame Who by her speech and tenure of her newes I knew her well and saw t was Lady Fame With Tromp in hand and thus me thought she sed You worthy wights your Drurie is not dead He liueth he amongst the blessed route Whose noble actes hath purchaste endlesse fame Whylste world doth last no time shall weare him out Nor death for all his spight abridge his name But Drurie still for euer shall remayne His Fame shall liue in Flaunders Fraunce and Spayne The Germanes eke Italyans and the rest Can well discourse of Druries deedes at large With whome he serude a Champyon ready prest At all assaultes the formost to giue charge In many a fraye himselfe he did aduaunce Tweene Charles of Rome and Henrie King of Fraunce In vayne to vaunt the credite he attaynde In natiue soyle where he was knowne so well And Brute hath blowne what glory he hath gaynde In Scotish Land where they themselues can tell In Edenbrough he wan there Mayden tower By fyrst assault perforce the scotishe power But Ireland thou thou thrise accursed soyle Thy luck is losse thy fortune still withstoode What mischiefe more to worke thy greater spoyle Then losse of him that ment thee greatest good Yet canst thou say syr Druries noble name In Ireland still shall bide in lasting fame Wherefore you worthy wightes leaue of to wayle Your Drury liues his fame for aye shall last His vertues byde though wretched lyfe do fayle And taking then her Tromp she blewe a blast Which sounded more his prayse then I can write Or with my tongue expresse in order right Then might I heare the Souldyers giue a shoute The sounde whereof redounded in the skie Great ioy was made amongst the armed route With streined throtes then all at once they cry He liues he liues our Drurie is not deed His vertues rare by Fame shall still be spread In order then themselues they did retire Their weapons vaunst with Ensignes braue displayde What would you more Report is made a lyer Syr Drurie liues sufficeth what is sayde What though his Corpes entombed be in clay His vertues shyne that neuer shall decay Viuit post funaera virtus By Barnabe Ritche Gent. Finis 1580.

all thinges are bounden to obey For all his witte and worthy skill doth fade at length and fal away There is nothing but time doth wast The Heauens the Earth consume at last But Vertue sittes triumphing still vpon the Trone of glorious Fame Though spitefull death mans body kill yet hurts he not his vertuous name By life or death what so betides The state of Vertue neuer slides FINIS M. T. 22. Nothing is comparable vnto a faithfull freend SIth this our time of Freendship is so skant Sith Freendship now in euery place doth want Sith euery man of Freendship is so hollowe As no man rightly knowes which way to followe Sease not my Muse sease not in these our dayes To ring loude peales of sacred Freendships prayse If men be now their owne peculier freendes And to their neighbours freendship none pertendes If men of Freendship shewe them selues so bare And of their brethren take no Freendly care Forbeare not then my muse nor feare not then To ring dispraise of these vnfreendly men Did man of Freendship know the mighty power How great effectes it worketh euery houre What store of hidden freendship it retaynes How still it powreth forth aboundant gaines Man would with thee my muse in these our dayes Ring out loude peales of sacred Freendships prayse Freendship releeueth mans necessitie Freendship comforteth mans aduersitie Freendship augmenteth mans prosperitie Freendship preferres man to felicitie Then ring my muse ring out in these our dayes Ring out loude peales of sacred freendships prayse Of Freendship growes loue and charitie By Freendship men are linked in amitie From Freendship springeth all commoditie The fruite of Freendship is fidelitie Oh ring my muse ring out in these our dayes Peale vpon peale of sacred Freendships praise That man with man true freendship may embrace That man to man may shew a freendly face That euery man may sowe such freendly seedes As freendship may be found in freendly deedes And ioyne with thee my Muse in these our dayes To ring loud peales of sacred Freendships prayse FJNJS F. K. 23. Remember thy ende TO be as wise as Cato was or rich as Cresus in his life To haue the strēgth of Hercules which did subdue by force or strife What helpeth it when Death doth call The happy ende exceedeth all The rich may wel the poore releeue the Rulers may redresse ech wrong The learned may good coūsel giue but marke the end of this my song Who doth these thinges happy they call Their happy ende exceedeth all The happiest end in these our dayes that al do seeke both small great Is either for Fame or else for praise or who may sit in highest seate But of these thinges hap what hap shall The happy ende exceedeth all A good beginning ought we see but seeldome standing at one stay For few do like the meane degree their praise at parting some men say The thinges wherto each wight is thrall The happy ende exceedeth all The meane estate that happy life which liueth vnder gouernance Who seekes no hate nor breedes no strife but takes in worth his happy chance If contentation him befall His happy ende exceedeth all The longer life that we desire the more offence doth dayly grow The greater paine it doth require except the Iudge some mercy shew Wherfore I thinke and euer shall The happy ende exceedeth all FJNJS D. S. 24. He perswadeth his freend from the fond Affectes of loue WHy art thou bound maist go fre shal reason yeld to raging will Is thraldom like to liberty wilt thou exchange thy good for ill Then shalt thou learne a childish play and of ech part to tash proue The lookers on shal iudge and say loe this is he that liues by loue Thy wits with thoughts shal stand at stay thy head shal haue but heauy rest Thy eies shal watch for wātō praies thy tōgue shal shew thy harts request Thy eares shal here a M. noise thy hād shal put thy pē to pain And in the end thou shalt dispraise thy life so spent for such smal gaine If loue list might euer cope or youth might run in reasons race Or if strōg sute might win sure hope I wold lesse blame a louers case For loue is hot with great desire sweete delight makes youth so fond That little sparks wil proue great fire bring free hartes to endlesse bond First coūt the care then the cost marke what fraude in faith is foūd Thē after come make thy bost shew some cause why thou art boūd For when the wine doth run ful low you shal be faine to drinke the lies And eate the flesh ful well I know that hath ben blowne with many flies We see where great deuotion is the people kneele kisse the crosse And though we find smal fault of this yet sōe wil gilld a bridles bosse A foole his bable will not change not for the septer of a king A louers life is nothing strange for youth delights none other thing FINIS Tho. Churchyard 25. Wanting his desire he complayneth THe sailing ships with ioy at length do touch their long desired port The hewing axe the Oke doth wast the battring Canō breaks the fort Hard hagard haukes stope to the lure wild colts in time the bridle tames There is nothing so out of vre but to his kind long time it frames Yet this I find in time no time can winne my sute Though oft the tree I climbe I can not catch the fruite And yet the pleasant branches oft in yeelding wise to me do bow Whē I would touch they spring aloft soone are they gone I wot not how Thus I present the sleeting floode like Tantalus in hel below Would God my case she vnderstoode which can full soone releeue my woe Which if to her were knowen the fruite were surely mine She would not let me grone and brouse vpon the rine But if my ship with tackle torne with rented sailes must needs retire And streame wind hath plainly sworn by force to hinder my desire Like one that strikes vpon the rocks my weary wracke I shoulde bewayle And learne to know false fortunes mookes who smiles on me to small auaile Yet sith she onely can my rented ship restore To helpe her wracked man but once I seeke no more FJNJS M. Edwards 26. Trye before you truste JN freendes are found a heape of doubts that double dealing vse A swarme of such I could find out whose craft I can accuse A face for loue a hart for hate these faigned freendes can beare A tongue for troth a head for wyles to hurt each simple eare In humble port is poyson pact that plainenesse can not spie Which credites all and can not see where stinging serpents lye Through hastie trust the harmelesse heart is easely hampred in And made beleeue it is good gold when it is lead and tin The first deceit that bleares myne eyes is faigned faith