Selected quad for the lemma: water_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
water_n	bread_n	lord_n	wine_n	3,679	5	7.3104	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A61484	Bellum presbyteriale, or, As much said for the presbyter as may be together with their covenants catastrophe : held forth in an heroick poem / by Matth. Stevenson, Gent.	Stevenson, Matthew, fl. 1654-1685.	1661 (1661)	Wing S5500; ESTC R11127	8,668	26

aside with the Baptismall Vow The Eunuch if amongst your Classick Cinders Could not have said here 's water then what hinders What else would ye but in your vast desire Forestall Christ's Office and baptize with fire When at the Table of the Lord we stay For Bread and Wine ye send us empty away Whom we must therefore worse than Papists call For they give half but you give none at all And with your Pharisaick Demagogs Call it a giving Childrens bread to Dogs Classicks take heed 't will be remembered Ye gave Christs hungry people stones for bread For Funerals y' have brought us to that pass No burial but the burial of an Asse Methinks a word were sweet in such a place Where Death even looks the People in the face Through the Deceased's Coffin such a sight Would of an ATHEIST turn a PROSELITE Nay very Dreams do sometimes men convert The Phansie turning Preacher to the Heart When could your words pierce deeper than imprest VVhen Fear and Sorrow have possest the breast Dumb Dogs that from the House of Mourning sneak Leaving the more relenting stones to speak Strange kind of Brethren neither will give bread To those that live nor bury those are dead But what My Saviour said so say I too Forgive them Lord they know not what they do But ye may see if on your Schisms ye look You dearly want our Divine Service-Book In which is wrapt up such a Form of Prayer As next Christs Pattern does transcend compare Nothing being in 't but of approved worth Nothing but what the Sacred Text holds forth Even in its phrase and method signifi'd In terms express or at the least imply'd It pass'd the persecution 't were a story Too dire and dismal for your DIRECTORY This they have left us for the CHURCHES good Seal'd and deliver'd with their own hearts blood A Heavenly Legacy By my consent It shall be call'd The Bishops TESTAMEMT VVhich you that slight were you your turns to take Ye would be brought I doubt as Bears to th' stake VVhilst for your IDOL none a Faggot kiss Bishops have bled Bishops have broyl'd for this But Faction and Ambition were the cause And not Religion Conscience or the Laws The Mitre and the means belonging to 't Was that which set this holy war on foot And finding now the Spirits Sword to fail The arm of flesh must help it to prevail VVhen Rebels draw the Sword upon their KING Into the fire they must the Scabberd fling No dallying now down goes the Church's hedge To make an open way for SACRILEDGE And the Scotch Boar forthwith's invited in To be partaker of the Prey and Sin VVho seeing in what straight our Classicks lay Though he scarce patience had to keep away But like a Garrison that must resign On terms though ne'r so hard rather than pine Or as the Scythians that have never fled Their Countrey Confines but for want of bread So said these SCOTS come up and let us go There 's Corn in Aegypt yea and Flesh-pots too But stay awhile the Jewes must Sampson bind Or we have Castles in the Air design'd They must take Strafford off whose single worth Does weigh down all the Vertue of the North Thus Wentworth dy'd whose Innocence was such That all the Law in England could not touch Thus fell the Churches Champion hurry'd hence To leave the Temple void of a defence Nor is this scum yet to assistance drawn Till they to them their Souls in Cov'nant pawn Hinc illae lachrymae Hence these Traytors bring The Land infected with the cursed thing This long time Loyal Learned Church must bow To the Scotch Kirk she is her Mistris now The Copy's set and ENGLAND it appears Must follow 't though in bloudy Characters Now comes the Army which did you but see You 'd swear it were a Goal-deliverie First came the Pedlar Lashley with his pack Not of smal wares but Oatmeal at his back Next came the Horse which so beheltred were A man would think them going to a Fair. The Trumpet sounded boote-sele long But Deil a boot or Saddle in the throng Except some Jockie galled with a botch Got a blew Cap to gratifie his notch I wonder they ne'r in the stirrop hung For either foot was with a halter strung By which it doth evidently appear They came to do much execution here Their boots were wisps they on their Legs did draw Who then can say they were not worth a straw Thus on their Galloways while the Army jogs Ye'd swear their muckle Horse were Mastiff Dogs On whose keen backs they did their bums endorse As men condemn'd to ride the wooden horse The Foot march'd in such haste as I suppose Many a leg there was out-ran his hose Their clothes so tatter'd were one would have swore That they had been in fight the day before For every Suite so scollop'd was with rags Like Dung-hill-Rakers that had rob'd their bags O had the Army stood a little still What work had there been for a Paper-mill But that in those so antiquated Cuts The ' Squiers of the body had their Huts Of all the Shirts upon their backs was found Scarce so much Lint would dress a single wound I might march on but here 's enough of these Volumns must speak their Bags and Baggages Now Presbyterians view your proper studds These are the Saints ye fetcht for all our Goods And because those were not enough they sold Their Sovereign Lord and Master too for Gold See now your Images your golden Calves With price and pray'r procur'd in your behalves And by vast sums it plainly does appear That truly these have been your brethren dear And certainly you here the Jewes out-do To give your ear-rings and your Lop-ears too Nay such a false such an impost'rous Crew Are yet to learn the way of meaning true And have a form of fallacy in KIRK Mecha would not accept it for her Turk Thus in pretence to bring the Gospel to us Ye throng'd in swarms of Locusts to undo us Panthers and Tygres a ravenous race Of Harpies that forestall the saying Grace Harpies I do correct my hasty pen These Miscreants had not the face of men These are your friendly friends indeed these are Saints Canoniz'd in Satans Calendar Dissention kindled Zealots that desire Like Salamanders still to live in fire Yet to these Vagrants have ye as I said Your KING your Country your Church betrayd This was the Crew wherewith ye England vext Doubtless ye mean to bring the Devil next But wicked Wagg'ners see what ye have done Aspiring to the Charriot of the Sun Like busie Flyes ye at the Candle aim And scorch your selves to Cinders in the flame Was it for this ye waded through a floud Of Widdows tears and a red Sea of bloud When to your selves ye did propound whole Realms An INDEPENDENT all the plot o'rwhelms And on the tropick of your trophies stands Murd'ring your KING when you