Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	truth_n	young_a	youth_n	19	3	7.5824	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A01514	The poesies of George Gascoigne Esquire; Hundreth sundrie flowres bounde up in one small poesie	Gascoigne, George, 1542?-1577.	1575 (1575)	STC 11636; ESTC S102875	302,986	538

my race of youthfull yéeres had roon Alwayes vntyed and not but once in thrall Euen I which had the fieldes of fréedome woon And liu'd at large and playde with pleasurs ball Lo nowe at last am tane agayne and taught To tast such sorowes as I neuer sought I loue I loue alas I loue indéede Ierie alas but no man pityes me My woundes are wide yet seme they not to bléed And hidden woundes are hardly heald we sée Such is my lucke to catch a sodain clappe Of great mischaunce in séeking my good happe My morning minde which dwelt and dyed in dole Sought company for solace of the same My cares were cold and craued comforts coale To warme my will with flakes of friendly flame I sought and found I crau'd and did obtaine I woon my wish and yet I got no gaine For whiles I sought the cheare of company Fayre fellowship did wonted woes reuiue And crauing medcine for my maladie Dame pleasures plasters prou'd a corosiue So that by myrth I reapt no fruite but mone Much worse I fere than when I was alone The cause is this my lot did light to late The Byrdes were flowen before I found the nest The stéede was stollen before I shut the gate The cates consumd before I smelt the feast And I fond foole with emptie hand must call The gorged Hauke which likes no lure at all Thus still I toyle to till the barraine land And grope for grappes among the bramble briers I striue to saile and yet I sticke on sand I déeme to liue yet drowne in déepe desires These lottes of loue are fitte for wanton will Which findes too much yet must be séeking still Meritum petere graue The louer encouraged by former examples determineth to make vertue of necessitie WHen I record with in my musing mind The noble names of wightes bewicht in loue Such solace for my selfe therin I finde As nothing maye my fixed fansie moue But paciently I will endure my wo Because I sée the heauens ordayne it so For whiles I read and ryfle their estates In euery tale I note mine owne anoye But whiles I marke the meanings of their mates I séeme to swime in such a sugred ioye As did parcase entise them to delight Though turnd at last to drugges of sower despite Peruse who list Dan Dauids perfect déedes There shall he find the blot of Bersabe Wheron to thinke my heauy hart it bléedes When I compare my loue like hir to be Vrias wife before mine eyes that shines And Dauid I from dutie that declines Then Salomon this princely Peophetes sonne Did Pharaos daughter make him fall or no Yes yes perdie his wisdome coulde not shoone Hir subtill snares nor from hir counsell go I nam as hée the wisest wight of all But well I wot a woman holdes me thrall So am I lyke the proude Assirian Knight Which blasphem'd God and all the world defied Yet could a woman ouercome his might And daunt his force in all his Pompe and Pride I Holiferne am dronken brought to bead My loue lyke Iudith cutting of my head If I were strong as some haue made accompt Whose forre is like to that which Sampson had If I be bolde whose courage can surmount The heart of Hercules which nothing drad Yet Dalila and Deyanyraes loue Dyd teach them both such panges as I must proue Well let these passe and thinke on Nasoes name Whose skilfull verse dyd flowe in learned style Dyd hée thinke you not dote vpon his Dame Corinna fayre dyd shée not him beguile Yes God he knowes for verse nor pleasaunt rymes Can constant kéepe the key of Cressides crimes So that to ende my tale as I began I see the good the wise the stoute the bolde The strongest champion and the learnedst man Haue bene and bée by lust of loue controlde Which when to thinke I hold me well content To liue in loue and neuer to repen● Meritum petere graue The delectable history of sundry aduentures passed by Dan Bartholmew of Bathe The Reporter TO tell a tale without authoritye Or fayne a Fable by inuencion That one procéedes of quicke capacitye That other proues but small discretion Yet haue both one and other oft bene done And if I were a Poet as some be You might perhappes here some such tale of me But far I fynde my féeble skyll to faynt To faine in figurs as the learned can And yet my tongue is tyde by due constraint To tell nothing but trueth of euery man I will assay euen as I first began To tell you nowe a tale and that of truth Which I my selfe sawe proued in my youth I néede not séeke so farre in costes abrode As some men do which write strange historyes For whiles at home I made my cheife abode And sawe our louers plaie their Tragedyes I found enough which séemed to suffice To set on worke farre finer wittes than mine In paynting out the pangs which make them pine Amongst the rest I most remember one Which was to me a déere familyar friend Whose doting dayes since they be paste and gone And his annoye neare come vnto an ende Although he séeme his angry brow to bend I wyll be bold by his leaue for to tell The restlesse state wherein he long dyd dwell Learned he was and that became him best For though by birth he came of worthy race Yet beutie byrth braue personage and the rest In euery choyce must needes giue learning place And as for him he had so hard a grace That by aspect he seemde a simple man And yet by learning much renowne he wan His name I hide and yet for this discourse Let call his name Dan Bartholmew of Bathe Since in the ende he thither had recourse And as he sayd dyd skamble there in skathe In déede the rage which wrong him there was rathe As by this tale I thinke your selfe will gesse And then with me his lothsome lyfe confesse For though he had in all his learned lore Both redde good rules to bridle fantasie And all good authours taugh him euermore To loue the meane and leaue extremitie Yet kind hath lent him such a qualitie That at the last he quite forgat his bookes And fastned fansie with the fairest lookes For proofe when gréene youth lept out of his eye And left him now a man of middle age His happe was yet with wandring lookes to spie A fayre yong impe of proper personage Eke borne as he of honest parentage And truth to tell my skill it cannot serue To praise hir bewtie as it dyd deserue First for hir head the béeres were not of Gold But of some other metall farre more fine Whereof eache crinet seemed to behold Like glistring wiers against the Sunne that shine And therewithall the blazing of hir eyne Was like the beames of Titan truth to tell Which glads vs all that in this world do dwell Vpon hir chéekes the Lillie and the Rose Did entremeete with equall change

crowne Whose haughty harts to hent all honour haunte Till high mishaps their doughtiest deedes do daunte 43 All these with mo my penne shall ouerpasse Since Haughty harte hath fixt his fansie thus Let chaunce sayeth he be fickell as it was Sit bonus in re mala Animus Nam omne solum viro forti Ius And fie sayeth he for goods or filthie gaine I gape for glorie all the rest is vayne 44 Vayne is the rest and that most vayne of all A smouldring smoke which flieth with euery winde A tickell treasure like a trendlyng ball A passing pleasure mocking but the minde A fickle fée as fansie well can finde A sommers fruite whiche long can neuer last But ripeneth soone and rottes againe as fast 45 And tell me Haughty harte confesse a truth What man was aye so safe in Glories porte But traynes of treason oh the more the ruth Could vndermine the Bulwarkes of this forte And raze his ramparts downe in sundrie sorte Searche all thy bookes and thou shalt finde therein That honour is more harde to holde than winne 46 Aske Iulius Caesar if this tale be true The man that conquered all the world so wide Whose onely worde commaunded all the crue Of Romayne Knights at many a time and tide Whose pompe was thought so great it could not glide At last with bodkins dubd and doust to death And all his glorie banisht with his breath 47 Of malice more what should I make discource Than thy foule fall proude Pompey by thy name Whose swelling harte enuying Caesars force Did boyle and burne in will and wicked flame By his downe fall thy fonder clyme to frame Till thine owne head bebathed with enmies teares Did ende thy glorie with thy youthfull yeares 48 Alas alas how many may we reade Whome sicknesse sithe hath cut as gréene as grasse Whome colde in Campes hath chaungd as pale as leade Whose greace hath molt all caffed as it was With charges giuen with skarmouching in chasse Some lamed with goute soone gotten in the field Some forst by fluxe all glorie vp to yéeld 49 Of sodayne sores or clappes caught vnaware By sworde by shotte by mischief or by mine What néede I more examples to declare Then Montacute which died by doome deuine For when he had all France defayct in fine From lofty towre discouering of his foes A Cannons clappe did all his glorie lose 50 I had forgot wherein I was to blame Of bolde braue Bourbon somewhat for to say That Haughty hart whome neuer Prince could tame Whome neyther towne could stoppe nor wall let way Nor king nor Keyser could his iorney stay His Epitaph downe set vpon his Tombe Declares no lesse I leaue it to your doome Deuicto Gallo Aucto Imperio Pontifice obsesso Italia superata Roma capta Borbonij boc marmor bahet cineres 51 Oh glorious title ringing out renowne Oh Epitaph of honor and high happe Who reades the same as it is there set downe Would thinke that Borbon sate in fortunes lappe And could not fall by chaunce of after clappe Yet he that wrote this thundring flattering verse Left out one thing which I must néedes rehearse 52 For when he had his king by warre foredone Enlargde the Empyre and besiegde the Pope Tane Rome and Italy had ouerronne Yet was he forst alwayes from lawes to lope And trudge from triall so to scape the rope Yea more than that a banisht man he serued Least loued of them whose thanks he most deserued 53 Lo lordings here a lesson for the nones Behold this glasse and sée yourselues therein This Epitaph was writte for worthy ones For Haughty harts which honor hunt to winne Beware beware what broyles you do begin For smiling lucke hath oft times Finem duram And therefore thinke possic victoria Curam 54 And yet if glory do your harts inflame Or hote desire a haughty name to haue Or if you thirst for high renowne or fame To blase such brute as time might not depraue You léese the labour that you might well saue For many a prayse in that meane while you past Which bet than warre might make your name to last 55 As first percase you skipt Phylosophie That noble skill which doth surmount the rest Wherto if you had 〈◊〉 your memorie Then bruntes of warre had neuer bruzde your brest Yet had our name bene blazde and you bene blest Aske Aristotle if I speake amis Fewe Souldiers fame can greater be than his 56 Next Rethorike that hoonnie harmelesse arte Which conquers moe than warre can well subdue You past it by and therfore loose your parte Of glories great which therevnto are due And might by right your names for aye renue Such glory loe did Cicero attaine Which longer lasts than other glories vaine 57 Of Physike speake for me king Auicen Who more estéemde the meane to saue himselfe Than lessons leude of proude ambitious men Which make debate for mucke and worldly pelfe Yet was his glory neuer set on shelfe Nor neuer shal whyles any worlde may stande Where men haue minde to take good bookes in hande 58 What shoulde I stretch into Astronomie Or maruels make of Musikes sugred sounde Or beate my braynes about Geometrie Or in Arithmetike of artes the grounde Since euermore it is and hath bene founde That who excels in any of the same Is sure to winne an euerlasting fame 59 My meaning is no more but to declare That Haughtie hartes do spende their time in vaine Which followe warres and bring themselues in snare Of sundrie ylls and many a pinching paine Whiles if they list to occupie their braine In other feates with lesser toil● ygot They might haue fame when as they haue it not 60 Well Greedie minde is of another moode That man was framde out of some other molde He followes warres for wealth and worldlie good To fill his purse with grotes and glistring golde He hopes to buie that Haughtie harte hath solde He is as hote as any man at spoile But at a breach he kéepeth no such coyle 61 Alas good Gréedie minde and canst thou finde No better trade to fill thy boystrous baggs Is witte nowe wente so wandring from thy minde Are all thy points so voide of Reasons taggs Well so mayst thou come roysting home in raggs And lose thy time as Haughtie harte doth eke Whiles like a dolt thou wealth in warre dost seke 62 O bleareyde foole are both thine eyes beblast Canst thou not sée looke vp what man God mend thée Looke at these Lawyers howe they purchase fast Marke wel these Marchants better minde God send thee Sée howe the sutes of silke that they woulde lende thée And many mo so fine in fashion stande Till at the last they pay for vnthriftes lande 63 The Grasier gets by féeding fatte his neate The Clothier coynes by carding locks of wooll The Butcher buildes by cutting out of meate The Tanners hydes do fill his budget