Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	body_n	nature_n	soul_n	2,893	5	5.2542	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A20823	Idea the shepheards garland Fashioned in nine eglogs. Rowlands sacrifice to the nine Muses.	Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.	1593 (1593)	STC 7202; ESTC S105396	21,894	76

vvhen he seeth him take his foode and yet his chaps can chevv no hay at all Borrill euen so it fareth novv vvith thee And vvith these vvisards of thy mysterie Borrill Sharpe is the thorne full soone I see by thee bitter the blossome vvhen the fruite is sovver And early crook d that vvill a Camock bee rough is the vvinde before a sodayne shovver Pittie thy vvit should be so vvrong mislead And thus be guyded by a giddie head Ah foolish else I inly pittie thee misgouerned by thy lewd brainsick will The hidden baytes ah fond thou do'st not see nor find'st the cause which breedeth all thy ill Thou think'st all golde that hath a golden shew And art deceiu'd for it is nothing soe Such one art thou as is the little flie who is so crowse and gamesome with the flame Till vvith her busines and her nicetie her nimble vvings are scorched vvith the same Then fals she dovvne vvith pitteous buzzing note And in the fier doth sindge her mourning cote Batte Alas good man I see thou ginst to raue thy vvits done erre and misse the cushen quite Because thy head is gray and vvordes been graue Thou think'st thereby to dravv me from delight What I am young a goodly Batcheler And must liue like the lustie limmeter Thy legges been crook'd thy knees done bend for age and I am svvift and nimble as the Roe Thou art ycouped like a bird in cage and in the field I vvander too and froe Thou must doe penance for thy olde misdeedes And make amends vvith Auies and vvith creedes For al that thou canst say I will not let for why my fancie strayneth me so sore That day and night my minde is wholy set on iollie Loue and iollie Paramore Only on loue I set my whole delight The summers day and all the winters night That pretie Cupid little god of loue whose imped wings with speckled plumes been dight Who striketh men below and Gods aboue Rouing at randon with his feathered flight When louely Uenus sits and giues the ayme And smiles to see her little Bantlings game Vpon my staffe his statue will I carue his bowe and quiuer on his winged backe His forked heads for such as them deserue and not of his an implement shall lacke And Uenus in her Litter all of loue Drawne with a Swanne a Sparrow and a Doue And vnder him Thesby of Babylon and Clcopatra somtime of renovvne Phillis that died for loue of Demophôon Then louely Dido Queen of Carthage towne Which euer held god Cupids lawes so deare And been canoniz'd in Loues Calendere Borrill Ah wilfull boy thy follie now I finde and hard it is a fooles talke to endure Thou art as deafe euen as thy god is blinde sike as the Saint sike is the seruiture But wilt thou heare a good olde Minstrels song A medicine for such as been vvith loue ystong Batte Borrill sing on I pray thee let vs heare that I may laugh to see thee shake thy beard But take heede Borrill that thy voyce be cleare or by my hood thou'lt make vs all afeard Or els I doubt that thou wilt fright our flockes When they shall heare thee barke so like a foxe Borrill Oh spight full way ward wretched loue VVoe to Venus which did nurse thee Heauens and earth thy plagues do proue Gods and men haue cause to curse thee Thoughts griefe hearts woe Hopes paine bodies languish Enutes rage sleepes foe Fancies fraud soules anguish Desires dread mindes madnes Secrets be wrayer natures error Sights deceit sullens sadnes Speeches expence Cupids terror Malcontents melancholly Liues slaughter deaths nurse Cares slaue dotards folly Fortunes bayte worlds curse Lookes theft eyes blindnes Selfes will tongues treason Paynes pleasure wrongs kindnes Furies frensie follies reason VVith cursing thee as I began Cursing thee I make an end Neither God neither man Neither Fayrie neither Feend Batte Ah worthy Borrill here's a goodly song now by my belt I neuer heard a worse Olde doting foole for shame hold thou thy tongue I would thy clap were shut vp in my purse It is thy life if thou mayst scolde and braule Yet in thy words there is no wit at all And for that wrong which thou to loue hast done I will aueng me at this present time And in such forte as now thou hast begonne I will repeat a carowlet in rime Where Borrill I vnto thy teeth will proue That all my good consisteth in my loue Borrill Come on good Batte I pray thee let vs heare Much will be sayd and neuer a vvhit the near Batte Loue is the heauens fayre aspect loue is the glorie of the earth Loue only doth our liues direct loue is our guyder from our birth Loue taught my thoughts at first to flie loue taught mme eyes the way to loue Loue raysed my conceit so hie loue framd my hand his arte to proue Loue taught my Muse her perfect skill loue gaue me first to Poesies Loue is the Soueraigne of my will loue bound me first to loyalty Loue was the first that fram'd my speech loue was the first that gaue me grace Loue is my life and fortunes leech loue made the vertuous giue me place Loue is the end of my desire loue is the loadstarre of my loue Loue makes my selfe my selfe admire loue seated my delights aboue Loue placed honor in my brest loue made me learnings fauoret Loue made me liked of the best loue first my minde on vertue set Loue is my life life is my loue loue is my whole felicity Loue is my sweete sweete is my loue I am in loue and loue in me Borrill Is loue in thee alas poore sillie lad thou neuer couldst haue lodg'd a worser guest For where he rules no reason can be had so is he still sworne enemie to rest It pitties me to thinke thy springing yeares Should still be spent with woes with sighes with teares Batte Gramercy Borrill for thy company for all thy iestes and all thy merrie Bourds I still shall long vntill I be with thee because I find some wisdome in thy words But I will watch the next time thou doost ward heard And sing thee such a lay of loue as neuer shepheard THE EIGHTH EGLOG. Good Gorbo of the golden world and Saturns raigne doth tell And afterward doth make reporte of bonnie Dovvsabell Motto SHepheard why creepe we in this lowly vaine as though our muse no store at all affordes Whilst others vaunt it with the frolicke swayne and strut the stage with reperfumed wordes See how these yonkers raue it out in rime who make a traffique of their rarest wits And in Bellonas buskin tread it fine like Bacchus priests raging in franticke fits Those mirtle Groues decay'd done growe againe their rootes refresht with Heliconas spring Whose pleasant shade inuites the homely swayne to sit him dovvne and heare the Muses sing Then if thy Muse hath spent her wonted zeale with Iuie twist thy temples shall be crownd Or