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	part_n	time_n	1,743	5	3.4636	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A04153	Sorrovves lenitiue Written vpon occasion of the death of that hopefull and noble young gentleman, Iohn Lord Harrington, Barron of Exton, &c. Who died the 27. of Febr. 1613. By Abraham Iackson.	Jackson, Abraham, 1589-1646?	1614 (1614)	STC 14296; ESTC S121030	7,352	42

SORROVVES LENITIVE Written Vpon occasion of the Death of that hopefull and Noble young Gentleman John Lord Harrington Barron of Exton c. Who died the 27. of Febr. 1613. By ABRAHAM IACKSON OVID. 4. de Ponto Temporis officium solatia dicere certiest Dum dolor in cursu dum petit aeger opem LONDON Printed for Roger Iackson and are to be solde at his Shop neere the great Conduit in Fleet-streete 1614. TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE AND VERTVOVS LADIES THE Lady LVCY Countesse of Bedford and the Lady ANNE HARRINGTON c. Right honble YOur fauourable acceptance of my poore endeauours in an Office of the like nature hath animated mee againe to put Pen to paper with a purpose to lenifie that bitter pill of Passion which naturall affection hath once more caused you to swallow with the sweet iulip of Consolation And for as much as Phisitians cannot well apply their Cordialls to the sicke till they know the syntomes of the disease I haue in a feeling sympathie of your griefe aymed at your Complaints and haue written them according to my conceipt not doubting but if I had beene Secretarie to you afflicted thoughts I should haue made them appeare more like themselues Next as method in that case required I haue set downe such meditations of Comfort as I thought best suting to your visitation Beseeching you to vouchsafe them as gracious a censure as an humble and deuoted heart may be thought worthy to be allowed that rests and euer will remaine Your Honours ready in all humility to doe you seruice ABRAHAM IACKSON SORROVVES LENITIVE When awlesse Death with poyson-pointed dart Had pierc't Fames fauourite yong Harrington That plant of Honour through his gen'rous hart Two mournfull Ladies in affection one His wofull Mother and his Sister deere From troubled thoughts shed torrents christall cleere And as a day-long-labouring Husband-man That with heart-fatting ioy doth feast his eyes To see his full-ear'd Corne with Zephyr's Fanne Blowne on to ripenesse if a storme arise That with sterne blasts destroyes the forward graine Sits downe and wailes the losse of his long paine Or as a Merchant standing on the shore His long absented Ship doth new behold Entring the Hauens mouth full fraught with store Of Orient pearle and purest Indian gold If in his sight the vessell suffer wracke Straines out with cryes till heart with sorrow cracke So did the wofull Lady Harrington When she was reft of him that was her ioy Her loue her life her deere and onely Sonne Her ease in Mourning comfort in annoy Her greatest solace in her most distresse Her curing Cordiall in heauinesse So gracefull Lucy Bedfords worthy Wife When brute too true had to her eares related The sodaine wracke of that beloued life Whom dismall Fate vntimely so had dated Did cast her selfe into the armes of moane And to her selfe rip'd vp her griefes alone And if a Poet may be bold to write How he conceiues such passions were conceiu'd Then thus the grieu'd Lady Mother might With sighes bewaile her hopefull ioy bereau'd These broken accents Eccho's of her groanes Might be the mournfull method of her moanes O thou my dearest deare and louing Childe Best part of me deriued from my wombe The sole Idea of thy Father milde My staffe of age to guide me to my Tombe Art thou extinct hath life forsaken thee Hast thou relinquish'd all the world and me Wert thou not young in prime of flowring life Were not thy passions sway'd with temperance Were not thy humors in perfection rife Wert thou not pious in perseuerance How haps it then that thou wert rap't in hast When but the world began thy worth to cast O art thou gone and am I left behinde Shall neuer more mine eyes behold thee heere Must griefe ore-flowe the measure of my minde vvhil'st houres cōpleat the daies or daies the yeere What sight can please without the sight of thee Whose life was life whose death is death to me O had I all forgone what so is mine Within the compasse of this massie round Except that part of me that is diuine Wherein th' Idea of my God is found So that I had sweet Sonne enioyed thee Who being parted parts all ioy from mee O cruell Parcae now I see t is so Ye are call'd Parcae not because ye spare The liues of such as worst we may forgoe But on the contrary ye Parcae are Because ye plucke the buds with partiall hand And let the riper fruits vngathered stand T is said that Niobe was turn'd to stone For wailing too too much her childrens death Be 't so or no I haue more cause to moane Whil'st soule and body are conioyn'd with breath For her griefe ended with her ended ioy But mine still liues to lengthen lifes annoy Auctolia hearing but a false report Of her Vlisses death that with more Knights Did to the siege of tow'r-built Troy resort To quell the pride of Greece-abusing sprights Renounc'd all ioy turn'd solace into moane Because she did but thinke her Sonne was gone Oh what shall I doe how shall I containe My selfe in sorrow that too well doe know The losse of him that was my ease in paine My greatest comfort in griefes ouer-flowe How shall I keepe from breaking to extreames That haue my heart so fraught with sorrowes theames Let Niobe say what she can deuise To aggrauate her selfe-confounding moane And let Auctolia hers apologize Yet Niobe became a sencelesse stone And Auctole wayl'd a misconceaued feare But true effects of griefe my heart doth weare As would appeare could I Dole's language speake But Sorrow tyes the tongues of grieued weights So that they must in mid-discourses breake And keepe the worst behind to vexe their sprights Sith this is Mourners case then thus in briefe I grieue because I cannot tell my griefe Thus might a Poet shadow what she said Though what she said indeed her selfe best knowes As saying most when she was most dismay'd In priuate sort commenting on her woes Next then we may imagine as before The noble Countesse how she did deplore And if you can conceiue Polixen's woe When her deare brother Troilus was slaine By force of fierce Achilles fatall blowe Or how that royall PRINCES did complaine For Brittains hope renowned HENRIES death So might you think did Bedford spend her breath For thus me seemes her thought-bewraying tong Vtters the passions of her griefe-seaz'd heart That doe in heapes vpon each other throng As though they would her soule and body part O dearest brother soule-vnited friend What timelesse hap wrought thy vntimely end Time turnes the Heauens in a certaine course The Starres doe keepe their constant motions Order directs the rowling Oceans source Sence-wanting creatures keepe their stations Mans fickle state giues onely cause of sorrow That knowes his eue but doth not know his morrow Had I a Sonne to lose as I haue none I thinke his losse could not more grieue my hart Then thus to be left brotherlesse