Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	child_n	good_a	great_a	1,689	5	2.6988	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A12226	Syr P.S. His Astrophel and Stella Wherein the excellence of sweete poesie is concluded. To the end of which are added, sundry other rare sonnets of diuers noble men and gentlemen.; Astrophel and Stella	Sidney, Philip, Sir, 1554-1586.; Newman, Thomas, fl. 1587-1598. aut; Nash, Thomas, 1567-1601. aut; Daniel, Samuel, 1562-1619. aut	1591 (1591)	STC 22536; ESTC S102409	44,257	100

you they moddels be Moddels such be wood globes of glistering skyes Deare therefore be not iealous ouer me If you heare that they seeme my heart to moue Not them no no but you in them I loue BE your wordes made good sir of Indian ware That you allowe them mee by so small rate Or do you the Caconians imitate Or do you meane my tender eares to spare That to my questions you so totall are When I demaund of Phoenix Stellaes state You saie forsooth you left her well too late O God thinke you that satisfies my care I would know whether shee did sit or walke How cloathd how waited on sighd shee or smilde VVhereof with whome how often did shee talke VVith what pastimes times iorneys shee be guild If her lips daine to sweeten my poore name Saie all and all well said saie still the same O Fate or fault O curst child of my blisse VVhat sobs can giue wordes grace my griefe to show VVhat inke is black enough to paint my woe Through mee wretch mee euen Stella vexed is Yet Trueth if Caitiues brath might call thee his VVitnes with mee that I foole stumbling fell For carelesnes did in no manner growe But wit confusd with too much care did misse And do I then my selfe this vaine scuse giue I do sweete Loue and knowe this harmed thee The world quit mee shal I my selfe forgiue Onely with paines thy paines thus eased be That all thy hurtes in my hearts wracke I reed I crye thy sighs my deare thy teares I bleed GReefe find the words for thou hast made my vaine So darke with mistie vapours which arise From out thy heauie mould that euen mine eyes Can scarce discerne the shape of mine owne paine Do thou then for thou canst do thou complaine For my poore soule which wit that sicknes tries VVhich euen to sense sense of it selfe denies Though harbengers of death and of his traine The execution of my fate forbeares As of a Caitife not vouchsaft to die Yet shewe thy hate of life in liuing teares That though in wretchednes thy life doth lie Thou maist more wretched be than nature beares As being plast in such a wretch as I. YEt sighes deare sighes indeede true friends you are That do not leaue your best friend at the wurst But as you with my brest I oft haue nurst So gratefull now you wait vpon my care Faint coward Ioye no longer tarrie dare Seeing hope did yeeld when this woe strake him first Delight exclaims is for my fault curst Although my mate in Armes himselfe he sware Nay Sorrow in as great a rage as hee Kills his owne children Teares finding that they By Loue were made apt to consort with mee Onely true Sighes you do not go away Thank may you haue for such a thankfull part Thank worthiest yet when you shall breake my heart THough with good cause thou lik'st so well the night Since kind or chaunce giues both one libertie Both sadly blacke both blackly darkned be Night bard from Sunne thou from thine own Sunnes light Silence in both displaies his sullen might Slowe Heauens in both do hold the one degree That full of doubts thou of perplexitie Thy teares expresse nights natiue moysture right In both a wofull solitarines In night of Spirits the gastly power sturr And in our sprites are Spirits gastlines But but alas nights sights the ods hath furr For that at length inuites vs to some rest Thou though still tyr'd yet still dost it detest DIan that faine would cheare her friend the Night Doth shewe her oft at full her fairest face Bringing with her those starrie Nymphs whose chace From heauenly standing hurts eche mortall wight But ah poore Night in loue with Phoebus light And endlesly dispairing of his grace Her selfe to shewe no other ioy hath place Sylent and sad in moorning weeds doth dight Euen so alas a Ladie Dians peere VVith choise delight and rarest company VVould faine driue clouds from out my heauie cheere But woe is mee though ioy her selfe were shee Shee could not shewe my blind braine waies of ioy While I dispaire my Sunnes light to enioy AH bed the feeld where ioyes peace some do see The feeld where al my thoughts to war be traind How is thy grace by my strange fortune staind How thy low shrowdes by my sighs stormed be With sweet soft shades thou oft inuitest mee To steale some rest but wretch I am constrained Spurd with Loues spurr this held shortly rained With Cares hard hand to turne and tosse in thee VVhile the black horrors of the silent night Paint VVoes black face so liuely in my sight That tedious leasure markes eche wrinckled line But when Aurora leades out Phoebus daunce Mine eyes then onely winke for spite perchaunce That wormes should haue their Sunne I want mine WHen farre spent night perswades each mortal eie To whome nor Art nor Nature graunted light To laye his then marke wanting shaftes of sight Clos'd with their quiuers in Sleeps armorie VVith windowes ope then most my heart doth lye Viewing the shape of darknes and delight And takes that sad hue with which inward might Of his mazde powres he keepes iust harmony But when birds chirpe aire and sweete aire which is Mornes messenger with rose enameld skyes Calls each wight to salute the heauen of blisse Intombd of lids then buried are mine eies Forst by their Lord who is ashamd to find Such light in sense with such a darkned mind OH teares no teares but shoures from beauties skies Making those Lilies and those Roses growe VVhich aie most faire now fairer needs must show VVhile grateful pitty Beauty beautifies Oh minded sighs that from that breast doe rise VVhose pants doe make vnspilling Creame to slow VVinged with woes breath so doth Zephire blow As might refresh the hel where my soule fries Oh plaints conseru'd in such a sugred phrase That eloquence enuies and yet doth praise VVhile sightd out words a perfect musicke giue Such teares sighs plaints no sorrow is but ioy Or if such heauenly sighs must proue annoy All mirth farewel let me in sorrow liue STella is sicke and in that sick-bed lyes Sweetenes that breathes and pants as oft as she And Grace sicke too such fine conclusions tries That Sicknes brings it selfe best grac'd to bee Beautie is sicke but sicke in such faire guise That in that palenes Beauties white we see And Ioy which is vnseuer'd from those eyes Stella now learnes strange case to weepe with me Loue moues thy paine and like a faithful page As thy looks sturre runs vp and downe to make All folkes prest at thy wil thy paine to swage Nature with care seeks for hir darlings sake Knowing worlds passe ere she enough can finde Of such heauen stuffe to cloath so heauenly minde WHere be those Roses which so sweetned earst our eies VVhere be those red cheekes which fair increase did frame No hight of honor in the kindly badge of shame

of Night Or for some braue within that Chamber hie They shold still daunce to please a gazers sight For me I nature euery deale doe know And know great causes great effects procure And know those bodies high raigne on the low And if these rules did fall proofe makes me sure Who oft bewraies my after following case By onely those two starres in Stellas face BEcause I oft in darke abstracted guise Seeme most alone in greatest company With dearth of words and aunswers quite awry To them that would make naked speech arise They deeme and of their doome the rumor flies That poyson foule of bubling pride doth lie So in my swelling brest that onely I Faune on my selfe all others doe dispise Yet pride I thinke doth not my soule possesse Which lookes too oft in this vnflattering glasse But one worse fault ambition I confesse That makes me oft my best freendes ouer-passe Vnseene vnheard while thought to highest place Bends all his powers euen vnto Stellas grace YOu that with allegories curious frame Of others children changlings vse to make With me those paines for God-sake doe not take I list not dig so deepe for brasen fame When I see Stella I doe meane the same Princesse of beautie for whose onely sake The raynes of loue I loue though neuer slake And ioy therin though Nations count it shame I begge no subiect to vse eloquence Nor hidden waies to guide Philosophie Looke at my hands for no such quintessence But know that I in pure simplicitie Breathe out the flames which burne within my hart Loue onely leading me into this arte LIke some weake Lords neighbours by mighty kings To keepe themselues and their chiefe Citties free Doe easily yeelde that all theyr coast may be Readie to serue their Campe of needfull things So Stellas hart finding what power Loue brings To keepe it selfe in life and libertie Doth willing graunt that in the Frontire he Vse all to helpe his other conquerings And thus her hart escapes but thus her eyes Serue him with shot her lips his Herralds are Her brests his Tents legges his tryumphall Chare Herselfe his foode her skin his Armor braue But for because my chiefest prospect lyes Vpon the coast I am giuen vp for a slaue WHether the Turkish new Moone minded be To fill her hornes vppon the Christian coast How Polands King mindes without leaue of hoast To warme with ill made fire cold Musconie If French can yet three parts in one agree What now the Dutch in their full diets boast How Holland harts now so good Townes are lost Wherewith my Father made it once halfe tame If in the Scottish Court be weltering yet These questions busie wits to me do frame I combered with good manners aunswere doe But know not how for still I thinke on you WIth how sad steps ô Moone thou clim'st the skyes How silently and with how meane a face What may it be that euen in heauenly place That busie Archer his sharpe Arrowes tryes Sure if that long with loue acquainted eyes Can iudge of loue thou feelst of Louers case I reade within thy lookes thy languisht grace To mee that feele the like my state discries Then euen of fellowship ô Moone tell me Is constant loue deemde there but want of wit Are beauties there as proude as heere there be Doe they aboue loue to be lou'd and yet Those Louers scorne whom that loue doth possesse Doe they call vertue there vngratefulnesse MOrpheus the liuely sonne of deadlie Sleepe Witnes of life to them that liuing die A Prophet oft of hidden mysterie A Poet eake as humors flye and creepe Since thou in me so sure a hold doost keepe That neuer I with clos'd vp sence doe lye But by thy worke my Stella I discry Teaching blind eyes both how to smile and weepe Vouchsafe of all acquaintance this to tell Whence hast thou Iuorie Rubies Pearle and Golde To shew her skin lips teeth and head so well Foole aunswers he no Indes such treasures hold But from thy hart while my Sire charmeth thee Sweete Stellas Image I doe steale to me I Might vnhappy word woe me I might And then would not or could not see my blisse Tyll now wrapt in a most infernall Night I finde how heauenly day wretch did I misse Hart rent thy selfe thou doost thy selfe but right No louely Paris made thy Helen his No force no fraude robd thee of thy delight No Fortune of thy fortune Author is But to my selfe my selfe did giue the blow While too much wit forsooth so troubled me That I respects for both our sakes must showe And could I not by rysing morne fore-see How faire a day was neere ô punisht eyes That I had beene more foolish or more wise COme let me write and to what end to ease A burthened hart how can words ease which are The glasses of thy daily vexing care Oh cruell fights well pictured forth doe please Art not asham'd to publish thy disease Nay that may breede my fame it is so rare But will not wise men thinke thy words fonde ware Then be they close and they shall none displease What idler thing than speake and not be heard What harder thing than smart and not to speake Peace foolish wit with wit my wit is marde Thus write I while I doubt to write and wreake My harmes in ynkes poore losse perhaps some finde Stellas great power that so confus'd my minde WHat may words say or what may words not say Where truth it selfe must speake like flattery Within what boundes can one his lyking stay Where Nature doth with excellence agree What Nestors counsell can my flames allay Since Reasons selfe doth blow the coles to me And ah what hope that hope should once see day Where Cupid is sworne page to Chastitie Honour is honoured that thou dost possesse Him as thy slaue and now long needie Fame Doth euen grow rich meaning my Stellas name Wit learnes in thee perfection to expresse Not thou by praise but praise in thee is raised It is a praise to praise where thou art praysed STella whence doth these newe assaults arise A conquerd yeelding ransackt hart to win Whereto long since through my long battred eyes Whole Armies of thy beauties entred in And there long since Loue thy Lieuetenant lyes My forces raz'd thy banners rais'd within Of conquest what doe these effects suffise But wilt new warre vppon thine owne begin With so sweet voyce and by sweet nature so In sweetest strength so sweetly skild withall In all sweet stratagems sweete Arte can shew That not my soule which at thy foote did fall Long sithence forst by thy beames but stone nor tree By sences priuiledge can scape from thee THus night while sleepe begins with heauie wings To close mine eyes and that my troubled thought Doth fall to stray and my chiefe powers are brought To leaue the scepter of all subiect things The first that straight my fancies errour brings Vnto my

want of inward tutch And sure at length stolne goods doe come to light But if both for your loue and skill you name You seeke to nurse at fullest brest of Fame Stella behold and then begin to write IN nature apt to like when I did see Beauties which were of many Carrects fine My boyling spirits did thether then incline And Loue I thought that I was full of thee But finding not those restles flames in me Which others said did make theyr soules to pyne I thought those babes of some pins hurt did whine By my loue iudging what loues pains might be But while I thus with this young Lyon plaid Myne eyes shall I say curst or blest beheld Stella now she is nam'de neede more be sayd In her sight I a lesson new haue speld I now haue learnd loue right and learnd euen so As they that beeing poysoned poyson know HIs mother deere Cupid offended late Because that Mars grew slacker in her loue With pricking shot he did not throughly moue To keepe the place of their first louing state The boy refusde for feare of Marses hate Who thretned stripes if he his wrath did proue But she in chafe him from her lappe did shoue Broke bowe broke shaftes where Cupid weeping sate Till that his Grandam Nature pittying it Of Stellas browes made him two better bowes And in her eyes of arrowes infinit O how for ioye he leapes ô how he crowes And straight therewith like wagges new got to play Falls to shrewde turnes and I was in his way WIth what strange checkes I in my selfe am shent When into Reasons Audit I doe goe And by such counts my selfe a Banckerowt know Of all those goods which heauen to me hath lent Vnable quite to pay euen Natures rent Which vnto it by birth-right I doe owe And which is worse no good excuse can showe But that my wealth I haue most idly spent My wit doth waste my knowledge bringes forth toyes My wit doth striue those passions to defende With my rewarde the spoile of vaine annoyes I see my course to loose my selfe doth bende I see and yet no greater sorrowe take Than that I loose no more for Stellas sake ON Cupids bowe how are my hart strings bent That see my wracke and yet imbrace the same When most I glory then I feele most shame I willing run yet when I runne repent My best wittes still their owne disgrace inuent My verie yncke turnes straight to Stellas name And yet my wordes as them my penne doth frame For though she passe all things yet what is all That vnto me that fare like him that both Lookes to the skyes and in a ditch doth fall O let me proue my mind yet in his grouth And not in nature for best fruites vnfit Scholler saith Loue bend hitherward thy wit FLy flye my friendes I haue my deathes wound flye See there that boy that murthering boy I say Who like a thiefe hid in a bush doth lye Tyll blooddy bullet get him wrongfull pray So tyrant he no fitter place could spy Nor so farre leuell in so secrete stay As that sweete blacke which walles thy heauenly eye There he himselfe with his shot close doth laye Poore passenger passe now thereby I did And staid to see the prospect of the place While that black hue from me the bad guest hid But straight I saw motions of lightnings grace And there discried the glisterings of his dart But ere I could flie thence it pearst my hart YOur words my freends me causelesly doe blame My young minde marde whō Loue doth menace so That my owne writings like bad seruants shew My wits quick in vaine thoughts in vertue lame That Plato I haue reade for nought but if he tame Such coltish yeeres that to my birth I owe Nobler desires least els that to my foe Great expectation were a trayne of shame For since mad Mars great promise made to me If now the May or my yeeres much decline What can be hop'd my haruest time will be Well said your wit in vertues golden myne Digs deepe with learnings spade now tell me this Hath this world ought so faire as Stella is IN highest way of heauen the Sunne did ride Progressing from fayre Twynns in golden place Hauing no maske of Clowdes before his face But streaming forth of his heate in chiefest pride When some faire Ladies by hard promise tyde On horsebacke met him in his furious race Yet each prepar'de with Fannes well shading grace From that foes wounds their tender skinnes to hide Stella alone with face vnarmed marcht Either to doe like him as carelesse showne Or carelesse of the welth because her owne Yet were their hid and meaner beauties parcht Her daintiest bare went free the cause was this The Sunne that others burnt did her but kisse THe curious wits seeing dull pensiuenes Bewray it selfe in my long setled eyes When these same fumes of mellancholie rise With idle paines and missing paines doth gesse Some that know how my spring I did adresse Deeme that my Muse some fruite of knowledge plyes Others because the Prince my seruice tryes Thinke that I think State errors to redresse But harder Iudges iudge ambitious rage Scourge of it selfe till clyming slippery place Holds my young braine captiu'd in golden cage O fooles farre otherwise alas the case For all my thoughts haue neither stop nor start But onely Stellas eyes and Stellas hart RIch fooles there be whose base and filthy hart Lyes hatching still the goods wherein they flow Damning themselues to Tantalus his smart Welth breeding want more rich more wretched grow Yet to those fooles heauen doth such wit impart As what their hands doe hold their heads doe know And knowing loue and louing lay apart As scattered things farre from all dangers show But that rich foole whom by blinde Fortunes lot The richest gem of loue and life enioyes And can with foule abuse such beauties blot Let him depriued of sweet but vnfelt ioyes Exilde for aye from those high treasures which He knowes not grow in onely follie rich THE wisest scholler of the wight most wise By Phoebus doome with sugred sentence sayes That vertue if it once meete our eyes Strange flames of loue it in our soules would rayse But for that man with paine this truth discries While he each thing in sences ballance wayes And so nor will nor can behold those skyes Which inward Summe to heroicke minds displaies Vertue of late with vertuous care to stir Loue of himselfe take Stellas shape that hee To mortall eyes might sweetly shine in her It is most true for since I did her see Vertues great beautie in her face I proue And finde defect for I doe burne in loue THough duskie wits doe scorne Astrologie And fooles can thinke those lampes of purest light Whose number waies greatnes eternitie Promising wondrous wonders to inuite To haue for no cause birth-right in the skyes But for to spangle the blacke weedes