Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	death_n	die_v	live_v	2,678	5	5.5283	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A11434	Virtus post funera viuit or, Honour tryumphing over death Being true epitomes of honorable, noble, learned, and hospitable personages. By VVilliam Sampson.; Virtus post funera vivit.	Sampson, William, 1590?-1636.	1636 (1636)	STC 21687; ESTC S110636	32,683	73

Truthes Epitomy here doth lie On that worthy woman CASSANDRA POVVTRELL of Westhallam THough she be gone her goodnes fame and birth Left not a second paragon on Earth T is said the Phoenix into ashes flies And from her flames another Bird doth rise If our Arabian England can affoard From all her borroughes such another Bird Wee le banish forreigne groves ours their shall shame Of thy great worth Religion breeding fame Where are the Muses are they all asleepe Do they their fathers high holiday keepe Have they forgot their nursing mother's gone Which kept a house as free as Helicon Where every thirsty soule might drinke his fill And make him apt for the Castalian quill True knowledge base ingratitude doth shunne When learning growes ingrate the World is done Others their fame and glories gaine by chance But she did never her great birth advance From others names that worth is profitlesse That comes by chance not by vertuousnesse Hers was inherent given her from above Filld with sanctity piety and love Yet I dare boast and will not be denide Shee could say that few women can beside Great Aunt and Mother to so many Sonnes Earles Lords and Knights Vertues companions Honourd Countesses Ladies of great worth Our Herraldries cannot the like bring forth Greater her honour could so closely hide Her noble birth-right free from thought of pride Yet was contented in a pious life With one sole husband thou his onely wife Thy patience as a Land marke still doth stand To be a president to this whole Land Bless'd with so many children yet to see That they should all claime aprecedencie Of place before thee but 't is natures will Death both the younge and ●uld alike doth kill Our persons he respects not natures pay Is what she lent us life at our just day Her coate like vertues was un-alterable A dy that never staind un-coulourable No mortall saw her change eve'n such her life Even such a Maide a VVidow and a VVife Her garments and her faith both were one Vnchangeable in love life Religion Her charity like to the Queene of heaven To needy beggers every houre was given They knew their martes and where thy well might buy Sustenance for their meere necessity ' I was not extended barely at the doore Where they that ask'd receiv'de but to the poore Her neighbours who sicke in bed ost lay Through hunger starv'd almost cast away For lacke of succor thither still went shee While she could goe and ease their miserie Happy Cassandra Happy thrise I say Thy Almse deedes never can be tane away One part thou hast th' other still we have Bless'd in thy Birth thy Cradle Life Death and Grave She had her servants harts her tenants praise And never raisd a rent in all her dayes Remarkable signe of goodnesse this age wantes such Tho'ther way they multiply too much My Muse wantes not rare matter but a pen To crowne her with a Glorious Diadem But that shee needes not for her sacred parts Have stellifide her 'bove the reach of arts Nay I dare bouldly to the world proclaime Her likewill scarse be found on earth againe Her braine a Chronicle her minde a volume Her Vertues a pillar her goodnesse a columne For great ones for to build on if goodnes rest In any of thy sexe 't was in thy brest Shee did not hoorde it there but freely gave To any one that askt wha● they would have True patterne of the blessed so did shee Who 's ever thirsty was might there drinke free Cassandra mournd to see Troyes misery Thy Troy Cassandra now does mourne for thee And yet those honor'd Branches left behinde Will ever imitate thy nobler minde On Mrs. ELIZABETH WOODVVARD Wife of THOMAS WOODVVARD Esquire THy Countries losse and griefe of minde The ●ame mans hands eyes of the blinde The widowes joyes and cure for griefe The Tennants harts-ease and reliefe Thou Growne of women and good dayes The fatherlesse and orphants praise Thou that inspight of death did'st live To praise his name that long did give Thee being think st thou that thy name Though dead is gone no 't is the same It was and ne 〈…〉 shall wa st away Till all dissolves and Time decay Thou mappe of women and good name Sleepe on with Time rest still with fame Thou which most Scriptures had●st by hart Now hast it for thy better part Marble empounded converts to dust Thy memory can never rust Who ' ere thou be that vewes this herse And with a sad eye reads this herse Know underneath this clod doth ly Eliza of bless'd memory Zealous in life happy in daies Worth all mens loves and Angells praise On Sir HENRY SHERLEY of STAVNTON Baronnet buried at Breedon in Leicester shire VVHy who would thinke it say the passers by That underneath this Marbled stone should ly So rich a treasurie can so small Earth Containe a spirit of so great a birth Can such a slender hill keepe in command Him that could tread o're leagues of his own Land Can honour and worship thus be undertrod And throwne as reliques under a poore clod Weake is the greatest Prince and cannot stand The angry darts of deaths commanding hand For he that treades o're Kingdomes of his owne In some few feet of Earth must be trod downe And therefore Sherley 't was in vaine for thee T' oppose the mast●r of a monarchie Let it suffize thy goodnes shall out-live All those inveteracies the world can give Thy love thy learning goodnes merit fame Shall as preservatives live in the name Of thy posterity and may they shine In Saint-like goodnes farre transcending thine That to their fathers name they may gaine praise And centuple their honord mothers dares Thus passenger when thou reflects thine eies Vpon this hill know that here under lies Thrice noble Harrie but all teares are vaine Hee s seated higher then we yet can gaine Waile thou his losse but still say Death is just For Sherley is what all the World once must On that much lamented gentleman Sir HENRY LEIGH of Egginton VVHy droope you Muses have you solely cause To blame the destinies whose fatall lawes Have wrought privation from us tane away Vertues Map like the Meridian day In up-right goodnes I must confesse Great are your griefes mine greater and not lesse Rivers lose course when trilling springs grow dry Life must decay when all our vitalls dy Yet though our bodies fall and spirits passe Our vertues live transparent in the glasse Of our lives steeradge though our losse be great Lend me your aides solemnly to entreat Of your deere losse and mine mine is asmuch And has like Marble a true N●obes touch Three things there are indivisibly plast Which still in order stand first mid'st and last These he was all his parentage goodnes bred A midst he was nobly educated Lastly he was most zealous to his God With lambe-like patience he did beare his rod. Attributing Time tardy 'cause that he No

Country still laments him and doth weepe Since he that was her eie is falne asleepe Staley retaines but his impurer part Heaven hath his soule his best part we in hart On the right Honorable HENRY Lord STANHOT of the North Knight of the Bath Son to the right Honorable PHILIP Earle of Chesterfield and KATHERIN his noble Countesse Anno. 1634. LIves there an eye of Honour did not weepe 'Cause thou so suddenly did'st fall a sleepe Oh yes even Vertues selfe did sadly mone 'Cause thou so suddenly to heaven was gone And yet this Crowne shee sets upon thy head Thy Vertues are alive though thou be dead Who ever knew thee did not waile thy fall Or wept not at thy solemne funerall Such hopes thy Country had such joyes the state And yet to see they both unfortunate Hopes had thy Country of a Patriot The state a Counsellour though new begot Borne Man even from his Cradle yet oh see How sudden vanishes maturitie Just like the Lilly fairest of the field Which does her bravery to th'sickle yield Or like the flower that opens with the Sunne And falls and dies before his course is runne Thus did this noble sprigge of honour fall Even from perfection to a Buriall And yet to say so were detraction Since he is gone hence to perfection For so much goodnes wisedome knowledge arts Such rare endowments and such sacred parts Such gravity as if experience had Invested him and in her robes him clad Such Activenes of body acute wit As if the Muses in his brest did sit And there kept court instructing him all rules And abstruse secrets of their holy schooles Nay what unto him did not they impart Urania had enshrind him in her hart And all these rarities to be complide In one not twenty one before he dide Great pity that a fabricke of this state Should crazy fall and subject be to fate But vaine are teares there 's litle to be sed For each of him is disinherited He had a brother who in 's prime of youth Allmost arriv'de unto his perfect grouth Pale death and time cut off whose most deere losse He did embrace with such a heavinesse That from his day of death unto his owne His Brothers dying day was ever knowne Entombd that day o th' weake in s chamber he Solemnely kept his brothers Obsequie There did his owne true worth his worth confine In meditations siting a Divine Rare presidents of Honor chiesly young What would his age have brought had he liv'd long But he is g●ne and with him went our teares For certainly he now needs not our prayers Yet such rare presidents ought not for to lye Entombd and buried in obscurity His joyes are full and now we may expresse More joy in him then cause of heavinesse He dies not that so dies but lives againe Immortally from anguish griefe or paine On CHARLES STANHOP first brother to the Lord HENERY and third Son to PHILIP Earle of Chesterfield KATHERIN his noble Countesse NO sooner are my Summer blessings come But streight comes Autumne and rough Hyems on Whose rugged browe proclaim 's sadde disasters Nights stormes tempests day-consuming wasters No sooner did our Sunne of comfort shine Nor bright Aurora with her silver shrine After tempestuous daies and dim-eide nights By their fresh beames and rarified lights But newly perfected in comes a storme Allmost as great as that but newly borne Eclipsing our fresh glories and in cares Makes us a fresh for to begin ould teares No sooner was our honourd HENRY gone And our late mourning weeds past putting on Our memory or backs I streightway does come The death of CHARLES that strikes all joyes dumbe Oh thou most sacred Jewell golden Time Thou pretious Jem of Jems thou all divine Thou fleeting shade unsubstantiall thing Thou that art nothing yet of all the King whoo 'd be lavish of thee this president Should make us chary how our Time is spent We may in thee behold how vaine is man In all his actions doe the best he can This goodly slower but yesterday new blowne By Times untimely sythe to day cut downe This goodly Garden in whom searse grew weedes This lovely full-eard corne that ne're lent seedes Fitting a seedenesse is tane from th' earth Before it had maturity or birth This lovely Pine-tree when his Aples shone With rosy cheekes like Phoebus in the Zone Is hewd and falne just in his Prime and growth Even in the early spring time of his youth But Death and Time are Twinns if one cryes on Thought is not swifter then the act is done Death thou art mercilesse and thy rigor such As makes us raile though it availe not much Me thinkes those paire of noblest brothers gone Those that of Vertue had Dominon Might have suffizd thy wrath or if not those Their Vertues might which did all worth enclose All worthes I say that might be thought or found In two so young there could not more abound Of if not those their Mothers showers of tears Which fell like raine sent from the weeping Sphears Who wept in pity too or if not these The new chang'd Virgins prayers might appease No sooner were they ty'd in wed-lockes bandes But thy inveteracies untwines their handes No sooner were those lovely Turtles pairde Scarse of those rites and ordinations sharde Which God for man decreed I streight way thy Ire Sweepes all before thee like Promethean fire Virgins will curse thee ever and forbeare The sacred Jugall wedding Ring to weare And so empoverish nature of her wealth Because thou rak'st up all her joyes by stealth But these cou'd not suffize thee he alone Was the Idea 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 thou doatedst on His brothers like the two great Lampes of light That guilde the heavenly Orbes by day and night So grac'd thy Trophes wonne thee such renowne Without this third thou couldst not winne the Crowne But thou dealtst poorely to insinuate Enseebleing him I nay with the selfe-same fate And cause of sicknes which our Barons killd Killd him high providence must be fullfilld No strugling 'gainst the streame no stopping tide Birthes of this nature mortalls cannot hide The end of our creation was to die Death being the fine of all mortalitie Then cease to waile his losse his soule 's a Je● Fixde in the Sun-rai●s like a Diadem Thrice honoured Lady count not that a losse Which even the Angels cover to engrosse With Davids sorrow mourne him while alive But dead doe not against your knowledge strive The losse of friends more sorrowes doe not get If rightly understood then benefit We sorrow for them when we thinke of Earth But when of Heaven and that most sacred birth We doe rejoyce and their joyes emulate Till we in happinesse possesse like state You have more sonnes and many more may have Leave mourning these then Earth is mankinds Grave On ROBERT POVVTRELL of Westhallam Esquire IF love to knowledge or good partes The Muses friend and true deserts A man enshrind in