Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	faith_n	good_a	love_n	2,550	5	5.7551	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A18760	A pleasaunte laborinth called Churchyardes chance framed on fancies, vttered with verses, and writte[n] to giue solace to euery well disposed mynde: wherein notwithstanding are many heauie epitaphes, sad and sorowfull discourses and sutche a multitude of other honest pastymes for the season (and passages of witte) that the reader therein maie thinke his tyme well bestowed. All whiche workes for the pleasure of the worlde, and recreation of the worthie, are dedicated to the right honourable sir Thomas Bromley knight, lorde Chancelour of Englande.; Churchyardes chance	Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604.	1580 (1580)	STC 5250; ESTC S105045	53,461	90

A grace to winne and purchace freends at vewe and present sight A Toby to his children all yea Iob for happie state A father graue that well bestowd the worldly goods he gate A Iewell to Kilkenie sure when toune besieged was A worthie Burges stoute of harte that could through perills passe Of stature meane of maner milde and sure as I haue hard A verie shadowe of a sainct so shapte in some regard His ende did showe what life he ledd his neighbours doe recorde He was a plant of speciall grace and member of the Lorde Wherefore dere freends y t reads these lines be sure his soule is well And he through Christ doeth triumph still on dreadfull death and hel And sitts as safe in Abrams breast as babe in mothers lappe Moste glad are Adams ofspring all that meets sutche blessed happe FINIS ¶ The Lorde Braies Epitaphe CRie out thou worlde and Court and saie that loste ye haue A better Iewell for his daies then your desarts doe craue But small ye waie the losse of hym and others eke Of whose good nature when ye neede ye are full farre to seeke Whiche maks your plague the more though least ye thinke thereon When ofte ye wishe them here againe that long are dedde and gon As Gold from Lead is knowne sutche diffrence is in deede In men and more vnlike thei are then flowre is vnto weede Lorde Braie declares the same who was so clere a Lampe That fewe or none my iudgement giues are left vs of that stampe So currant for the Court so comely in the felde So right a sparke of Natures moulde hath here been seen but selde His face did full present a manly worthie minde His woords set forthe a further skill then all mens heds could finde His life could none mislike his Nature throughly good His hande more freely gaue awaie then worlde well vnderstood A harte where honour dwelt a corps full trimly knitte A shape as kinde had breath'd hym out a hedde where lackt no witte O Braie thou borest awaie the banner of renowne Let none thinke scorne to followe thee in feeld in court nor toune I take a heauie leaue of thee and so I cease And leaue thee flikeryng in the aire before the God of peace FINIS Sir Ihon Constables Epitaphe IN lookyng through these worldly happs so walkyng where I would And waiyng well with equall paies the weight of yearthly mould I heard a sadd and priuie voice as though some fearfull spreete In hollowe Caue or vaute of stone had spoke from shroudyng sheete It badde me looke to true report that Tymes cheef daughter is And sett a side all fonde affects whiche leads the penne amis Thou hast ꝙ he for fauours sake prais'd some thou didst not knowe I was thy freende wherefore in verse my course of life doe showe These woords pronouncst he silence kept and vanisht so awaie His soule to Skies his fame to worlde his corps to clotts of claie Then to my Muse I gan repaire with harte as cold as stone And so with dolefull verse bewaield the death of good sir Ihon. Who ledde his life in greate renowne and neighbours loue with all And seru'd the state on his owne charge when prince did please to call By Northen broils that bred mutche bale and subiects trothes were tried His great good will to dueties bounds loiall faith was spied He alwaies stoode to rightfull thyngs and would not swaie a wrie To any pointe wherein reproche or losse of name did lye A freende that was not lightly loste and did good tournes bestowe Where cause requirde librall hart through bounties springs should flowe A house he kept of greate expence and daiely at his doore With that good store that God him blest he helpt to feede y ● poore He married twise in noble race and kept a noble traine And freely gaue good seruaunts Farms to recompence their paine He bare to freends sutche perfite loue that to the howre of death He neuer failed any one as long as he had breath He had greate suites and troubles too that many sorrows bryngs Yet ere he died with worship greate he ended all those thyngs He gaue good lands for Scholers weale as was the auncient gies And made an Almes house for the poore in Halsham where he lyes All Holdernesse that knewe hym well doeth misse his presence now So iuste and worthie eurie waie were all his doyngs throw But when the fruite of tree is ripe or men be at the beste Doune doe thei drop at the length in yearth with worms thei rest Yet good mens ghosts do clime the clouds drawes where God in trone Brings chosen lambs to endlesse ioy frō worldly care mone FINIS The phantasticall Monarkes Epitaphe THough Da●t be dedde and Marrot lies in graue And Petrarks sprite bee mounted past our vewe Yet some doe liue that Poets humours haue To keepe old course with vains of verses newe Whose penns are prest to paint out people plaine That els a sleepe in silence should remaine Come poore old man that boare the Monarks name Thyne Epitaphe shall here set forthe thy fame Thy climyng mynde aspierd beyonde the Starrs Thy loftie stile no yearthly titell bore Thy witts would seem to see through peace and warrs Thy tauntyng tong was pleasant sharpe and sore And though thy Pride and pompe was somewhat vaine The Monarcke had a deepe discoursyng braine A lone with freend he could of wonders treate In publike place pronounce a sentence greate No matche for fooles if wisemen were in place No mate at meale to sit with common sort Bothe graue of looks and fatherlike of face Of Iudgement quicke of comely forme and port Moste bent to words on hye and solempne daies Of diet fine and daintie diuerse waies And well disposde if Prince did pleasure take At any mirthe that he poore man could make On gallant robes his greatest glorie stood Yet garments bare could neuer daunt his minde He feard no state nor ●aerd for worldly good Helde eche thyng light as fethers in the winde And still he saied the strong thursts weake to wall When sworde bore swaie the Monarke should haue all The man of might at length shall Monarke bee And greatest strength shall make the feeble flee When straungers came in presence any wheare Straunge was the talke the Monarke vttred than He had a voice could thonder through your eare And speake mutche like a merrie Christmas man But sure small mirthe his matter harped on His forme of life who lists to looke vpon Did shewe some witte though follie fedde his will The man is dedde yet Monarke liueth still FINIS Epitaphes alreadie printed or out of my handes THe Epitaphe of Kyng Henry the eight 1 The Erle of Surries Epitaphe 2 The Lorde Cromwells Epitaphe 3 The Ladie Wentworthes Epitaphe 4 The Lorde Graies of Wilt on his Epitaphe 5 The Lorde Poinynges Epitaphe 6 Maister Audleis the greate Soldiours Epitaphe 7 The worthie

nodd or becke a worlde maie ouerthrowe And still my staiyng staffe did stande by one alone Whose gentill harte is now become as hard as Marble stone To me the cace is sutche the mischeef so is mine When I am worne vnto the bones he letts me starue and pine And letts me sinck or swim or shift by sleight of braine As though my hedde so game some were to set on eury maine Thus freendship feble growes and men can causlesse change And will this daie familiar be and waxe to morne full strange I will goe fishe for Fate through floods and salt sea fome And rather dye on wretched rocks then perishe here at home Emong my chefest freends amid my natiue soile Where neuer earst in any point I suffred blot or foile Where all the worlde maie see I suckt vp many a wrong Where well awaie the ritche maie thinke a poore man liu's to long Where let my truthe be tried I clame no small reward And where if fortune doe me right the prince ought me regard FINIS Verses that were giuen to the Quenes maiestie AS Thonder cracks with horlyng noies ronns ratlyng through the Skies For feare whereof greate flocks of Sheepe to Folde or couert flies Or as the dreadfull Iudges voice of life sharpe sentence giu's And causeth captiu's quake for feare that vnder mercie liu's So hearyng from your highnesse mouth a worde of wōders weight Like hound I clapped doune my eares coutcht in kenell streight And droupyng in this worlds disdain that drounds eche good desart I suckt vp sighes as sorrowe shapt to breake a blistred harte Yet gripyng greef in gronyng brest bred no sutche swellyng sore But salue of sweete contented minde had healed long before Though nere the dongeon of dispaire in darcknesse did I dwell And Caron came with carefull boate to rowe me doune to hell I held my hands to heauen hye where hope and helpe is had And so apeald to hym aboue that heauie minds maie glad Feare not ꝙ he of froward Fate that fast on people fauls Nor shon not for a cottage poore the princely golden hauls In Court thou shalt thy credite seeke for she who scepter beares Shall showe thee fauour when I list and looke vpon thy teares Her iudgement tries the gold frō drosse where doeth vertues bud She frankly speaks and frely giu's and flings forthe worldly good When he that rules the hartes of kyngs had told this tale to me To court I came for cause well knowne and knelyng on my kne At closet dore where Prince doeth passe to praier mildly than I found by words and gracious lookes I was a happie man O blessed be that cherefull browe where Phebus beams did shine And euerlastyng light remaine amid those blessed eyne That like the starrs or Lampe of daie that blaseth broad in Skies Doeth driue darke clouds night awaie whē blostryng blasts arise And as there burns greate gifts of grace in her like candle clere So God vphold her blessed face emong vs many a yere Finis ¶ A rebuke to vaine louers WHy art thou bounde that maiest bee free Shall reason yeeld to ragyng will Is thraldome like to libertee Wilt thou exchange the good for ill Then must thou learne a childishe plaie And of eche smart to taste and proue When lookers on shall iudge and saie Loe this is he that ●●u's by loue Thy witts with thought shall stande at staies Thyne hedde shall haue but heauie rest Thyne eyes shall watche for wanton waies Thy tongue shall showe thy harts request Thyne ears shall heare a thousande naies Thyne hande shall put thy penne to paine But in the ende thou shalt dispraise Thy life so spent for sutche small gaine First cast the care and count the coste And waie what fraude in loue is founde Then after come and make thy boste And showe some cause why thou art bounde When that the wine hath ronne full lowe Thou shalt be glad to drinke the lyes And basse the fleshe full oft I knowe That hath been blowne with many flyes If loue and luste might neuer cope And youth might ronne in measures race Or if long suite might winne sure hope I would lesse blame a louers cace But loue is greate with hotte desire And sweete delite maks youth so fonde That little sparks doe proue greate fire And bryngs free harts to endlesse bonde We se where greate deuotion is The people creepe and kisse the crosse Wherefore I finde lesse faute with this Though fondlyngs gilde a bridells bosse The foole his bable will not change Not for the scepter of a kyng A louers life is nothyng strange For yong men seeks no other thyng FINIS ¶ Of fained frendshippe IN fréends are found a heape of doubts that double dealyng vse A swarme of sutche I could finde out whose crafte I could accuse A face for loue a harte for hate those faunyng freends can beare A tong for trothe a hedde for whiles to fraude the simple eare In humble port is poison packt that plainnesse can not spie Who credits all and can not se where stingyng serpents lye With hastie trust the harmelesse harte is easily hampred in And made beleue it is good Gold that is but Lead and Tin The first deceipt that blears our eyes is fained faithe profest The second trap is gratyng talke that gropes eche strangers brest The third deuice is greetyng words with collours stretched out Whiche bids suspect to feare no snares nor dread no dangers doubt The last and worst is long repaire that crepes in frendshipps lappe And daiely haunt that vnder trust deuiseth many a trappe Loe how false frends can frame a fetche to win their wills w t wiles And sause their sleights with sugred sopps shadoe hurt w t smiles To sarue their lusts are sondrie sorts that practise diuerse kinds Some carry Honie in their mouths venome in their minds Thus where that custome ●ou●leth men in vice and foule abuse No feare of God nor losse of name there maners maie reduce Me thinke the stones within the streete should crie out at this cace And eury one that should them meete should shon their double face FINIS ¶ Verses that weare giuen to a moste mightie personage O Pearlesse Prince if penne had purchast praise My parte was plaied long since on publike stage Sith Leaden worlde disdaines the golden daies With face of Brasse men must go through this age Though Poetts prate like Parret in a cage Poore Tom maie sitte like Crowe vpon a stone And cracke harde Nutts for Almonds sure are gone A Figge for verse and filed gallant stiles Whose romblyng noyes but thonders in the aire For pleasant wordes procures but scorns and smiles Or clokes colde showres in calmie weather faire My spised termes are dround in deepe despaire Yong witts hath ronne old Churchyard out of breath And babblyng bookes hath ridden Rime to death Bothe Prose and Rime doeth goe a beggyng now And Finenesse fraes so sauours