Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	fruit_n	good_a	tree_n	4,830	5	9.4106	5	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

and stoutest minde Where Fancie rules no wisedome can preuaile Striue not with streame nor saile against the winde For when fine witte hath doen the beste it maie Desire comes in and leads the harte awaie FINIS ¶ Of a vicious woman AS euery lake and puddle seemeth sweete To greedie throts that daiely drinke doe craue So vnto some eche water is full meete To coole their mouths when any thirst thei haue The worst at hande contents their geerie fitte The beste farre of is not desirde a whitte Good reason why a pleasure nere at call Is better sure then that we want at neede When thirst is paste we wishe no drinke at all When honger comes then gladly would we feede The Hauke once fedde with any kinde of meate Her gorge is full Gill will no Partriche eate Yet Beefe is grosse and hard for to endue And carrion Crowes with Phesant is no matche Though all things seru's for Hauks that keeps y ● mew Yet those that flee a better pray can watche Who saies eche drinke thei haue too greate a haste For Crabbs be Crabbs and haue a bitter taste Is Beere and Wine a like in euery cace Or frettyng Salt like Suger any wheat Is Porke at home like Uenson in the chace Is Glasse like Golde or Brasse yet halfe so fear Are little titts like Coursers finely made No no in deede a roile is but a Iade Are Nettle stalks like roddie Roses leaues Maie stinkyng Docks with Gillaflowres compare Is dustie Chaffe like goodlie filled Sheaues Is euill cheere like pleasant sumptuous fare A hongrie baite a cold repaste thei finde That fruite forsaks and feedeth on the rinde Then if there be of worthies many a one That serues their will with drosse where gold is cheape And for a Pearle forsaks a precious stone And takes the worst where worthies are a heape Now let them blushe or frowne to heare my song Theirs is the fault and I haue all the wrong FINIS Of vnsounde freendes THe roote not pure the braunches are infecte The tree vnsounde the fruite and leaues are nought The grounde not good the roote is in suspecte Of euery greef the cause must first be sought For breake the bowes and cleane dispoile the tree The roote lefte whole a greater harme maie bee A sore vnsearcht is seldome salued well As hatred hid is harde to heale without The Doctour seeks where eche disease doeth dwell And gropes the grounde and so a voides the doubt First quenche the cause in flames that doeth remaine The strawe on fire the smoke will rise againe To cutte thy hande when festred is thy foote Or pricke thy arme when all thy hedde is sicke Ye be farre of ye come not nere the roote Then this beleeue ye are not nere the quicke So though the sworde the simple putts to sacke The shippe you haue and yet the sterne you lacke FINIS A matter of fonde Cupid and vain Venus IN Peascod time whē hound to horne giu's eate til Buck be kilde And little laddes with pipes of corne sat keepyng beastes a filde I went to gather strawberies tho by woodes groues full faire And parchte my face with Phebus so in walkyng in the aire That doune I laied me by a streame with bowes all ouer clad And there I meate the straungest dreame that euer yong man had Me thought I sawe eche Christmas game eche reuell all and some And euery thyng that I can name or maie in phansie come The substaunce of the sights I sawe in silence passe thei shall Because I lacke the skill to drawe the order of theim all But Venus shall not passe my penne whose maidens in disdaine Did feede vpon the harts of menne that Cupides bowe had slaine And that blinde boye was all in blood be bathed to the eares And like a conquerour he stood and scorned louers teares I haue quod he more harts at call then Caesar could commaunde And like the Dere I make them fall that runneth ore the lande One droppes doune here an other there in bushes as thei grone I bende a scornefull carelesse eare to heare them make their moue ●he sir quod honest meanyng then thy boyely bragges I heare Whē thou hast woūded many a man as hounts man doeth the deare Becomes it thee to triumphe so thy mother will it not For she had rather breake thy bowe then thou shalt plaie the sot What sausie Marchaunt speaketh now saied Venus in her rage Art thou so blinde thou knowst not howe I gouerne euery age My sonne doeth shoote no shafte in waste to me the boye is bounde He neuer founde a harte so chaste but he had power to wounde Not so faire Goddes quod Freewill in me there is a choise And cause I am of myne owne ill if I in thee reioyse And when I yeeld my self a slaue to thee or to thy sonne Suche recompence I ought not haue if thyngs be rightly done Why foole steppe forthe Delight said whē thou art cōquered thus Then loe dame Lust that wanton maide thy mistresse is iwus And Lust is Cupids darlyng deare behold here where she goes She crepes the milke warme fleshe so nere she hides her vnder cloes Where many priuie thoughts doe dwell a heauen here on yearth For thei haue neuer minde of hell thei thinkes so muche ●n merth Be still good meanyng quod good Sport let Cupid triumph make For sure his kyngdome shalbe shorte if we no pleasure take Faire Beautie and her plaie feers gaie the Uirgines vestall too Shall sitte and with their fingers plaie as Idell people doe If honest Meanyng fall to froune and I good Sporte decaie Then Venus glorie will come doune and thei will pine awaie In deede quod witte this your deuise w t stra●gnes must be wrought And where you see these women niece and looketh to be sought With scoulyng browes their follies checke and so giue thē the figge Let Fancie be no more at becke when Beautie lokes so bigge When Venus heard how thei conspirde to murther women so Me thought in deede the house was fired w t stormes lightnyng tho The thunderbolt through windowes burst in their stepes awight Whiche seemd some soule or sprite a curst so vglie was the sight I charge you Ladies all quod he looke to your selues in haste For if that men so wilfull be and haue their thoughts so chaste And thei can treade on Cupides breast and marche on Venus face Then thei shall slepe in quiet reste when you shall waile your cace With that had Venus all in spite sturde vp the Dames to Ire And Luste fell cold and Beautie white satte babblyng with Desire Whose muttryng words I might not marke mutche whispring there a roes The daie did lower the Sonne waxt darke awaie eche Ladie goes But whether went these angrie flocke our Lorde hymself doeth kno Wherewith full loudely crewe the Cocke and I awaked so A dreame quod I a Dogge it is I take thereon no keepe I gage

pleasures here possest As did this knight of whom I spake who bore about in brest A noble harte a constant mynde a iollie courage greate A warme good will to common wealth that neuer wanted heate Brought vp in armes and Marciall feats a maister of that arte Whiche oft in feeld and countreis cause did plaie a manly parte As birth was good and noble sure so all he went about Was good and worthie eurie waie and noble still throughout In office oft and by his Prince to credite called still In matters graue and thyngs of weight of deepe foresight and skill No talker of good Fortune won nor boster for vaine bruite A tree that seldome blossomde showd yet brought forth good fruite As calme and milde as Sommer winds that neuer water moues And yet as stout to cruell Rites as gentill with the Doues A bodie apte to beare the brunt of paines and labour long A hedde that could conceiue the beste and sone could put vp wrong A freende that vsde no fained phrase and surely one of those That dealt with parfite plainnesse so he neuer purchaste fose A settled rocke a staied trothe that no deuice could staine A Paulet yea a piller too where Paulet did remaine An aide to sutche as wanted helpe a father free and franke To those that onely for good tourns but barely yeelded thanke What resteth more in any man then was in hym I saie Thus Paulet wan a noble brute and bore the same awaie Where vertue at the dreadfull howre when trompet sounds a loude Emong the cheef and chosen Lambes shall sit in sacred cloude FINIS ¶ Sir VVillyam Courtneis Epitaphe BY death eche life is knowen as darkenesse tries out light By life is man made like the Gods where life is ledde a right Whiles Courtneis life did laste his glorie hid remainde But now he hath sutche rare renowne as fewe or none attainde The worlde setts forthe his fame in sutche a liuely sorte That to the Angells eares aboue is blowen thereof reporte Whiche newes is lickte so well the heauens holde them bleste Whē God shall bid vnlocke the gates embrace this newe come gest But though the heauens ioye the yearth with teares is filde And kinde hath cause to curse her self that suche a tree hath spilde By sicknesse sent in spight to spoile the spraise and all And made grene leaues forsake their bowes ere fruit wer ripe to fall Me thinke I heare hym saie would God had been my chance To hitte on death in open feeld by chardge of enemies Lance. Lament ye Courtlike Lordes a plaie feere loste you haue Sende forthe some sighes a long the seas to sobb vpon his graue That buried is at Hawne with warlike pompe and shotte Whiche range his knell as is the gise alas to sone God wotte Well worthie goe thy waie how many of thy name Are lefte behinde to tread thy stepps and winne but halfe thy fame How should sutche gifts be graft without some power deuine Sutche vertues dwell in one mans breast as harbred were in thine A Courtney by thy name a Courtier kindly borne A perfite peece not painted out a coine vnclippte or worne One of so right a stampe that streight did currant passe In euery place of his repaire where sondrie golds were glasse His face bewraied at first what hope of hym to haue His works performde that tonge brought forth his hand full largely gaue A hedde that ofte had paste dame Prudens mustere books A countnance as his courage was no forsed Lyons looks A harte storehouse of trothe a minde no ire might moue An eare that watcht for well coucht words a grace that gatt mutche loue His liberall Nature shewed full ofte to eche degree Where bountie wants set birthe a side ye can not noble bee Now better kisse his steppes then at his praise to kicke Well maie men roue about his marke but none shall hit the pricke What mournyng makes his wife that sutche a housbande loste His babes his men his neighbours eke and all the Westerne coste Well geasts your Hoste is gone turne horse an other waie The shrine is robbde the saincte is fled where ye were wont to staie The sacred godds receiue emong them where thei are With as muche mirth as maie be made the sprite y t Courtney bare FINIS Sir VVillyam Pickryngrs Epitaphe MY sences slept in rest the quiet couche I take When worlds reporte with hurlyng brute badde sluggishe muse awake And whett the blunted witts on mournyng matter newe A heauie happe a soddaine chance that thousandes ought to rewe What fortune is befalne in worlde ꝙ I of late Is any braunche or member hurte that erst hath serude the state Or is some sproute decaied or tree blowne donne by blast That through mans skill sweate of browes might growe stande ful fast There is ꝙ Fame to me a worthie wight gone hence Now dedde ' that late was quicke and ripe of iudgement wit sence And Pickryng was his name whose mynde was sure so greate The noble browes bare witnesse plain where hāmers still did beate A man that credite wonne by seruice sondrie waies A Tully bothe with penne and tong at proofe moste worthie praies And surely from the Gods the rarest gifts posseste That euer in these drousie daies did lodge in one mans breste Looke not I should rehearse what all his vertues weare But looke amid these worldly happs how he hym self did beare When Fortune turude her face he smothly let it slide The want of will at no tyme could in looks nor life be spide If happe had faunde on hym he changde no chere therefore In equall ballance stoode the weight of chaunces lesse or more As wisedome clockte his cares so stoutnesse staied his minde And custome taught hym how to taste the toiles that here we finde In learned Platoes rules good Pickryng pleasure tooke And shonde the worlde to sort hym self with gladsome golden booke Emong a worlde of men in deede fewe freends he chose Yet with a manly modest meane he could reclaime his foes His port and presence sutche he was for Court full fitte And for his graue and deepe foresight he might in councell sitte The life that here he ledde giues still sufficient light For skilfull heads and scannyng minds to wrest his maners right Now hath he that he sought and dwells aboue in blis Where good mens soulls as worlde thei leaue at length shall meete with his When Fame had told her tale I cald for paper streight And in suche verse as here you reade I put these words of weight FINIS Maister Hampdens Epitaphe GOOd life is knowen through deathes despite and when to graue wee goe Good life steppes forthe of shroudyng sheete and doeth our vertues showe The yearth can claime but fleshe and bones and leaue the reste to fame The heauens lookes but for the soule and worlde retaines good name So somwhat man doeth leaue behinde that shines like lanterne clere Note