Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	great_a	love_n	love_v	4,041	5	6.5654	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A17454	Alcilia Philoparthens louing folly. To which is added Pigmalions image. With the loue of Amos and Laura. And also epigrammes by Sir I.H. and others. Neuer before imprinted.	I. C.; Chalkhill, John, fl. 1600, attributed name.; Clapham, John, b. 1566, attributed name.; Marston, John, 1575?-1634. Metamorphosis of Pigmalions image. Selections.; Page, Samuel, 1574-1630.; Harington, John, Sir, 1560-1612.	1613 (1613)	STC 4275; ESTC S104856	30,908	102

wit Then manifest his faithfull loue by it Much more then this could I lay to his charge But time would faile to open all at large Let this suffice to shew his bad intent And proue that Loue is cleare and innocent Thus at the length though late he made an end And both of vs did earnestly attend The finall iudgement Reason should award When thus he gan to speake With due regard The matter hath beene heard on eyther side For Iudgement you must longer time abide The cause is waightie and of great import And so she smiling did adiorne the Court Little auail'd it then to argue more So I return'd in worse case then before Loue decyphered LOVE and I are now diuided Conceit by Error was misguided Alcilia hath my loue despised No man loues that is aduised Time at length hath Truth directed Loue hath miss'd what hee expected Yet missing that which long he sought I haue found that I little thought Errors in time may be redrest The shortest follies are the best Loue and Youth are now asunder Reasons glory Natures wonder My thoughts long bound are now inlarg'd My follies pennance is discharg'd Thus Time hath altered my state Repentance neuer comes too late Ah well I finde that Loue is nought But folly and an idle thought The difference is twixt Loue and mee That Loue is blinde and I can see Loue is honie mixt with gall A thraldome free a freedome thrall A bitter sweet a pleasant sowre Got in a yeere lost in an howre A peacefull warre a warlike peace VVhose wealth brings want whose want increase Full long pursuite and little gaine Vncertaine pleasure certaine paine Regard of neyther right nor wrong For short delights repentance long Loue is a sicknesse of the thought Conceit of pleasure dearely bought A restlesse passion of the minde A Labyrinth of errors blinde A sugred poyson faire deceit A baite for fooles a furious heate A chilling cold a wondrous passion Exceeding mans imagination VVhich none can tell in whole nor part But onely he that feeles the smart Loue is sorrow mixt with gladnesse Feare with hope and hope with madnesse Long did I loue but all in vaine I louing was not lou'd againe For which my heart sustain'd much woe It fits not Maides to vse men so Iust deserts are not regarded Neuer loue so ill rewarded But all is lost that is not sought Oft wit proues best that 's dearest bought VVomen were made for mens reliefe To comfort not to cause their griefe VVhere most I merit least I finde No maruell since that Loue is blinde Had she beene kinde as she was faire My case had beene more strange and rare But women loue not by desart Reason in them hath weakest part Then henceforth let them loue that list I will beware of had-I-wist These faults had better beene conceal'd Then to my shame abroad reueal'd Yet though my youth did thus miscarry My harmes may make others more wary Loue is but a youthfull fit And some men say it's signe of wit But he that loues as I haue done To passe the day and see no Sunne Must change his noate and sing Erraui Or else may chance to cry Peccaui The longest day must haue his night Reason triumphs in Loues despight I follow now Discretions lore Henceforth to like but loue no more Then gently pardon what is past For Loue drawes onward to his last He walkes they say with wary eye VVhose foote-steps neuer tread awry My Muse a better worke intends And here my Louing-folly ends After long stormes and tempests past I see the Hauen at the last VVhere I must rest my weary Barke And there vnlade my care and carke My paines and trauels long indur'd And all my wounds must there be cur'd Ioyes out of date shall be renew'd To thinke of perils past eschew'd VVhen I shall sit full blithe and iolly And talke of Louers and their folly Then Loue and Folly both adieu Long haue I beene misled by you Folly may new aduentures trie But Reason sayes that Loue must dye Yea dye indeede although it grieue him For my cold heart cannot relieue him Yet for her sake whom I once loued Though all in vaine as Time haue proued I le take the paines if shee consent To write his VVill and Testament Loues last Will and Testament MY spirit I bequeath vnto the ayre My body shall vnto the earth repaire My burning brond vnto the Prince of hell T' increase mens paines that there in darknes dwell For well I weene aboue nor vnderground A greater paine then that may not be found My sweet conceits of pleasure and delight To Erebus and to eternall night My sighs my teares my passions and laments Distrust despaire all these my hourely rents With other plagues that Louers mindes inthrall Vnto Obliuion I bequeath them all My broken Bow and Shafts I giue to Reason My cruelties my sleights and forged treason To women-kinde and to their seede for aye To wreake their spight and work poore mens decay Reseruing onely for Alcilia's part Small kindnesse and lesse care of Louers smart For shee is from the vulgar sort excepted And had shee Philoparthens loue respected Requiting it with like affection She might haue had the praise of all perfection This done if I haue any faith or troth To Philoparthen I assigne them both For vnto him of right they doe belong Who truely louing suffred too much wrong Time shall be sole Executor of my Will Who may these things in order due fulfill To warrant this my Testament for good I haue subscrib'd it with my dying bloud And so hee dy'd that all this bale had bred And yet my heart misdoubts hee is not dead For sure I feare should I Alcilia spie She might eftsoones reuiue him with her eye Such power diuine remaineth in her sight To make him liue againe in Deaths despight The Sonnets following were written by the Author after he beganne to decline from his passionate affection and in them he seemeth to please himselfe with describing the vanitie of LOVE the frailtie of Beautie and the sower fruits of Repentance I. NOw haue I spun the web of my owne woes And labour'd long to purchase my owne losse Too late I see I was beguil'd with showes And that which once seem'd gold now proues but drosse Thus am I both of help and hope bereaued He neuer tryed that neuer was deceiued II. Once did I loue but more then once repent When vintage came my grapes were sower or rotten Long time in griefe and pensiue thoughts I spent And all for that which Time hath made forgotten O strange effects of Time which once being lost Makes men secure of that they loued most III. Thus haue I long in th' ayre of error houer'd And runne my ship vpon Repentance shelfe Truth hath the vale of Ignorance vncouer'd And made me see and seeing know my selfe Of former follies now I must repent And count this worke part of my

such a fauour Of her to whom his thoughts were bound vnto If she in recompence of his loues labour VVould daine to let one payre of sheetes containe The willing bodies of those louing twaine XXXV Could he oh could he when that each to eyther Did yeeld kinde kissing and more kinde imbracing Could he when that they felt and clipt together And might inioy the life of dallying Could he abstaine midst such a wanton sporting From doing that which is not fit reporting XXXVI VVhat would he doe when that her softest skinne Saluted his with a delightfull kisse VVhen all things fit for loues sweet pleasuring Inuited him to reape a Louers blisse VVhat he would doe the selfe-same action VVas not neglected by Pigmalion XXXVII For when he found that life had tooke his seate VVithin the brest of his kinde beauteous Loue VVhen that he found that warmth and wished heat VVhich might a Saint and coldest spirit moue Then armes eyes hands tongue lips and wanton thigh VVere willing agents in Loues luxurie XXXVIII VVho knowes not what ensues O pardon me Yee gaping eares that swallow vp my lines Expect no more Peace idle Poesie Be not obsceane though wanton in thy rimes And chaster thoughts pardon if I doe trip Or if some loose lines from my penne doe slip XXXIX Let this suffice that that same happy night So gracious were the Gods of Marriage Mid'st all their pleasing and long wish'd delight Paphus was got of whom in after age Cyrus was Paphos call'd and euermore Those Ilanders doe Venus name adore FINIS THE LOVE OF AMOS AND LAVRA Written by S. P. VIRESCIT VULNERA VERITAS TC LONDON Printed for Richard Hawkins dwelling in Chancery-Lane neere Sarieants-Inne 1613. TO MY APPROVED AND MVCH RESPECTED FRIEND 〈…〉 W TO thee thou more then thrice beloued friend I too vnworthie of so great a blisse These harsh tun'd lines I he●e to thee commend Thou being cause it is now as it is For hadst thou held thy tongue by silence might These had bene buried in obliuions night If they were pleasing I would call them thine And disavow my title to the verse But being bad I needs must call them mine No ill thing can be clothed in thy verse Accept them then and where I haue offended Rase thou it out and let it be amended S. P. THE AVTHOR TO HIS BOOKE GO little booke into the largest world And blase the chastnes of thy maiden Muse Regardles of all enuie on thee hurld By the vnkindnes that the readers vse And those that enuie thee by scruples letter Bid them take pen in hand and make a better THE LOVE OF Amos and Laura IN the large confines of renowned France There liu'd a Lord whom Fortune did aduance VVho had a Daughter Laura call'd the faire So sweet so proper and so debonaire That strangers tooke her for to be none other Then Venus selfe the God of Loues owne Mother Not farre from thence was scituate a Towne The Lord thereof a man of great renowne VVhom likewise Fortune blessed with a Sonne Amos by name so modest ciuill yong And yet in fight so wondrous and so bold As that therein he passed vncontroul'd So kinde to strangers and so meeke to all Of comely grace and stature somewhat tall As the wide world not two such Impes affords As were the off-springs of these happy Lords Hunting he lou'd and therefore in a morne He shakes off sleepe for case he laughes to scorne Before the sable Curtaines of the East Proclaim'd the Sunnes approach vnto the west Or Tytan Lordly Ruler of the morne Had in his Chariot left the night forlorne Or sounded sleepe to them with whom men say It 's dark some night when we enioy the day He brac'd his Hounds and striding o'er his Steed Hope with a conquest did the youngster feed VVhich done he hyes him to a mighty wood That ioyn'd where Laura's Fathers Pallace stood Thither being come a Bore he rais'd whose pace Did make our hunts-man loose his Hounds in chase Ranging the woods he light into a Groue More pleasant farre then that where Venus stroue To win Adonis to her hearts desire Moued by the burning zeale of sweet Loues fire In this sweet Groue God Pan did keepe his Court And summon'd all the petty Gods resort As Satyres Nymphes and others to the same VVhere all sing prayses vnto Laura's name Into this Groue neare to her chamber side To take the Ayre she comes forth soone espide Of the yong Hunts-man who made haste vnto her And thus the Nouice there beginnes to wooe her Parragon of beauty diuine though earthly creature And yet Celestiall in thy heauenly feature This sodaine courting and vnwelcome sight Made her adde wings to feare and to that flight He following after caught her by the traine That in a rage the Maide turn'd backe againe And did demaund why he without remorse Durst cause her stay against her will by force Mou'd by the rosiate colour of thy face VVherein consists quoth he all heauenly grace I was too bold I must confesse indeede To touch the seluage of thy sacred weede For which my selfe I le punish as thou wilt VVith any paine for my deserued guilt Doe but pronounce the sentence of my death These hands shall be the butchers of my breath But since the merit of my fault 's no deeper Oh let me be thy Prisoner thou my Keeper So shall thine eyes be witnesse of the woe VVhich for my bold offence I le vndergoe Pronounce thy sentence then VVherwith she spake You are your Crafts-man Sir and there she brake Yet turning backe quoth she ô would t were true Your loue were firme to me as mine to you And here she ceased for when he came neare her She was afraid that he would ouer-heare her And art thou so vnwilling then quoth hee To doome the sentence which I aske of thee Perswade thy selfe it is thy purer minde That will not let thy heart proue so vnkinde O would that minde were mine to ioyne thy hart Eyther to end my life or ease my smart Loue is my sute Nor hate is my reply Quoth she Quoth hee I cannot court it I They which but view the error in my lookes May finde I neuer learn'd in Cupids bookes But like a stone rough hewen from the rockes And after polish'd by the Masons knockes The former shewes but base then in compare So to my loue my speech disgraces are For were my speech true patterne of my minde Not as it doth should 't come but farre more kinde Like as the Marchant hearing of a losse Is vvondrous sory for so great a crosse And after heareth by a true report His goods are safely landed in the Fort Cannot expresse the ioy he doth conceiue For why it doth his senses quite bereaue And yet with signe of sorrow blames th' euent Although it seeme most plaine and euident Or like a Ship toss'd by tempestuous weather Now here then there now back againe