Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	know_v	let_v	see_v	3,024	5	2.9158	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A04306	Pietas in patrem, or a few teares vpon the lamented death of his most deare, and loving father Richard Barlow late of Langill in VVestmooreland, who dyed December 29. Ann. 1636. By Thomas Barlow Master of Arts, Fellow of Queenes Coll. in Oxon and eldest sonne of his deceased father.	Barlow, Thomas, 1607-1691.	1637 (1637)	STC 1441A; ESTC S114793	7,728	20

of his minde And vertues too be heire that men may ●●e Him still alive in his posterity For while the branches spring while they doe thrive And flourish we doe know the root 's alive From whence they sprung although perhaps it be Deepely inclosed in the earth so we Who have our father lost and in the grave Inclosed him with sorrow yet wee have This happy consolation that he Cannot be wholly dead while 's progenie Survives in health oh may those branches small Which yet remaine after his funerall Be evidence hee lives hee lives may hee Blest in himselfe be so in 's progeny Tho Barlow Apostrophe ad Patrem defunctum REst rest bless'd soule in happinesse and be Secur'd from troubles which mortalitie In this fraile life doth undergoe thy minde Shall those sweet joyes and speculations finde Which doe transcend expression thou shalt know And feele that happinesse which we below Cannot conceive Ther 's that Elysian grove Where crown'd with joyes and honour thou maist rove With Kings and Emperors for ever there No awfull distance is observed where Even all are Kings Can any one be bound To bow to others whereas all are crown'd Heires of a Kingdome where the subjects be Borne unto diadems and majestie Imperiall there even thousands all Are first borne to a Monarchy and shall Each one inherite all strange tenure here And such a Gavel-kind as other where Is quite impossible heires all shall bee Yet no division no posterity Shall e're succeed unto themselves but they Shall be immortall and for ever stay Eternall heires of that blest land no wave Shall their calme sea inrage no they shall have A gentle gale no dusky cloud their spheare Shall e're o'recast there heaven shall be cleare For ever to them that blest Sun shall be Cause of perpetuall serenity Say now poore soule who art affraid to die And tread this way to immortality And happinesse say say who would not have A speedy funerall and wish a grave Where he might sleepe for death doth not annoy But is the happy preface to our joy This way 's my father gone upon the shore Of that blest Canaan now where he no more Shall any teares or troubles finde but be Perpetuall heire of true felicitie Sleepe then blest soule I will not wrong thee soe As wish thee here againe with us in woe Injoy that blisse which we with weary minde And watery eyes may seeke but ne'r shall finde Doe what we can nor may we hope till wee Dismiss'd from earth doe come to heaven and thee Tho Barlow To his worthy friend M r Thomas Barlow sonne of the truly pious and lately deceased Richard Barlow ON whom shall I these blubbered lines bestow But you good Sir where such respect I owe And on you chiefly for your secret woe The burthen of our griefe doth undergoe We but as strangers on the shore lament A common shipwracke you that vessell rent To whom such love and dutie you did owe What wonder if your griefes doe overflow But spare your teares though you have cause to mone Yet to persist in sorrow you have none You see beneath the circuit of the sunne All that 's made best is instantly undone Perhaps the greater is your happinesse Because to you it seemeth to be lesse It 's ill to be too well ease is disease And deadly too in parts that death doth seize Then when in any part of us we joy More then we should lest that might us destroy Heav'n takes it quickly off as 't were by stealth And by the want supplies our want of health Wipe off those teares sing Hallelujahs rather Greive that you lost joy that so good a father So good said I stay muse and that rehearse Here is a subject fitting for thy verse Too good for us with graces so inspir'd Such heavenly mould the Angels long desir'd And therefore they so quickly did transport His Saint-like soule to their celestiall Court. There was no copper in this minerall Not counterfeit nor hypocriticall With friends or strangers he us'd no disguise His words his thoughts his deeds did symbolize No harder yron did his temper marre Malice to none no envie hatred jarre Friendly he was soft milde to all and more Unkind unto himselfe then to the poore So just so wise s'upright in every thing As stopt the venome of foule envies sting A husband deare a father tender kinde Though not in gifts yet in a bounteous minde Exceeding most nay all of his estate A patterne most compleat to imitate For parents all who usually bestow To children that can drive the cart and plow More then to those that set themselves apart By study for to gaine some liberall art More to those that feed sheep or hew a blocke Then those that labour for to feed Christs flocke No disposition such in this rare piece Not land nor corne was spar'd not oxe nor fleece Nor other thing whereby he might advance His sonnes unto a learn'd inheritance Heav'n with successe hath blest his care the same Your selfe though silent doe aloud proclaime With Saints above he liveth blessed now Below in vertuous deedes in 's fame in you Mathew Wilkinson Artium Magist. è Coll. Reginae Vpon the death of his deare and very loving Vnkle Rich Barlow I Cannot weepe in verse one thought of thee Deare friend put 's mee quite past all Poetrie That language suites not well with griefe our cryes Flow not me thinkes from pens so well as eyes No sooner is one word writ but on it Downe fall's a teare and drownes thy name halfe-writ Let such as ne'r did know thee or thy worth Goe make themselves knowne thus and copy forth Their owne names to their Reader who may see Their nimble wit and riming faculty Such merry to yes they best know to bequeath Who have no cause to sorrow for thy death Here then my dumbe-strucke muse begg's silence shee For want of wordes thus weepes an Elegie Hee 's dead Nay say not so oh doe not wound Our eares with that sad tale that killing sound Must by degrees sinke gently into our hearts Speake it not all at once let 's have 't by parts Say hee 's not well stop there let us first trye To heare the Prologue then the Tragedy Tell us not yet hee 's dead or if hee bee Tell 't in a whisper or uncertaintie Wee 'l not beleeve it else wee needes must sticke To thinke him dead till first wee heare hee 's sicke Oh! but it is too true onely wee doe Faigne the report false 'cause we wish it soe It was thy pious policy to steale A close departure Least our prayers and zeale Might have prevail'd with heaven and so have gain'd Thy terme of dayes inlarg'd and thee detain'd From blisse thus thus our too too officious tongue Out of fond kindnesse might have done thee wrong Let us then chide thy goodnesse this was it Tooke thee from us hadst thou not beene more fit For that

PIETAS IN PATREM OR A FEVV TEARES VPON THE LAMENTED DEATH OF HIS MOST DEARE AND LOVING Father RICHARD BARLOW late of Langill in VVestmooreland who dyed December 29. Ann. 1636. By THOMAS BARLOW Master of Arts Fellow of Queenes Coll. in OXON and eldest sonne of his deceased father Sed lachrymae pondera vocis habent OXFORD Printed by VVilliam Turner Ann. Dom. 1637. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Vpon the lamented death of his most deare and loving father Richard Barlow late of Langill in VVestmooreland MY Father dead stay stay report and tell This heavy newes by parcells say the bell Toules for my dearest father say that he Is very sicke yet his recovery Is not impossible pause here untill We have digested this for so it will Make way for more and if it must be soe Say then hee 's dead for by this meanes the woe Divided may be overcome which all At once might cause another funerall And kill us too Such undivided feares Might even overwhelme and drowne with 〈◊〉 teares Us now poore Orphans who can onely say Wee had a father But this kinde delay I could not have for it was my hard fate To heare of 's death in this unfortunate Before his sicknesse So that all the woe Which I could either feare or undergoe Seas'd mee at once that I have cause to be O'rewhelm'd with teares and melt with Elegie Yet pardon this my sorrow thou that heares I lost a father who deserv'd the teares Of more then 's children Such a father hee As many wish though few injoy to mee So deare and tender that I cannot say What gratitude requires much lesse repay Well he is gon and in him we may see Our humane frailty and mortality Death knowes no difference Kings and Subjects have Their periods and Exit in the grave This lif 's a sea wherein we all doe saile Some tos'd with waves some with a gentler gale Come calmely to the shore some finde that sea Which wee Pacifique call yet all must be Hurri'd at last into the fatall waves Of the dead sea and so unto their graves With teares transported For my father he By no untimely dath no cruelty Came to his grave this blessing he did find Where he receiv'd his breath there he resign'd It willingly to heaven nor in the spring And morning of his life nor withering With too much age but in those yeares which he A blessing found and not a misery Thus dy'd my father nay he is not dead Although he be intomb'd and buried Deepe in the grave so that we need not weepe He is but go● and sweetly falne asleepe And will againe awake no good man dyes But as the day-starre sets againe to rise 'T is truth nay 't was impossible that he Should dye in that blest time th' Nativity Of life it selfe ● no no that was an houre Which put a period to all the power Of death and th' grave this did my father see With joy of heart and then desir'd to bee Free'd from those troubles and the many woes Which sinne begets and then did thirst for those Those better joyes And having got release From all those miseries hee went in peace To his long long-desired home where hee Findes sweetest peace and immortalitie Tho. Barlow Vpon my dreame at OXON which was this I being at Oxon and not knowing that my father was either dead or sicke neare about the time he dyed dreamed hee was dead and the impression was so violent that it awoke me and being awake I found that that dreamed-sorrow had caused reall teares which had strangely wet even the pillow where my head lay IT was ' i th' night when the earth 's gloomy shade Involved had our hemisphere and made Deepe silence to the world when did appeare Those many glorious lampes which in that spheare Are firmely fix'd for ever that which we Doe justly call the worlds rich canopie Then in the dead of night when sleepe did close My weary eyes and nature did compose My outward limbes to rest then did I see Strange apparitions and a Tragedie In which my father acted I did joy To see my deare deare father though a toy A dreame did represent him But anon The scene was changed and amid the throng My father was to die it was his fate As I conceiv'd onely to personate And act a funerall onely to die In shew and in a seeming Tragedie But this soone altered and methought I see My dearest father dead cold dead and wee All mourning by him when anon they call Away away come to the funerall And then o'rwhelm'd with woe a thousand feares And griefes possesse my troubled soule and teares Gush from my sleeping eyes not onely dream'd And phansi'd teares but reall such as stream'd From true not fained sorrow though to me The ground was onely dreame and phantasie All this I dream'd and neare about that day Wherein my father entered on his way To bless'd Elysium where for ever he Findes sweetest peace and immortalitie Say now profound Philosopher and you That ferret natures mysteries say how It was but possible my fathers fall Should so possesse my soule how 's funerall Should cause such violence of griefe in me Who neither heard nor saw his obsequie Can things at such a distance move can feares Arise from unknowne danger or can teares Such reall teares spring from a cause so small As bare imagination can all Your speculations this knot unty And give a cause from true Philosophy Or was 't from higher cause those powers divine Which rule the universe who doe untwine The thread of life they visted was 't that I Might really partake in Elegie And teares as well as losse was 't to fulfill At least in part my dying fathers will Who often wish'd me there for thus my heart Was present at his grave and bore a part In that sad funerall no no so high Wee need not goe as sacred extasie Or any raptures to unfold a cause Of this dream'd-reall sorrow when the lawes Of nature will affoord one we doe see In well affected bodies th' misery Of any part affects the whole we know In trees the high'st part suffers if below The root be perished when any paine Torments our head how suddenly each veine Each part partakes in sorrow 'cause from thence As from a fountaine comes that influence Which animates the whole And can hee die Which gave me life and beeing and yet I Be unaffected still unlesse from thence I have a post or some intelligence To say he 's dead oh no it was in mee Natures just law and inbred sympathie Anticipating knowledge caus'd those teares Which did not come from knowne though reall feares Tho Barlow To his most loving Brother R. Barlow upon his Fathers death YOur father 's gone and you are left behinde Heire of his fortunes may you