Selected quad for the lemma: day_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
day_n	fair_a	night_n	wether_n	5,493	5	13.9630	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A09533	The tryumphes of Fraunces Petrarcke, translated out of Italian into English by Henrye Parker knyght, Lorde Morley. The tryumphe of loue. Of chastitie. Of death. Of fame. Of tyme. Of diuinitie; Trionfi. English	Petrarca, Francesco, 1304-1374.; Morley, Henry Parker, Lord, 1476-1556.	1555 (1555)	STC 19811; ESTC S110435	47,644	104

chere People that of loue reasonyng went Dant with beatryce fayre and gent Lo on the tother syde I might also se Cino of Piscoia wyth hym trust me Guydo of Rezzo and in that place Two other Guydos in lyke manner and case The tone of them was borne in boleyne The tother was a very ryght Cicelien Senicio and Francisco so gentle-of condicion And Arnolde and Daniell in lyke facion A great maker and dyuyser of loue And dyd great honour to his Citie aboue There was Peter also the Clerke famouse And Rambaldo with his stile curiouse That wrote for his beatryce in mont ferrato The olde Peter and with hym Geraldo Filile to that in Marsill bare the name And the prayse from Geneway by the same Geffray Rudell that sought his death Alasse vpon the water as he hymselfe dyd passe There was also Wilbon at that houre That in wryting to his Peramoure Passyd many other in his dayes Among these other that of loue sayes Was Amerego Barnardo Hugo and Anselme That in stede of speare shilde and helme Was theyr tounge and theyr fayre speach The loue of theyr Ladyes to besech I turned myne eyes from that companye And streight wyse I dyd there espye The good Thomaso that gate great prayse In Boleyne that citie in hys dayse O fleyng swetenes O paynefull wery lyfe What chaunce hath taken wyth woo and strife These my deare fryndes away from me Why am I not styll in theyr company Well may I perceaue howe feble and frayle Is mans lyfe all full of trauayle Well may I say it is none other thing But as a dreame or a shadowe passyng Or as a fable that when it is tolde The wynde and whether doth it holde Unneth was a lytle past the rule Of the commen lernars in scole When fyrste I dyd Socrates workes se And Lelius howe fayre they dyd agree Wyth these men I entende styll to goo Which I haue named hether vnto As those whose laude no man can well rehearse Neyther in ryme in prose nor yet in verse Wyth these two and dyuerse other in my dayes Haue I searched many dyuers wayes And from these noo man can me deuyde But for alwayes I wyll wyth them abyde Untyll the houre come â–ª that I shall dye For wyth these two gotten yet haue I The gloriouse Laurell wherewith my heade As a garlande all aboute is spredde In memory of her of which I wryte Uerses of prayses as I can endyte But of her which I so much commend For all my seruyce that I do pretend I cannot get neyther boughe nor lefe But payne heauines doloure and grefe And or I wryte the cause why she doth so I wyll wryte of the pensyfe woo That these vnwyse louers haue to loue The thyng is so farre my wytte aboue That for great Omer or for wyse Orpheus It were well mete they shoulde it dyscusse Then in folowing of my golden penne I wyll declare howe I and all these men Folowing this god by Dykes and by Dales With peynes and busines and with many tales This chylde vnto his kyngdome came Where Uenus hys mother was resydent than But so ouerwhart thyder was the wayes By busshes and woodes and other brayes That not one amonge all wyste where he was Nor howe it was wyth hym nor in what case There lyeth beyonde Egeo that grete see A delectable yle to beholde and se Because the sonne softly doth it warme The byrdes there full swetely charme In the myddes of this yle now expressed Is there a mountayne fayre ydressed With fayre flowres and fayre cleare water That it taketh awaye all sadde matter From the hartes of suche as be there This is the lande to Uenus moost dere Wherein the olde auncient men Made to this Uenus a temple then And yet of vertue it is so barrayne I saye That as it was so it is at this daye In that selfe same place tryumpheth this Lorde Of vs and other that he doth bynde in corde Of all nations from Tyle vnto Inde Innumerable of all men one maye fynde This Prynce in token of his great victory That he hath obteyned of louers so gloriouslye Caryeth with hym of poore louers the spoyle To gyue to hys wanton mother in that soyle Fyrst of all the louers thoughtes in his lappe He hath with hym fast closed in a trappe Uanytie embraseth hym and with hym doth go Fugytyue pleasure doth folowe hym also In wynter Roses he caryeth about In Somer yse this great God so stoute Doutefull hope before and behynde Shorte Ioye wauerynge and blynde Penaunce and sorow doth folowe the rest As in Rome and in Troy when it was opprest Thus with a noyse and a huge shoute Redounded the valleye there all aboute With a consent of byrdes fayre and swete And the ryuers that ranne by the strete Were of coloure breifly to endyte Greene blewe redde yalowe and whyte And euer the Ryuars rynnyng in that place When that the tyme of greate heate was Apon the freshe fayre greene flowres To comforte the herbers and the bowres Shadowes softe to kepe the sonne away The wether temperate by nyght and daye The Sonne nether to hoote nor to colde Plenty of deynties eate who woulde And pleasures dyuers to make a symple wytte Haue an olde feble harte for to vse it It was about the Equinoctiall lyne than When the fayre bryght Phebus began To chase the longe wynter nyghtes awaye And prougne laughes early afore daye In that tyme and in that selfe howre This great God of so hyghe powre Woulde tryumphe then and there worshipped be O our vnstable fortune for to se We ne coulde but as this God vs leade Hym to worshyppe se howe we speade What death what sorow woo and payne Hath the louer his purpose to attayne Nowe for to declare this matter by and by This Goddes chayre where that they sat on hye There was about it errour and dreames And glosynge ymages of all nations and realmes False opynion was entrynge the gate And slypper hope stode by theyr ate Wery rest and rest with wo and payne The more hygher he clam the lesse he dyd obtayn Damnable lucre was not wantynge there Nor profitable hurte alwayes in fere Cleare dishonoure and glory obscure and darke False lealtie lefte not there to warke Nor beguyldynge fayth nor furious busynes Nor slowe reason lacked not in the presse A pryson open entre who woulde When he was in gotten oute he ne coulde Within trouble confusion and mysery A sure sorowe a myrth vncertaynly Lyppary nor Ischa nor Uolcan boyls not so Strongile and Mongebell put therto As boyled the place where the castell was And briefly whosoeuer thyther dyd pas Is there bounde in hote and in colde In darkenesse euerlastynge in that holde Holden and tyed and kept by forse Crying for mercy tyll that he be horse In this castell syghynge for Sorga and Arno Was I prysoner many a longe daye so That by my wytte I coulde no meanes fynde

light Had you euer pitie in your harte Of my greate sorowes and paynes smarte Not leauynge aparte your hygh chast wayes Whiche that you vsed with me alwayes Nowe shewynge to me a swete dysdayne Nowe a swete angre to double my payne Nowe shewynge a peax wrytten in your eyes That hylde me so tyed and in suche wyse That doubtfull I was in what case I stoode Many yeares thus I in loue abode Scant had I these wordes to hyr sayde When that I sawe euen at a brayde That swete smylyng and fayre countenaunce That somtyme was my ioye and plesaunce My comforte my lust and my reioysinge In this wise to me moste graciouse speking From the my hart was neuer deuyded Nor neuer shall but that I prouided Dyuers tymes with my wyse regard I tempered thy loue y t well neer thou had marde Because there was as than none other way Oure feruent loue with honest for to stay Therefore in lyke case as thou sest a mother Correcte her deare chylde for no nother But all to brynge her to good frame Euen so dyd I then vse the same And sayde to my selfe full many a season This man not louys but burnes out of reason Wherefore it behoueth me for to prouyde In this hard daungerouse case on euery syde And surely full euyll prouydeth he That loketh outwarde and doth not se What is inwarde in such a peryllous case This in my pitefull harte toke then place And thys to the as a brydell was than As thou seest by a horse reuled by a man Wherefore somtime I shewed me wonders glade Somtyme agayne to be as sober and sadde And yet I loued as hoote and true as you Allwayes sauing the chosen honest dowe Which soo my will than and euer opprest That reason reulde my desyre at the lest And when that agayne I dyd beholde and se Thy sorowe to greuouse and paynefull for to be Swetely and gently on the myne eyes I sett Thy helth and welfayre agayne for to gett Thys was euer my wise honest wayes That I honestly vsed with the in those dayes And when I sawe the teres droppyng auayle Downe thy pale chekes lyke vnto the hayle Then I dyd pray and softly then I sayde Here it is necessarye I geue anone an ayde And when that thou were forthwith agayne Into to much hope my loue for to attayne Anone vnto my selfe euen thus sayde I Here of necessitie must be had a remedye A harde and strayt byt I muste nowe put to Thus with dyuers colours many mo Myth hoote with grene with golde with white I kepte the alwayes styll in honest plyte Thou knowest this well and hast it tolde And in many a swete sonet it encolde When she had sayde these wordes to me playne With tremblyng voyce I sayd to her agayne Your wordes to me should be passyng were For the greate loue and most fetuant here That I haue euer borne my ioy to you If I beleuyde them faythfully to be true O vnfaythfull man then answered she Why shoulde I say these wordes vnto the If that my wordes were not true and iuste Nowe then I tell the disclose my hart I muste If in this world lyuing to my sight I toke in the luste pleasure and delight I kept it secret where thou I say agayne Thy loue to all men dydest make it playne There was no dyfference in our loue at all But that my true loue was ioyned all In moost honest wyse so for to be But nowe one thynge I wyll demaunde of the When that thy swete balettes I dyd synge Dyddest thou then doubte of me in any thynge I thynke playnly nay and therfore thus Though for a tyme I was contrarius By louynge straunge and semyng so to be A thousande tymes thou mayst trust me With my thoughte alwayes so I farde Thou haddest of me an inwarde swete regarde And more thy mynde at that tyme to appease I wyl tell the that thynge that shal the please It greueth me sore that I was not borne By thy fayre citie I saye to the therforne Althoughe my countre full pleasaunt be I woulde my nest had ben nere to the Lest that percase thy mynde shulde chaunge And loue some other amonge so great a raunge To these wordes no worde then I sayd The thyrde celestial speare had so arrayde And lyfte in loue so sore my louynge thought That aunswer hyr at that tyme coulde I nought Then she to me with a benigne loue and chere I haue in this world by the great honour here And shal haue alwaye marke wel what I shal say The nyght is past now commeth the bryght daye Yf that to me thou wylt more saye swete hart Be short I byd the for I must hence departe O sayde I myne owne swete Lady dere For al the sorowe and payne I haue had here In louinge you these wordes so fayre and swete Doth recompence my loue and makes all mete But from you thus for to be seperate playne Is vnto me a deadly mortall payne But one thynge nowe to me you must declare Or that ye from my wofull presence fare Shall I lyue longe tell me after you Or shortly as I woulde O Lady you ensue She aunswered gently as farre as she coulde tell Longe after hyr on earth here should I dwell ¶ The ende of the Tryumphe of Death ❧ The excellent Tryumphe of Fame AFter that deathe had triumphed in that face Which often of me had tryumphed in lyke case And that the sonne of our world was dead and past This ougly and di spytefull beaste at the last Pale and horrible and proude for to se With hyr blacke baner awaye goeth she When that she had extincte our quyte Of perfyt beutye the very clere lyght Then as I dyd loke about on euery part Commyng towardes me there I dyd aduert Hyr that mans lyfe for euer doth saue And pulleth hym out alyue from his graue This gloryous fayre Lady muche lyke was she Unto that bryght starre that goeth trust me In the orient or the cleare day appeare Euen in lyke maner was this Ladyes chere So that there is no mayster in no Scole Can take vpon them to descrybt that Sole That I go aboute with symple wordes to tell So muche great in glory ths Lady dyd excell That all the element about her dyd shyne Not as a mortall but lyke a thyng deuyne Grauen in theyr foreheades were the names Of the honorable people whose hyghe fames By valure and vertue can neuer dye Folowynge this noble fame there sawe I Many of those of whyche I tofore haue rehersed That by loue as sayd is were sore oppressed On her ryght hand there fyrst in my syght Was Cesar and Scipion that honorable knyghte But which of them twayne next to fame was I do not remember but there they both dyd pas The tone in vertue the tother in loue Was taken though he semed somewhat aboue And then forthwith was shewed vnto me After these twayne