Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	aaron_n	king_n	part_n	24	3	4.0668	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A79960	Monumentum Regale or a tombe, erected for that incomparable and glorious monarch, Charles the First, King of Great Britane, France and Ireland, &c. In select elegies, epitaphs, and poems.	Cleveland, John, 1613-1658.	1649 (1649)	Wing C4681; Thomason E1217_5; ESTC R208852	19,792	48

a Perpendicular The Thread His Wisdome was Humility the Lead By which he measur'd Men and Things took aim At actions crooked and at actions plain He and all from him into Cubes did fall And yet as perfect as the Circle all 'T was He took Nature's Bredth Depth and Hight Knew the just difference 'twixt Wrong and Right He saw the points of things could justly hit What must be done what may what 's just what fit As if like Moses he had had resort Unto Gods Councell ere he was of 's Court. Hence his Religion was his choice not Fate Rul'd by Gods Word not Interest of State Others may thank their stars He his inquest Who sounding all sides anchor'd in the best His Crown contain'd a Miter He did twist Moses and Aaron King and Casuist When the Mahumetan or Pope shall look On his Soul's best Interpreter his Book His Book his Life his Death will henceforth be The Church of England's best Apologie Thus Dove and Serpent kiss'd as if they meant To render him as wise so innocent His own good Genius knew not whether were His Heart more single or his Head more clear Virtue was his Prerogative and thus Charles rul'd the King before the King rul'd Vs He knew that to command his onely way Was first to teach his Passions to obey And his incessant waiting on God's Throne Gave him such meek reflections on his own That being forc't to censure he exprest A Judges Office with a Mothers breast And when some sturdie violence began T'unsheath his sword unwilling to be drawn He but destroy'd and so soft mercy can The malefactor to preserve the Man Even Hell 's blind Journey-men those Sons of Night Who look on scarlet murder and think 't white Unwillingly confess'd The onely thing Which made him guiltie was That He was King He was Incarnate Justice and 't is said Astraea liv'd in him yet dy'd a Maid We want an Emblem for him Phoebus must Stand still in Libra to speak Charles the Just And yet though he were such that nothing lesse Then Virtue 's mean stretcht to a just Excesse Flew from his Soul He like the Sun was known To see all excellence except his own His Modesty was such that All which He ' Ere spake or thought os's self was Calumny But yet so mixt with state that one might see It made him not lesse Kingly but more free He was not like those Princes whot ' expresse A learned surfeit a sublime excesse Send to dispeople all the Sea of Fish Depopulate the Aire to make one dish Such skilfull ' luxuries as onely serve To make their minds more plentifully sterve Whatever Dainties fill'd his Board by chance His onely constant Dish was a Evagr. l. 1. c. 21. de Monachis quibusdam 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Temperance His Virtue did so limit him his Court Implied his Cloyster and his very sport Was Self-deniall Nay though he were seen So roab'd in purple and so macht t' a Queen As made him glitter like a Noon-day Sun Yet still his Soul wore sackcloth and liv'd Nun. b Evagr. l. 1. c. 13 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Simeon the Stylite in his Pillar pent Might live more strict but not more innocent So wise so just so good so great and all What is' t could set him higher but his fal When he caught up by a Celestiall Train Began his second and more solid Raign How to that Heaven did this Pilot steer Twixt th' Independent and the Presbyter Plac'd in the confines of two shipwracks thus The Greeks are seated 'twixt the Turks and Vs Whom did By zantium free Rome would condemn And freed from Rome they are enslaved by them So plac'd betwixt a Precipice and Wolf There the Aegaean here the Venice gulf What with the rising and the setting Sun By these th' are hated and by those undon Thus virtues hemm'd with vices and though either Solicites her consent she yields to neither Nay thus our Saviour to enhance his grief Was hung betwixt a Murderer and a Thief Now Charles as King and as a good King too Being Christs adopted self was both to do And suffer like him both to live and die So much more humble as he was more high Then his own Subjects He was thus to tread In the same footsteps and submit his Head To the same thorns when spit upon and beat To make his Conscience serve for his retreat And overcome by suffering To take up His Saviours Crosse and pledge him in his Cup. Since then our Soveraign by just account Liv'd o're our Saviours Sermon in the Mount And did all Christian Precepts so reduce That 's Life the Doctrine was his Death the Use Posterity will say he should have dy'd No other Death then by being Crucifi'd And their renownedst Epocha will be Great Charles his Death next Christ's Nativity Thus Treason 's grown most Orthodox who since They said they 'd make him the most glorious Prince In all the Christian World 't is plain this way They onely promis'd what they meant to pay For now besides that beatisick Vision Where all desire is lost into fruition The stones they hurled at him with intent To crush his fame have prov'd his monument Their Libels his best Obeliske To have A fit Mausóle were to want a Grave His Scaffold like mount Tabor will in story Become the proudest Theater of Glory Next to the blessed Crosse and thus 't is sense T' affirm him murder'd in his own Defence For though all Hells Artillery and skill Combin'd together to besiege his Will And when their malice could not bring 't about To hurt God's Image they raz'd Adam's out Like men repuls'd whose Choler think 's it witty To burn the Suburbs when they can't the City Howe're they storm'd his walls and draind his blood Which moted round his Soul yet still he stood Defender of the Faith and that which He Found sweeter then revenge his Charity This then the utmost was their rage could do It shew'd him King of his afflictions too Vntempted Virtue is but coldly good As she 's scarce chaste that 's so but in cold blood To scorn base Quarter is the best escape As Lucrece dy'd the chaster for her rape These two did Charles his Virtue most befriend His glorious hardships first and then his end Death we forgive thee and thy Bourreaux too Since what did seem thy rape proves but his due For how could he be said to fall too soon Whose green was mellow whose dawn was noon Since Charles was onely by thy curteous knife Redeemd from this great injury of life To one so lasting that 't is truly said Not He but his mortality is dead To weep his Death 's the treason of our eyes Our Sun did onely set that he might rise But we do mock not cheat our grief and sit Onely at best t' upbraid our selves in wit And want him learnedly such colours do Disguise disasters not delude

dedit aut tribuet moderato hoc principe major In quo vera dei vivénsque eluxit imago Hunc quoniam sceleratacohors violavit acerbas Sacrilego Deus ipse ●etet de Sanguine poenas Contemptúmque sin Simulachri haudlinquet inultum Parodia ex Buchanani Geneth Jacobi sexti AN ELEGIE Vpon KING CHARLES the First Murthered publickly by His Subjects WEre not my Faith boy'd up by sacred bloud It might be drown'd in this prodigious floud Which reasons highest ground doth so exceed It leaves my Soul no Anch'rage but my Creed Where my Faith resting on th' Originall Supports it self in this the Copies fall So while my faith floats on that Bloudy wood My reasons cast away in this Red floud Which ne'r o'reflowes us all Those showers past Made but Land-flouds which did some vallies wast This stroke hath cut the only neck of land Which between us and this Red Sea did stand That covers now our world which cursed lies At once with two of Aegypts prodigies O'recast with darknesse and with bloud o'rerun And justly since our hearts have theirs out-done Th' inchanter led them to a lesse known ill To act his sin then 't was their King to kill Which crime hath widdowed our whole Nation Voided all Formes left but privation In Church and State inverting ev'ry right Brought in Hels State of fire without light No wonder then if all good eyes look red Washing their Loyall hearts from bloud so shed The which deserves each pore should turn an eye To weep out even a bloudy Agony Let nought then passe for Musick but sad cries For Beauty bloud-les cheeks and bloud-shot eyes All colours soil but black all odours have Ill sent but Myrrh incens'd upon this Grave It notes a Jew not to believe us much The cleanerm ade by a Religious touch Of this Dead Body whom to judge to die Seemes the Judaicall impiety To kill the King the Spirit Legion paints His rage with Law the Temple and the Saints But the truth is He fear'd and did repine To be cast out and back into the Swine And the case holds in that the Spirit bends His Malice in this Act against his ends For it is like the sooner hee 'l be sent Out of that body He would still torment Let Christians then use otherwise this bloud Detest the Act yet turn it to their good Thinking how like a King of death He dies We eas'ly may the world and death despise Death had no sting for Him and its sharp arm Onely of all the troop meant Him no harm And so He look'd upon the Axe as one Weapon yet left to guard Him to His Throne In His great Name then may His Subjects cry Death thou art swallowed up in Victory If this our losse a comfort can admit T is that his narrowed Crown was grown unfit For For his enlarged Head since his distress● Had greatned this as it made that the lesse His Crown was falne unto too low a thing For Him who was become so great a King So the same hands enthron'd him in that Crown They had exalted from him not pull'd down And thus Gods Truth by them hath rendred more Then ere mens falshood promis'd to restore Which since by death alone he could attain Was yet exempt from weaknesse and from pain Death was enjoyn'd by God to touch a part Might make His passage quick ne're move His heart Which ev'n expiring was so far from death It seem'd but to command away His breath And thus His Soul of this her triumph proud Broke like a flash of lightning through the cloud Of flesh and bloud and from the highest line Of humane virtue pass'd to be Divine Nor is' t much lesse His virtues to relate Then the high glories of His present state Since both then passe all Acts but of belief Silence may praise the one the other grief And since upon the Diamond no lesse Then Diamonds will serve us to impresse I 'le onely wish that for His Elegie This our Josias had a Jeremie AN ELEGIE On The best of Men And meekest of Martyrs CHARLES the I. c. DOes not the Sun call in his light and Day Like a thin Exhalation melt away Both wrapping up their Beams in Clouds to bee Themselves close Mourners at the Obsequie Of this Great Monarch does his Royall Bloud Which th' Earth late drunk in so profuse a Flood Not shoot through her affrighted wombe make All her Convulsed Arteries to shake So long till all those Hinges that sustain Like Nerves the Frame of Nature shrink again Into a shuffled Chaos Does the Sun Nut suck it from its liquid Mansion And still it into vap'rous Clouds which May Themselves in bearded Meteors display Whose shaggie and dissheveld Beams may bee The Tapers at this black Solemnitie You Seed of Marble in the Wombe accurst Rock'd by some storm or by some Tigresse nurst Fed by some Plague which in blind Mists was hurl● To Strew Infection on the tainted World What Fury charm'd your hands to Act a Deed Tyrants to think on would not weep but bleed And Rocks by Instinct so risent this Fact They 'ld into Springs of easie Tears bee slack'd Say Sons of Tumult since you thought it good Still to keep up the Trade and bath in Blood Your guilty Hands why did you then not State Your slaughters at some cheap and common Rate Your gluttonous and lavish Blades might have Devoted Myriads to one publick Grave And lop'd off Thousands of some base Allay Whilst the same Sexton that enter'd their Clay In the same Urne their Names too might entombe But when on Him you fixt your fatall Doom You gave a Blow to Nature since even all The Stock of Man now bleeds too in his Fall Could not Religion which you oft have made A specious Glosse your black Designs to shade Teach you that we come nearest Heaven when we Are suppled into Acts of Clemencie And Copie out the Deitie agen When we Distill our Mercies upon Men But why do I deplore this Ruine Hee Onely shook off his frail Humanitie And with such Calmnesse fell he seem'd to be Even lesse unmov'd and unconcern'd then we And forc'd us from our Throes of Grief to say Wee only Died He onely liv'd that Day So that his Tombe is now his Throne become T' invest him with the Crown of Martyrdome And Death the Shade of Nature did not shroud His Soul in Mists but its clear Beams uncloud That who a Star in our Meridian shone In Heaven might shine a Constellation AN EPITAPH VVIthin this sacred VAULT doth lie The Quintessence of MAJESTIE Which being Set more Glorious shines The Best of KINGS best of Divines Britains shame and Britains glory Mirrour of Princes complete Story Of ROYALTY One so exact That th' Elixirs of Praise detract These are faint Shadows But t' endure Hee 's drawn to th' Life in 's POVRTRACTVRE If such another PIECE youl 'd see Angels must Limn it out or HEE Where Wisdom Grace and Eloquence Are Centred in their Eminence Martyr'd HEE was to save His Laws Religion People from the Jaws Of ASSASINES whose weal HEE sought Even then when they His MURDER wrought With Horrid Plots that HEADLESS He And in HIM Church and State might be Then since Correlatives They were Three Kingdoms in One KING lies here A. B. FINIS