Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	age_n	die_v	life_n	4,788	5	4.6294	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A13797	Alba The months minde of a melancholy louer, diuided into three parts: by R.T. Gentleman. Hereunto is added a most excellent pathetical and passionate letter, sent by Duke D'Epernoun, vnto the late French King, Henry the 3. of that name, when he was commanded from the court, and from his royall companie. Translated into English by the foresaid author.	Tofte, Robert, 1561-1620.; Epernon, Jean-Louis de Nogaret de La Valette, duc d', 1554-1642.	1598 (1598)	STC 24096; ESTC S111433	52,678	150

still at her former Crime And with Remorse doth mortifie the Spright VVhilst wronged Soule on Others layes the blame Yet reprehends her selfe euen for the same This earthly Beautie doth the Sence delight But Heauenly Beautie doth ●he minde mo●e please The one the World hath as an Obiect right And seekes the World to pleasure with sweet ease But th' other hath ●ehouah for hir glasse Nor she for any but for him doth passe The Sence doth burne with ●oues vnperfect works Which like a blaz● in th' aire doth flit away The Soule thirsts after that which neuer hurts And hunts for that which neuer will decay That which not subiect is to any time But of it selfe most Perfect and Diuine Thou Lord the Mortall and Immortall both Created hast marke humbly I require How much within my bodie they be wroth Marke how within me gainst me they conspire VVithin themselues they vary so and grudge That which of both shall win us hard to iudge My bad Conceits from Adam sprung of yore Doo headlong runne to endles death with shame And lesse that Reason do th●m bridle sore Hardly my Soule can ●asse from whence it came Then pardon Lord the Course that I haue runne And I from Sinne a new Man will become A Tirant great faire Beautie is in Loue When it doth triumph in a louely face And who with cold Disdaine this doth not moue Is caught by subtill sweet alluring Grace Who stands at Beauties Gaze and doth not flie Is soone entrapt by wilfull glan●ing eye This which of true Loue is but Picture bare With shadowing Vale doth dimme our cleerest sight And if to follow it we do not spare It soone deceiues vs with a false delight And to perpetuall prison sends our soule Vnles her sleights by Reason we controule Faire Pearle fine gold base ex●rements of th' earth What 's Beautie but a little White and Red Reuiued with a little liuely Breath With Winde or Sunne or Sicknes altered All this ●oth Time consume and bring to nought And all what ere into this world is brought The fairest Colours drie and vanish shall The yongst must pack as well as doth the Olde All mortall things to mortall death must fall And therefore first were cast in earthly molde That which doth ●●orish greene as grasse to day Tomorow withereth like to dried Hay Swift flies our yeares as doth a running streame And lothed Age comes stealing on apace Our youth doth passe away as t were a Dreame And Death doth follow for to take his place Death comes and our Lifes patent to his hand For to resigne he straight doth vs command Strength to his course and winde vnto his flight VVith feathers to his wings Time ioyneth fast And this sweet life which we so much do like Though nere so loth yet must away at last The fairest Flower must wither with the weede VVhat so doth liue to die was first decreede Thrise happie man and trebble blest is he That neuer treads his steps from rightest way Nor with the mist of VVorld will blinded be But keepes right path and neuer goes astray Contemning all these mundaine Treasur● base In hope to ioy the heauenly Wealth of Grace VVho dyeth ill dyes who dieth well neuer dies But liues a life aboue Eternallie Like good ●l●as who in wondrous wise VVas from base Earth tooke vp to liue in skie VVhere bide Th'elect of Christ for euer blest In Abrahams bosome there for aye to rest For thee my HART doth burne like fire Deare Lord Which freesde before like Frost and chillie Ice For thee to leaue my sinne I doe accord Through which thy heauenly grace I did despise All Follies now as Shadowes vaine I le leaue And vnto thee the Substance trew I cleaue In thee I burne and in my selfe I freese Frozen through feare but burning through thy Loue. Reason ore Senses mine now ouersees And her Authoritie ore them doth proue Which makes me humbly call to thee for grace Though proud before I runne a selfe wild race Repentance right sad Griefe salt Teares sure Faith Renue in me a sorie Contrite Hart My guiltie Conscience oft within me saith I Death deserue yet Mercifull thou art Sighs from ●y soule I offer for my Fee As pretious Blood thou offredst once for mee My Hart now clensde and yet not mine as now ●weet Christ to thee his first Home turnes againe ●rom me he flies and vnto thee doth bow ● giue it thee Accept I pray the same Ah Soueraigne Sauiour do not now despise A broken Hart for pleasing Sacrifise Weake is my Barke in which my Life doth rowe My wretched life through grieuous faults mispent And in the World his Ocean sayles but slowe Because it falles into the Occident My sickly Minde runnes selfe same doubtfull way And Soule doth grieue that Fancie ●o doth stray And though a gentle calmie Winde to blowe She findes about her as she fresh do●h sayle Yet vnder Waters doe I spie belowe The Foe of my poore Soule her to assayle And in that part wherein he doth espie The Ship to leake in that he close doth lie Ah now it grieues me now I doe repent My re●chlesse Race that I so Iewde haue runne Yet hath my God in mercie to me sent Helpe to my Vessell weake else I vndon● Hope at the left hand standes that part ●o guide And constant Faith on right hand doth abide Earth was my flesh before and earth againe Ere long it shall be but my Soule on hie Shall be lift vp in brightest Heauens ●o raigne If I from false alluring Sinne can flie When at his feete who first life to me gaue A Glorious Seat for euer I shall haue Full 7. times foure of yeeres my life hath runne Whil'st to my selfe a heauy B●rthen sore To others I a gainelesse charge become Soyled with beastly Thoughts vncleanly gore Whil'st in true Light being blind I farther goe From Reasons path which Iudgement did me show Slow to good works but too too swift to ill My Soule abroad with flitting wings doth flie And in the worlds darke bottom of Selfe will Mongst 1000. Snares she carelesly doth lie Where sensual Sense and Ignorance astray Her doubtfull leades quight out of her right way Too obstinate she headlong forward runnes In greatest Light she tumbleth in most darke Nor takes she thought what of her selfe becomes Be it right or wrong her course she doth not marke So that although Immortall she should liue Most mortall Death she seekes her selfe to giue But now thanks to the Soueraigne King of all She no more blinde the dangers gins to spie And looking backe vnto her former fall She doth repent through faith most heartily Where she doth see of Heauen the narrow Gate Which once was shut now ope for her escape King of all Kinges which from thy sacred Throne Doest ma●ke and view from forth the Heauens hie Thy Graces vnto Adams Ofspring showne Of thy great Loue although vnworthilie

ride Creator of all Creatures that do liue Whose Loue was such as thou for Man hast dide Though he thee hated skorned and did grieue Vouchsafe to view and rue my desprate state And me once more from sinne regenerate Ah looke vpon me with milde Mercies eye Clense me with purest Water of thy Grace Remember not how I haue gone awry Since I renounce to runne more such a Race Ah glorious Spouse thy Beautie I desire For now to He●uen not Earth my Thoughts aspire Griefe that was once farre off remou'd from me Begins as now for to approach me nere Clad in his Weedes which Black and fearf●ll be And crownde with fatall Cypresse doth appeare With wringing Hands he doth bewaile my ruth And mournes that I haue straide so wide frō Truth Reason the Cochman to my wandring Thought As in a Christall glasse doth shew most plaine My gazing eyes how I haue fondly wrought Spending my Time in Toyes and Fancies vaine He shew'th me now another Nouell LOVE Another path wherein my feete to moue As One who in his Trauaile doth espie By chance a hideous Serpent or foule Snake That long before vnseene did closely lie Behinde some stub where he his Nest did make Shaking his three-forkt hissing tongue apace Quickly himselfe retireth from that place So I by louing wrong vnhappie Wight Hauing amisse straide long time and awrie When I at last of Death had but a sight Although farre off yet backward gan I hie Backward I came with hastie speedie foote Leauing that Course which I at first had tooke Thou w●ndring Spirit to whom Ioue doth commit Of this my Body fraile the gouernment Why gadding thus from Truth so farre dost flit Why are thine eyes with wilfull blindnes pent Why dost not marke what Danger is at hand What damned Death doth at thine elbow stand Ah be not flattred with this poysenous LOVE But call thy former Wits to thee againe Those wicked Thoughts roote out and hence remoue Whilst Life in thee to do it doth remaine What Mortall is by mortall Death suppresse Thy Gaine shall be the more thy Losse the lesse Heauen once thy Mansion was and dwelling place Now Hell thou seekst by running thus astray Vnhappie Soule to be in such a case So wilfully to seeke thine owne Decay Thou woundst thy selfe to God a Rebbell th' art And only striu'st to please the World in Hart. Alas in whom now dost thou put thy trust On whom dost thou relie or hope on now Ah turne and still liue shalt thou with the Iust Ah turne againe and trebble blessed thou Thou then shalt be whereas the Blessed are Pure Soule mongst Soules mongst Stars a brightsome Starre What 's God The Sourse of Goodnes and the Sprin● What is that Goodnes Such a Goodnes sound As aye increaseth without perishing How is it made In frame and fashion Round Like to a Forme that in it doth containe His End and his Beginning in the same This Goodnes first from whence did it proceede Three proper Veines there be that forth do runne Out of one sacred Sea from Heauen decreede Which co●passe doth All what so ere sees Sunne Cannot we see it This ESSENCE most Diuine No Mortall Man hath seene at any time How can it then be if it neere be seene That i● our mindes oft lifteth vp on High As if in Vision we in Heauen had beene It makes vs view such Wonders with Faiths eye With Faith● cleere eye which shines to vs so bright As vnto Heauen it is our Guide and Light What is that Faith A Gift which if Defect In him that firme beleeueth be not found It blindfold leades him yet with steps direct Vnto that place where perfect Ioyes abound Where God the Father Sonne and Holy Ghost Doe raigne in Glorie great of Mightiest most Thou LIFE which Life art calde and yet art Death Thou DEATH which Death art termde and yet art Life Say which of you maintaine my v●tall breath Within thi● wretched Vale of Worldly strife Say which prolongs my Life most of you Twaine Or thou LIFE or thou DEATH say both the same I more then LIFE straight DEATH doth answer make Nay I quoth LIFE farre more then DEATH to me And for this Cause this only Name I take Of LIFE which by my meanes alone can be Because whilst I within thy Body liue Death no way can thee hinder hurt or grieue But I by cutting off DEATH straight replies This slender Thred whereby Men runne their race Bring euery Faithfull soule in friendly wise Where he a better path for aye may trace Making him leade a Life eternallie A LIFE that still doth liue and neuer die Wherefore what ere he be that meanes to ioy This other LIFE that is Celestiall He mu●● not scorne to scape from worlds annoy Nor thinke it much to come when DEATH shall call For DEATH no● LIFE doth help vs at the end LIFE is our Foe but DEATH our dearest Friend All fraile most happie Day in blessed wise A Day of Griefe yet Honorable Day In which the Father did for Sacrifise Offer his Sonne to saue Man from decay Clensing our Soules defilde with sinfull mind With Innocent with pure and pretious Blood Vpon that Crosse now sacred then Prophane He ●ide for vs who could not dye indeede Whilst closing his fayre eyes for Mortals gaine He opened all the Gates of Heauen with speede Restoring them that Kingdome we had lost VVhich nothing Vs but Him too dearly cost Not his but our Due was it for to Die Those Torments which he meekly did endure His Crowne of Thornes his Wounds done spitefully That Cursed Scourge that spilt his Blood so pure All these to Vs and not to him did long Yet for our sakes our Christ himselfe did wrong Then if for pitie Graues do open wide Hils cleaue and Marble pillars rent in twaine If Heauens themselues their Lights for griefe do hide And if the Sunne for sorow clipst remaine VVhat Mortall hart is there that doth not breake VVhen he but thinks or of this Day doth speake That Vertue through whose power rulde is my soule Only through Vertuous Loue from Loue set free Takes force afresh as one that would controule And finding strong himselfe within to bee Vnbridled Will he seekes to bridle now And tries to breake what fore he scarce could bow New Lords new Lawes New Customes breake the Olde And where before a dark and mistie clowde My minde as in a prison did infolde Now is it loosde from out that gloomie shrowde My Hart doth iump euen iust with his desire And by their Eye know both what to require My watchfull Soule recouered hath well nie The former state in which he liued in And being free doth call to memorie VVhat bound he did forget through wretched sin VVhil●● for his life repentant he attends Immortally to liue for his amends Not any part there is of Bodie mine But filled is with true not false Delight Yet doth it grieue

doth her obscure Thy haires to Phoebus lightning in the Aire When he doth shine with greatest Luster pure Thy diamond eyes like to a frostie Night Where sparkling stars doe shooting take their flight Thy cheekes Aurora like when with her Dew The Rose and Lillie she doth sprinkle sweete Resembling drops that seeded Pearle doe shew As if that double Beautie did them greete Thy Hand no hand it is the daintie Gloue Which Psyches ware when she was wed to LOVE VVhat art thou but All faire in outward show But inwardly th' art Cruel and vnkinde In thy faire Face all Fauours sweet doe grow But Thornes and Briars in thy Hart I finde With s●ew of sweet thou lur'st and dost entise But bitterly thou makst them pay the price Thou cruell lead'st my life to dismall Death My hope from all her Ioyes thou dost confine Thou art the corde that stopst my vitall breath And Armes with Armes against me dost conioyne Thou only art the SHE that 's fenst with hate And dost thy selfe of pitie naked make Tirde with a Burthen of Extremities Which breakes not bowes my wofull Hart in twaine And checkt with chiefest Mate of Miseries I linger out my lothed life in paine Then death not life I may this liuing call Where ceasles Noy not ioy doth me befall Black gloomy Thoughts 〈◊〉 me doe tyrannise And to my Soule appoynted faithfull Guides Doe her deceiue with her they subtellise Nor in this ill to comfort me None bides All my best Hopes are at an Ebbing low Whilst stealing yeares with griefes encreasing grow What shall I doe shall I to reason turne Oh no for her I too much haue offended What shal I goe to LOVE and to him mourne For aide and promise all shall be amended Alas it were in vaine and labour lost Where he doth promise he deceiueth most See then ye fond Desires what you haue done By headstrong Will sage Reason to depraue But what shall I as now resolue vpon Whom shall I trust of whom helpe shall I craue Euen her who first betraide me will I trust She can but be as she hath been vniust Come gentle sleepe sweet sleepe my welcome Frend Come comfort me with shadow of my Loue And her in vision quickly to me send For whom these g●iefes and bitter pangs I proue Black Night be thou far darker then thou art Thy chiefest Beautie is to be most darke By thee my peace and pleasure doth arise Whilst I through thy deceit yet liking me Doe seeme to ioy with her in louely wise Although from hence God knowes far off she be Such is the pleasure that herein I take As more I could not ioy were I awake Thou shewst to me the trammels of her Haire Clept SCALA COELI locks of pure Delight Her snowy Neck the cause of my sweete Care Her eyes like Saphires sparkling in the night With ot●er sights vnseemly to be knowne Al these sweet sleep through thee to me are showne Only in this my thinks th' art too vnkinde That when thou partst from me all ioy doth part Nor any such thing left with me I finde Which then afresh renewes mine inwa●d smart Then since her selfe I waking cannot haue Sleeping let me her shadow of thee craue Like as the painefull Marchant venterer That is to leaue his sweetest natiue soyle Being bound vnto some strangy Countrie far Whome hope of gaine doth restles make to toyle Taking his leaue of his deare Familie Through feare hope makes them to liue and die But afterward when he hath crost the Seas Fraughting his ship with richest marchandise He then begins to frolicke Hearts at ease And hoyseth vp his sailes in cheerefull wise Searching by skill the shortest cut to take Of this his wearie iourney end to make When being almost tired at the last He is in kenning of his wished Home And when hauing of his Natiue Aire a taste Twixt ioy and griefe his very soule doth grone For griefe his Countrie he so long did in For ioy that Home he now returned is So fare I for when I doe call to minde The time in which my Libertie was lost I shed salt teares to thinke how I did binde My selfe being free as slaue vnto my cost But when I hope one day I shall be free Through my sweet Saint my hart doth leap for glee As many fierie darts as Ioue on high Dingde downe on Giants in his angrie mood So many whirle about my Bodie nigh As longing causeles for my guiltles blood The frighted Aire raine Ashes downe apace And cheerefull sunne flies hence to hide his face Thus stand I in a Maze of Miserie My Heart seeing nought but signes of present death Seekes how with clipped wings away to flie And faine would scape to saue his vitall breath Ah pouer wretch but how ●ft possible I know not how nor he himselfe can tell The world 's his foe and LOVE doth him betraie Despaire of helpe his senses doth confound His cursed Guide for nonce leades him astraie Fortune accuseth him on no sure ground And which doth gaule him most most doth grieue His Mistris rash gainst him doth iudgement giue He Mercie cries and calleth for his Booke But proude Disdaine doth stop the Iudges eare● So that on ●im she 'le not so much as looke And thus from Barre they quickelie doe him beare From ALBAS presence is he qui●e debarde Exilde from Her this is his sentence harde Great state and pomp this princely pallace showes And richly euery chamber hanged is Mine entertainment daily sweeter growes What Hart or thought can gesse I doe not misse Chiefly the Walkes and Gardens wondrous been As they a second Paradise doe seeme Yet though I finde this kindnes passing great VVith hunting hawking fowling and such sport For all our feasting and our daintie meate Our mirth and Musick in most pleasing sort For all these pleasures yet liue I in paine Since Her I want for whom I wish in vaine VVhat others loue I lothe and quite dislike And though I am in worthie co●panie Yet still my think● I am retired quite Into a place of matchles miserie Into an vncouth wood and wildernes VVhere liue such Beasts as pray on Sauagenes And if that long from her I be depriu'd My life shall be like flowers that want the Sun So shall I yeeld my Ghost as one disliu'd VVhilst my threds life shall quickly be vnspun Go skalding sighs then flie vnto her straite Say that for life or death on her I waite You stately Hils you princelike Ruins olde Which proudly in your last remainders show And who as yet the name of faire Rome holde To whom did once the whole world homage owe The place where now so many Relikes lie Of Holy soules honord for Christ to die You Theaters you Conquerors Arches faire Colosses huge and massie Pillers great Triumphant Showes of more then Glory rare Where Victorie with pomp did take their seate Lo what a wonder strange in you is

and TAVVNY Weedes will goe Because Forsooke and dead I am with woe LOVES LABOR LOST I once did see a Play Ycleped so so called to my paine VVhich I to heare to my small Ioy did stay Giuing attendance on my froward Dame My misgiuing minde presaging to me Ill Yet was I drawne to see it gainst my Will This Play no Play but Plague was vnto me For there I lost the Loue I liked most And what to others seemde a left to be I that in earnest found vnto my cost To euery one saue me t was Comicall Whilst Tragick like to me it did befall Each Actor plaid in cunning wise his part But chiefly Those entrapt in Cupids snare Yet All was fained t was not from the hart They seemde to grieue but yet they felt no care T was I ●hat Griefe indeed did beare in brest The others did but make a show in Iest. Yet neither faining theirs nor my meere Truth Could make her once so much as for to smile Whilst she despite of pitie milde and ruth Did sit as skorning of my Woes the while Thus did she sit to see LOVE lose his LOVE Like hardned Rock that force nor power can moue My lifes Catastrophe is at an end The Staffe whereon my sickly Loue did leane And which from falling still did him defend Is through mischance in sunder broken cleane Gone is my Mediatrix my best Aduocate Who vsde for me to intercessionate Ah that my Loue cannot aright be waide In Ballance iust as merits due desart But must with Hate for her Goodwill be paide Whereof Th'exchequer is mine ALBAS Hart The Saphire cut with his owne dust may be Mine owne pure Faith in Loue confoundeth me O be not still vnto me thus seuere But rather Simplest milde in sicknes mine Honey with Gawle Oyle mix with Vineger With frownes blithe smiles some sweete with sower of thine Giue me to comfort mine a Lenatiue But not t' encrease my Paine sharpe Corasiue Canst thou endure that as a Ghost or Sprite I still should haunt thee with my irksome cryes Ah yet at last vnto thy selfe be like Some pitie shew from out those murthring eyes If th'owlt not grant my sute nor louing be At least yet in my Griefe do flatter me Deare Parler louing lodging vnto me Mine only Walke and Garden of Delight Ah who hath tooke thy Beautie now from thee And rest from me what most did please my sight Ah if our wonted Sunne do not returne As absent Her so me dead shalt thou mourne My Hart that scarce his fainting breath drawes hard Demaundeth still his tribute of mine eyes Needes must I say a too too small reward Whilst he his Masters sorrowes oremuch tries Poore Hart thy Master wrongs thee I confesse Yet cannot he amend it neere the lesse I beare my part with thee in this sad mone In this sad Quire where dolefull Notes I sing For not to any but to me alone This Roo●th as vncouth seemes and griefe doth bring Yet sin●● she here did vse her walke to make These naked Walls I le honor for her sake Ah Quondam Temple of my Goddesse faire Great reason haue I thee for to adore Thy Boords and Windowes I do holde as rare Since thou hast entertainde her heretofore Though Saint be gone and nought be left but Shrine Yet for her Loue I le hold thee as Diuine Shall these same Eyes but now no Eyes at all Raine Teares still thus and shall this my poore Hart In vaine vpon a flintie Corse still call For mercie who no Mercie will impart Shal this my Tongue now hoarse with Pitie crying Nere finde reliefe but still a Voice denying Ah partiall LOVE Ah World vnmeet for men Ah maners fit for sauadge Beasts to loathe Ah wicked Fortune thus dost quit me then Because thou seest my selfe with Loue I cloathe Another shall despoyle me and vnbare Is this reward for faith vowde to the FAIRE Sweet meate sowre sawce deserues I must confesse But pure Loue should nere purchase Hate in right By Ones Disdaine which is remedilesse I liue to like vnlou'd to worke my spight Wretched 's that Wight but faithfull Pat●●ne rare That doth through Loue Death to himselfe prepare Now by these brinish teares that outwardly Distill from weeping eyes like showers of raine And by those drops of blood vnseene of eye Which inwardly from hart streame downe amaine And by what els I haue All which is Thine Begin to loue els end this life of mine Ah ALBA faire ah me vnfortunate Ah that my Birth 's so low my Thoughts so his My due Desires so great so poore my state As not to ioy my Right deseruinglie How might I please thee thee for to possesse With how gteat will would I my selfe addresse Will Labours patient of Extremities Obtaine the fauour of thy long sought Loue I will attempt if so thou but deuise Monsters to tame and Mountaines to remoue Alcides like all things I will subdue So I may finde thee gracious when I sue Dost thou ●he passions of deep Loue desire The sad despayring moode of perplext minde The nere exprest through hidden torments Fire Of racked Thoughts dost couet this to finde Mark 〈◊〉 deep sighs my hollow eyes salt teares My broken sleepes my heauy countnance beares Wouldst thou I to thy Beautie vowde should be● And in thy seruice spend my long lifes time Remember then my solitarie life for thee This seuen whole yeares a Prentiship of mine T is true thou knowst where ere thou now remaine Then be appeasde and pleasde to ease my paine Say then faire ALBA faire yet full of spight What haue I done that thou shouldst me vndoe Holding thee Deare why setst 〈◊〉 me so light Why silent art thou when to thee I sue The more Submissiue I and Humble am Why gainst me dost thy selfe still sdainfull frame Whom haue I but mine owne Thoughts entertainde And thy rare Vertues and what companie But Contemplation hath with me remainde And whom haue I still wondred at but thee Whom haue I not contemnd for thee since time I first beheld that matchles shape of thine Haue I not crept to some not trod with feete On them cause thou to fauour them I saw Haue not all Iniuries to me bin sweete If thou didst will me beare them t was a Law Haue I not spent my golden yeares with I ope Seeking nought but thy Loue my Wishes scope Yet in the midst of these distempered Thoughts Thou art not only Ielous of my Truth But makst account of me farre worse then Noughts Nor dost by Message yeeld me any Ruth My Loue vnspotted cannot be accepted My Truth O strange vnspeakable's reiected Like to this Sea LOVE hath me fashiond right He full of water I replete with woe He boyles and bubleth vp in open sight I fret and rage where ere I wandring goe He flowes and boue his banks the surges rise From me salt teares gush forth in streaming wise He water wants not