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	life_n	old_a	5,148	5	5.6715	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A11901	Lucius Annæus Seneca, the philosopher, his booke of the shortnesse of life translated into an English poem.; De brevitate vitae. English	Seneca, Lucius Annaeus, ca. 4 B.C.-65 A.D.; Freeman, Ralph, Sir, fl. 1610-1655.	1636 (1636)	STC 22215.5; ESTC S3838	16,911	42

thy life hath solely beene possest By the Republique let then some be spent To thine owne use nor is it my intent To call thee to a dull and lazie Ease To drowne that vigour in delights that please The vulgar People this gives no repose To any there are greater things then those Thou hast already done that may by thee In thy retirement safely acted be Th' Accompts of all the World thou managest With temperance as an others interest With Fore-sight thine owne and with a zeale As things that much concerne the Publique-weale In doing this thy duty thou gayn'st love Wherein an other hardly could remove A generall hatred it is better though To take accompt of thine owne life then know What store of Graine there is that strength of wit That vigour of thy mind for great things fit From a charge Honourable I must confesse But not conducing unto happines Call home to thee and think not thou wert borne And trayn'd in famous Arts to lay up Corne Thy Noble Education promis'd then Things of a Higher straine there want not men That moulded are for labour and can be Exact in matters of frugality Dull Iades great Burthens fitter are to beare Then generous Horses what a pitty 't were Their stately backes with heavy loades to presse Thinke also with thy selfe to what excesse Of envy th' art expos'd thou hast to doe With hunger and the common people too No reason workes no equity prevailes No Prayers move when hunger them assailes In Caius Caesars time who now at least If Sence of things abide in Soules deceast Is grieu'd to find the Roman people left In safety and himselfe of life bereft The Store-howses so empty were of graine That scarce a weekes Provision did remaine While he with ioyned Ships large Bridges made And with the forces of the Empire plaide The worst of evills Famine was at hand And that which followes Ruine of the land And this th' example of a Forreigne King Vnfortunately proud and mad did bring What thoughts had they that then imployed were Did they not Stones Fire Sword and Caius feare They all their Art as they had cause applide The ill that in their Bowells lurk'd to hide For some are cur'd ere they their Sicknes know While others Deaths from such a knowledge grow Cha. 19 FOr these things then doe thou thy selfe prepare Which more secure more calme more Noble are Is it all one think'st thou thus to take thought That Corne be cleane into the Garner brought And layd up dry least it grow Musty streight And heat and that it answer the iust weight Or to search out the highest Misteries To know the Nature of the Deities Their Will their Forme and their Condition To learne what manner of conclusion Waites on our Soules where Fate will them bestow So soone as they forth of our Bodies goe To understand what holds the heavier things Firme in the mid'st and what the lighter brings To hang aboue what highest beares the fire And doth the motions of the Starres inspire With all ●hings else that are by Nature sent To strike the wilest with astonishment Wouldst thou from Earth to these things raise thy mind Doo 't while thy blood is warme the Sprightful find Easi'st Aecesse this course of life imparts These things unto thee Love of all good Arts True Vse of uerrue Courage to defie The Powre of Lusts Skill how to live and dye Together with a firme and constant rest Whereof thou never canst be dispossest All busy'd men are wretched but yet none Like them that toyle not onely in their owne Frequent affaires but sleepe while others sleepe And when they walke the Pace of others keepe That eate with others appetites and waite To be commanded both to Love and hate Of all things the most free their lives seeme short That thus unto anothers Will resort They doe not envy him that gets Renowne By Pleading or that weares the Purple Gowne He ventures his life for it ●'have men call But one yeare by his Name he wasteth all Some having stretched their ambitions wide Dye yong and in the midst of all their pride Others that have great Dignities obtain'd By many Indignitie find they have gain'd But Titles to their Tombes some their last Age Fed with new hopes like their first youth ingage In great and wicked Proiects when they see Nothing but Death in their Infirmity Cha. 20 HE sordid is that catch'd with rude applause Grown old dies wrangling in a worthles cause Like him that weary lesse of toyle then life Faints in the mid'st of his officious strife Or him whom dying mid'st his heapes of Gold His long-fed Heire with laughter doth behold I cannot an Example here let passe That comes into my mind Turanius was An aged man exactly diligent Who after Ninety yeares a good part spent As Procuratour willing to desist By Caius Caesar was at length dismiss'd But comming Home he laid him on his Bed Bidding his Servants Mourne as he were dead Who standing round about him did expresse Sorrow for their old Master's Quietnesse Nor would his Family their griefe refraine Till to his labour he were call'd againe Is it such pleasure then to dye in cares So are the thoughts of most bent to affaires Their Bodies sooner then their minds doe faile Thus they their owne infirmities assaile And Age in no respect more Irkesome proves Then that from busines it them removes Law doth not force a Souldier to Fight At Fifty Yeares nor after Three-score cite A Senatour men doe more hardly draw Leave from themselves to rest then from the Law In the meane time while one anothers peace They daily interrupt and never cease To hurry and be hurry'd while they lye Together in a mutuall misery Their life is without Fruit without delight Or any thing that should the Soule invite No man makes Death his Obiect to their hope All men desire to give the largest scope Yea many contrive busines beyond Death Resolue of stately Monuments bequeath Great Guifts for Funerall Triumphs and devise Workes to be talk'd of with proud Obsequies But these like such as dye to soone should have Torches and Lampes to light them to their Grave FINIS

tale told or serious thought Deceiving to their Iournies end are brought Before they thinke them neere so we that make This speedy Iourney ' of Life both while we wake And sleepe by reason of our too much care Doe find it done before we be aware Cha. 10 SHould I in parts devide what I propose I easily then might prove the lives of those That so much mind the World to be most short Old Fabianus none of that odde sort Of Chaire-philosophers but Morrall grave Was wont to say that vices must not have A slight encounter the' are quoth he our Swords That must repell such Enemies not words Yet that men may their errours more refraine ' Ti better to instruct then to complaine These three degrees of time make up lifes summe What is what was and what is yet to come The present transient is and cannot last The future doubtfull onely what is past Is certaine fortune heere all right doth lose Not any other can thereof dispose This Worldly men have lost nor can they find Leasure enough their former deedes to mind Or if they could 't were an unpleasant thing To thinke of that which must repentance bring Men care not to looke backe on time ill spent For that remembrance needes must represent The shame when they shall truely ponder it Of what they tooke such pleasure to commit Such onely as by reasons rule direct Their actions can upon time-past reflect He that hath oft ambitiously desir'd Proudly contemn'd with insolence requir'd His captives thraldome he that hath deceiv'd Perfidiously extortingly bereav'd Or hath profusely spent can hardly be Content to have recourse to memory Whereas that onely is the Sacred time That doth above all power of fortune clime No sicknesse can disturbe nor feare nor want The firme fruition of the same supplant The present is but every single day Which passeth in a moment but we may At our owne pleasure all time past revive Whereof the busy'd doe themselves deprive It is the quiet mind that can revoke All parts of life whereas a heavy yoake Imposed is upon the labouring thought That to looke backe it hardly can be brought Such lives are swallow'd up and as t is vaine To seeke to fill what nothing can retaine So is it bootlesse store of time to give To them whose minds are like a leaking sive Time present is so short that 't is by some Thought nothing gone ere it be fully come And stoppes no more then the Celestiall speare Which never can its constant course forbeare Yet that to busy'd men is onely left Whereof they at the instant are bereft Cha. 11 BVt wouldst thou know how short a time they have Then doe but see how long a time they crave How earnestly doe old men begge t' obtaine Some yeares addition to their small remaine Who feigning themselves younger doe belye Their age and are deceiv'd so willingly As if the fates they also could delude But by some deadly sicknesse be'ng pursu'd How fearefully they draw their latest breath And goe not but are haled unto death Then they repent and vow if they recover Their health's their wonted courses to give over Finding their labour to small use imploy'd When what is gotten cannot be enioy'd Whereas a life from worldly troubles free Is long enough and cannot subiect be To Fortune Riot or an others will T is all our owne and turnes to profit still Though it be short it doth cententment find A Wise man dyes with an assured mind But thou purhaps wouldst be informed whom I meane by buside men not such as come Early into the Pleading place and stay So late that barking Dogges drive them away Nor those whom either their own Clients smother Bravely or else by following an other Contemptuously are trod on nor yet those That for base Lucre their Estates expose To sordid out-cries or whom flattery Drawes from their owne at others gates to lye Some mens repose is busines in their Beds And Houses of retirement are their Heads Still vainely troubled such cannot be said To be at rest but Idely busied Cha. 12 THink'st thou them quiet that with so much care Corinthian rusty Medalls will compare That from the false they may discerne the true Made pretious by the Folly of some few Or those that goe to see for loe we groane Not under Roman vices now alone Youths with Oil'd-bodies wrastle on the Stage Bred up on purpose of like shape and age Think'st thou Him quiet that spends halfe the day To have the tedious Barbour take away What grew the night before that time can spare To call a Councell upon every haire How it must lye what Choller will he vent If once the Barber seemes but negligent Who to displease him is as much afeard As if he cut the man and not his beard When by a Per'wigg th'haire's restor'd that 's shed Or growing thinne is o're the Fore-head spred Into what passion will he straight be put If any part of his Deare maine be cut Or if the same be discompos'd he frets If all be not reduc'd to Annulets May we not well beleeve he takes lesse care To have the State disordred then his haire Who rather to be spruce then honest strives Such are more curious of their lockes then lives Are they at rest who their whole time doe passe But onely with a Combe and Looking-glasse That Songs doe either make or sing or heare When as the voice that to the naturall eare In the plaine note sounds best is taught to run Wanton division with writh'd Faces done Who on their Fingers measure verses feet And though with serious or sad things they meet Yet are they ever warbling such as these In Lazie businesse live and not in ease Nor have they vacant time that feasts doe make Because we se what curious paines they take T' adorne with Plate their Cupboards and devise To put their Pages in quaint Liveries How carefull are they least the Cooke neglect To send the Bore in dress'd as they expect With what a quicknesse doe the servants fall Vnto their busines when they heare the call How neatly doth the Carver play his part In cutting up the fowle with so much art And after their full Cups spewing about How soone th' unhappy boyes will wipe it out In these respects they covet to be thought Magnificent and bounteous and are brought In every course of life to this condition They cannot eate or drinke but with ambition Nor have they quiet lives that up and downe Are born in Chairs and Litters through the towne For which they have their certain hours when they That are their Bearers dare not be away Who must by other men be put in mind To Bath to Swimme to Sup and are inclin'd To such a negligence that they scarce know Themselves whither they hungry be or no One of the nicer sort if so it be Nicenesse to loose humane society Lifted by men from forth a Bath all