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	time_n	year_n	5,388	5	4.9453	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A55247	A Poem on the condemnation of William Viscount Stafford		1680 (1680)	Wing P2689; ESTC R8470	1,364	1

POEM ON THE CONDEMNATION OF William Viscount Stafford Fantane Religio potuit suadere Malorum Aid me Apollo lay aside thy Lyre With Numbers high yet sad my Muse inspire In moving strains assist me to repeat A Noble's fall would he were Good as Great Oh Stafford Stafford how could'st thou when Death Led in by Time stood waiting for thy Breath By such ignoble ways and Methods strive To cut off those few Years thou had'st to live Alas what Bliss couldst thou expect to come O're-press'd with Age when Nature 's powerful doom Had left thee nought to hope for but a Tomb. Why should'st thou then in such a horrid Cause Turn Traytor to Divine and Humane Laws Ah! how could'st thou thou so unnatural be To him who was so good so kind to thee How could'st thou plot ' gainst such a King as he One who had heap'd such Honours on thy Head And yet could'st thou ingrateful wish him Dead Not onely wish him so but in that strife To act a part that was to take his Life Yet ' cause thy Blood from noble springs doth flow Would Error and not Malice made thee so Would thou wert over-reach'd that so the sin Might be less thine then theirs that drew thee in Fain would I think it were with thee as they An Ignis Fatuns leads out o' th' way Too credulous they follow the false Light And bless themselves for such a Guide i' th Night And think where e're it leads they 'r still i' th right And yet at last with toyl and trouble crost They feel the Pain but find the Labour lost They see the flatt'ring Light o' th sudden gone And they to their Dispair are left alone In Fens or Brakes or Floods to make their moan So thou O're-sway'd by 'th Pious-seeming Wits Of Hells chief Agents Juggling Jesuits By specious Arguments and pious fraud Such as Romes Pandemonium does applaud Wer't in that Hellish Brood drawn in to be An Actor in that Dismal Tragedy That boldly aim'd at Sacred Majesty But Heaven step'd in and sav'd the tottering Throne Just when it could be sav'd by Heaven alone And all the Plots of Rome and Hell were known All did I say Ah! no yet such so Vile So base so dire were found in Albions Isle As Scithia where the Sun dares scarce appear Where Horrid Winter broods would blush to hear That those whom Heaven had plac'd so near the Crown With Impious Hands should strive to pull it down Unhappy State of Monarchs who do good Even to those that strive to shed their Blood And they not know it but with gentle breath Speak those foul Serpents fair that plot their Death Ah! Stafford how couldst thou so base become So false to England to be True to ROME How couldst thou Plot his Death who always strove Not to Command but fairly win thy Love Ah! how couldst thou so base and Treacherous prove Couldst thou think Heaven asleep at such a time Or could'st believe it did approve thy Crime Or to such Treasons would Success have given Ah! no a King 's the Substitute of Heaven And Angels are his Guard The Gyants so of Old wag'd War with JOVE Striving by Arms to win the Seats Above Though Bold yet vainly in th' Attempt they fell And for their hop'd of Heaven were plung'd in Hell The Dreadful Thunder ruin'd their Designs And in their torments Heavens just vengeance shines Consider this Oh! Stafford and Repent Use well that little time that Heaven hath lent That little time for long it cannot be E're thou must enter Vast Eternity Oh! use it well let it to Tears be given Be Penitent and make thy peace with Heaven That when the fatal stroke shall end thy Days Its Mercy and Justice may have equal Praise FINIS LONDON Printed for T. Benskin in Green's Rents near Fleet-Bridge