Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	appear_v	life_n	sin_n	4,010	5	4.7063	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A11254	The phoenix nest Built vp with the most rare and refined workes of noble men, woorthy knights, gallant gentlemen, masters of arts, and braue schollers. Full of varietie, excellent inuention, and singular delight. Neuer before this time published. Set foorth by R.S. of the Inner Temple Gentleman.	R. S., of the Inner Temple.; Raleigh, Walter, Sir, 1552?-1618. aut; Stapleton, Richard, fl. 1595, attributed name.	1593 (1593)	STC 21516; ESTC S101929	50,100	122

eternall be And liue by vertue of his inke For by his verses he doth giue To short liude beautie aye to liue Aboue all others this is hee Which erst approoued in his song That loue and honor might agree And that pure loue will doe no wrong Sweete saints it is no sinne nor blame To loue a man of vertuous name Did neuer loue so sweetly breath In any mortall brest before Did neuer muse inspire beneath A Poets braine with finer store He wrote of loue with high conceit And beautie reard aboue hir height Then Pallas afterward attyrde Our Astrophill with hir deuice Whom in his armor heauen admyrde As of the nation of the skies He sparkled in his armes afarrs As he were dight with fierie starrs The blaze whereof when Mars beheld An enuious eie doth see afar Such maiestie quoth he is seeld Such maiestie my mart may mar Perhaps this may a suter be To set Mars by his deitie In this surmize he made with speede An iron cane wherein he put The thunder that in cloudes do breede The flame and bolt togither shut With priuie force burst out againe And so our Astrophill was slaine This word was slaine straightway did moue And natures inward life strings twitch The skie immediately aboue Was dimd with hideous clouds of pitch The wrastling winds from out the ground Fild all the aire with ratling sound The bending trees exprest a grone And sigh'd the sorow of his fall The forrest beasts made ruthfull mone The birds did tune their mourning call And Philomell for Astrophill Vnto hir notes annext a phill The turtle doue with tunes of ruthe Shewd feeling passion of his death Me thought she said I tell thee truthe Was neuer he that drew in breath Vnto his loue more trustie found Than he for whom our griefs abound The swan that was in presence heere Began his funerall dirge to sing Good things quoth he may scarce appeere But passe away with speedie wing This mortall life as death is tride And death giues life and so he di'de The generall sorrow that was made Among the creatures of kinde Fired the Phoenix where she laide Hir ashes flying with the winde So as I might with reason see That such a Phoenix nere should bee Haply the cinders driuen about May breede an ofspring neere that kinde But hardly a peere to that I doubt It cannot sinke into my minde That vnder branches ere can bee Of worth and value as the tree The Egle markt with pearcing sight The mournfull habite of the place And parted thence with mounting flight To signifie to Ioue the case What sorow nature doth sustaine For Astrophill by enuie slaine And while I followed with mine eie The flight the Egle vpward tooke All things did vanish by and by And disappeered from my looke The trees beasts birds and groue was gone So was the friend that made this mone This spectacle had firmely wrought A deepe compassion in my spright My molting hart issude me thought In streames foorth at mine eies aright And heere my pen is forst to shrinke My teares discollors so mine inke An Epitaph vpon the right Honorable sir Philip Sidney knight Lord gouernor of Flushing TO praise thy life or waile thy woorthie death And want thy wit thy wit high pure diuine Is far beyond the powre of mortall line Nor any one hath worth that draweth breath Yet rich in zeale though poore in learnings lore And friendly care obscurde in secret brest And loue that enuie in thy life supprest Thy deere life done and death hath doubled more And I that in thy time and liuing state Did onely praise thy vertues in my thought As one that seeld the rising sunne hath sought With words and teares now waile thy timelesse fate Drawne was thy race aright from princely line Nor lesse than such by gifts that nature gaue The common mother that all creatures haue Doth vertue shew and princely linage shine A king gaue thee thy name a kingly minde That God thee gaue who found it now too deere For this base world and hath resumde it neere To sit in skies and sort with powres diuine Kent thy birth daies and Oxford held thy youth The heauens made haste staide nor yeeres nor time The fruits of age grew ripe in thy first prime Thy will thy words thy words the seales of truth Great gifts and wisedome rare imploide thee thence To treat from kings with those more great than kings Such hope men had to lay the highest things On thy wise youth to be transported hence Whence to sharpe wars sweete honor did thee call Thy countries loue religion and thy friends Of woorthy men the marks the liues and ends And her defence for whom we labor all There didst thou vanquish shame and tedious age Griefe sorow sicknes and base fortunes might Thy rising day saw neuer wofull night But past with praise from of this worldly stage Backe to the campe by thee that day was brought First thine owne death and after thy long fame Teares to the soldiers the proud Castilians shame Vertue exprest and honor truly taught What hath he lost that such great grace hath woon Yoong yeeres for endles yeeres and hope vnsure Of fortunes gifts for wealth that still shall dure Oh happie race with so great praises run England doth hold thy lims that bred the same Flaunders thy valure where it last was tried The Campe thy sorow where thy bodie died Thy friends thy want the world thy vertues fame Nations thy wit our mindes lay vp thy loue Letters thy learning thy losse yeeres long to come In worthy harts sorow hath made thy tombe Thy soule and spright enrich the heauens aboue Thy liberall hart imbalmd in gratefull teares Yoong sighes sweete sighes sage sighes bewaile thy fall Enuie hir sting and spite hath left hir gall Malice hir selfe a mourning garment weares That day their Haniball died our Scipio fell Scipio Cicero and Petrarch of our time Whose vertues wounded by my woorthles rime Let Angels speake and heauens thy praises tell Another of the same Excellently written by a most woorthy Gentleman SIlence augmenteth griefe writing encreaseth rage Stald are my thoughts which lou'd lost the wonder of our age Yet quickned now with fire though dead with frost ere now Enrag'de I write I know not what dead quick I know not how Hard harted mindes relent and rigors teares abound And enuie strangely rues his end in whom no fault she found Knowledge hir light hath lost valor hath slaine hir knight Sidney is dead dead is my friend dead is the worlds delight Place pensiue wailes his fall whose presence was hir pride Time crieth out my ebbe is come his life was my spring tide Fame mournes in that she lost the ground of hir reports Ech liuing wight laments his lacke and all in sundry sorts He was wo worth that word to ech well thinking minde A spotlesse friend a matchles man whose vertue euer shinde Declaring in his

I liue thus will I passe my Loue Repulse contempt can neuer alter kinde Loues triumph doth consist in constant minde With constant minde the poore remainder gift That Loue amongst his many spoyles hath left me Is that which to the heauens my face shall lift Though other hope by fortune be bereft me And if I die this praise shall me await My Loue was endlesse voide of all deceit FINIS MVses helpe me sorrow swarmeth Eies are fraught with seas of languish Haples hope my solace harmeth Mindes repast is bitter anguish Eie of daie regarded neuer Certaine trust in world vntrustie Flattring hope beguileth euer Wearie olde and wanton lustie Dawne of day beholdes inthroned Fortunes darling proud and dreadles Darksome night doth heare him moned Who before was rich and needles Rob the spheare of lines vnited Make a sudden voide in nature Force the day to be benighted Reaue the cause of time and creature Ere the world will cease to varie This I weepe for this I sorrow Muses if you please to tarie Further helpe I meane to borrow Courted once by fortunes fauor Compast now with enuies curses All my thoughts of sorrowes sauor Hopes run fleeting like the Sourses Ay me wanton scorne hath maimed All the ioies my hart enioied Thoughts their thinking haue disclaimed Hate my hopes haue quite annoied Scant regard my weale hath scanted Looking coie hath forst my lowring Nothing likte where nothing wanted Weds mine eies to ceasles showring Former Loue was once admired Present fauor is estranged Loath'd the pleasure long desired Thus both men and thoughts are changed Louely Swaine with luckie speeding Once but now no more so frended Thou my flocks hast had in feeding From the morne till day was ended Drinke and fodder foode and folding Had my lambes and ewes togeather I with them was still beholding Both in warmth and winter weather Now they languish since refused Ewes and lambes are paind with pining I with ewes and lambes confused All vnto our deathes declining Silence leaue thy caue obscured Daine a dolefull Swaine to tender Though disdaines I haue endured Yet I am no deepe offender Philips sonne can with his finger Hide his scar it is so little Little sinne a day to linger Wise men wander in a tittle Trifles yet my Swaine haue turned Tho my sonne he neuer showeth Tho I weepe I am not mourned Tho I want no pitie groweth Yet for pitie loue my muses Gentle silence be their couer They must leaue their wonted vses Since I leaue to be a Louer They shall liue with thee inclosed I will loath my pen and paper Art shall neuer be supposed Sloth shall quench the watching taper Kisse them silence kisse them kindely Tho I leaue them yet I loue them Tho my wit haue led them blindely Yet my Swaine did once approue them I will trauell soiles remoued Night and morning neuer merie Thou shalt harbor that I loued I will loue that makes me wearie If perchaunce the Shepherd straieth In thy walks and shades vnhaunted Tell the Teene my hart betraieth How neglect my ioyes haue daunted T. L. Gent. STriue no more Forspoken ioyes to spring Since care hath clipt thy wing But stoope those lampes before That nurst thee vp at first with friendly smiles And now through scornes thy trust beguiles Pine away That pining you may please For death betides you ease Oh sweete and kinde decay To pine and die whilst Loue giues looking on And pines to see your pining mone Dying ioyes Your shrine is constant hart That glories in his smart Your Tropheis are annoyes And on your tombe by Loue these lines are plaste Loe heere they lie whom scorne defaste T. L. Gent. OF ceasles thoughts my mind hath fram'd his wings Wherewith he soares and climes aboue conceit And midst his flight for endles ioy he sings To spie those double lampes whose sweete receit Must be the heauen where as my soule shall rest Though by their shine my bodie be deprest Hir eies shrowd pitie pietie and pure Hir face shields Roses Lillies and delight Hir hand hath powre to conquere and allure Hir hart holds honor loue remorce and right Hir minde is fraught with wisdome faith and loue All what is hirs is borrowed from aboue Then mount my minde and feare no future fall Exceed conceit for she exceeds conceit Burne louely lamps to whom my lookes are thrall My soule shall glorie in so sweete receit Tho in your flames my corse to cinders wend Yet am I proud to gaine a Phoenix end T. L. Gent. WHen Pirrha made hir miracle of stones The baser sort of flintie molde she fram'd Whose course compact concealed all at once All what in nature could imperfect be So but imperfect perfect was the shape And minde euen with the mettall did agree The finer formes of Diamonds she made A peereles substance matchles for the molde Whence grew such shapes that heauen his pure forsook To frame a minde agreeing to the forme This by my proofe I finde for certaine true For why my mistres matchles in hir shape For bodie farre exceeds my base report For minde no minde can craue more rare supplies And last I spie the Saphirs in hir eies T. L. Gent. ALl day I weepe my wearie woes Then when that night approcheth neere And euery one his eies doth close And passed paines no more appeere I change my cheere And in the weepings of mine eie Loue bathes his wings and from my hart Drawes fire his furie to supplie And on my bones doth whet his dart Oh bitter smart My sighes within their clouds obscure Would blinde mine eies they might not see Those cruell pleasant lamps that lure My reason faine would set me free Which may not be The dried strawe will take the fire The trained brache will follow game The idle thought doth still desire Fond will is hardly brought in frame The more my blame Thus see I how the stormes doe growe And yet the paine I still approoue I leaue my weale I follow woe I see the rocke yet nill remooue Oh flie me Loue Then midst the stormes I shall preuent And by foresight my troubles cease And by my reason shun repent Thus shall I ioye if Loue decrease And liue in peace T. L. Gent. MY fraile and earthly barke by reasons guide Which holds the helme whilst will doth yeld the saile By my desires the windes of bad betide Hath saild these worldly seas with small auaile Vaine obiects serue for dreadfull rocks to quaile My brittle boate from hauen of life that flies To haunt the Sea of Mundane miseries My soule that drawes impressions from aboue And viewes my course and sees the windes aspire Bids reason watch to scape the shoales of Loue But lawles will enflamde with endles ire Doth steere in poope whilst reason doth retire The storms increase my barke loues billowes fill Thus are they wrackt that guide their course by will T. L. Gent. MIdst lasting griefes to haue but short