Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	beauty_n	life_n	zion_n	22	3	8.6790	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A34931	Steps to the temple ; The delights of the Muses ; and, Carmen Deo Nostro by Ric. Crashaw ...	Crashaw, Richard, 1613?-1649.; Crashaw, Richard, 1613?-1649. Delight of the Muses.; Crashaw, Richard, 1613?-1649. Carmen Deo Nostro.	1670 (1670)	Wing C6839; ESTC R15482	79,698	224

Cough now no business here Out of Italian A Song TO thy Lover Deer discover That sweet blush of thine that shameth When those Roses It discloses All the Flowers that Nature nameth In free Air Flow thy Hair That no more Summers best dresses Be beholden For their Golden Locks to Phoebus Flaming Tresses O deliver Love his Quiver From thy Eyes he shoots his Arrows Where Apollo Cannot follow Featherd with his Mothers Sparrows O envy not That we dye not Those deer Lips whose Door encloses All the Graccs In their places Brother Pearls and Sister Roses From these Treasures Of ripe pleasures One bright smile to cleer the weather Earth and Heaven Thus made even Both will be good friends together The Air does 〈◊〉 thee Winds cling to thee Might a Word once fly from out thee Storm and Thunder Would fit under And keep silence round about Thee But if Natures Common Creatures So dear Glories dare not borrow Yet thy Beauty Owes a Duty To my loving lingring sorrow When to end me Death shall send me All his Terrors to affright me Thine Eyes Graces Guild their Faces And those Terrors shall delight me When my dying Life is flying Those sweet Airs that often slew me Shall revive me Or reprive me And to many Deaths renew me Out of the Italian LOve now no Fire hath left him We two betwixt us have divided it Your Eyes the Light hath reft him The Heat commanding in my Heart doth sit O! that poor Love be not for ever spoiled Let my Heat to your Light be reconciled So shall these Flames whose worth Now all obsoured lies Drest in those Beams start forth And dance before your Eyes Or else partake my Flames I care not whither And so in mutual Names O Love burn both together Out of the Italian WOuld any one the true cause find How Love came nak't a Boy and blind 'T is this listning one day too long To th' Syrens in my Mistress Song The extasie of a delight So much o'r-mastring all his might To that one Sense made all else thrall And so he lost his Clothes Eyes Heart and all On the Frontispiece of Isaacsons Chronologie explained IF with distinctive Eye and Mind you look Upon the Front you see more then one Book Creation is Gods Book wherein he writ Each Creature as a Letter filling it History is Creations Book which shows To what effects the Series of it goes Chronologie's the Book of History and bears The just account of Days of Moneths and Years But Resurrection in a Later Press And New Edition is the summe of these The Language of these Books had all been one Had not th' Aspiring Tow'r of Babylon Confus'd the Tongues and in a distance hurl'd As far the Speech as men o' th' new fill'd World Set then your Eyes in Method and behold Times Embleme Saturn who when store of Gold Coyn'd the first Age Devour'd that Birth he fear'd Till History Times eldest Child appear'd And Phaenix-like in spight of Saturns rage Forc'd from her Ashes Heires in every Age. From th' Rising Sun obtaining by just Suit A Springs Ingender and an Autumns Fruit. Who in those Volumes at her motion pen'd Unto Creations Alpha doth extend Again Ascend and view Chronology By Optick skill pulling far History Neerer whose Hand the piercing Eagles Eye Strengthens to bring remotest Objects nigh Under whose Feet you see the Setting Sun From the dark Gnomon o'r her Volumes run Drown'd in Eternal Night never to rise Till Resurrection show it to the Eyes Of Earth-worn men and her shril Trumpets sound Affright the Bones of Mortals from the ground The Columnes both are crown'd with either Sphere To show Chronology and History bear No other Culmen then the double Art Astronomy Geography impart Or Thus. LEt hoary Time's vast Bowels be the Grave To what his Bowels Birth and Being gave Let Nature die and Phaenix like from death Revived Nature take a second Breath If on Times right hand sit fair Historie If from the seed of empty Ruine she Can raise so fair an Harvest let her be Ne'r so far distant yet Chronology Sharp-sighted as the Eagles Eye that can Out-stare the broad-beam'd Days Meridian Will have a Perspicil to find her out And through the Night of error and dark doubt Discern the Dawn of Truth 's eternal Ray As when the Rosie Morn buds into Day Now that Time's Empire might be amply fill'd Babels bold Artists strive below to build Ruine a Temple on whose fruitful fall History rears her Pyramids more tall Then were th' Aegyptian by the life these give Th' Egyptian Pyramids themselves must live On these she lifts the World and on their base Shews the two Terms and Limits of Time's Race That the Creation is the Judgement this That the Worlds Morning this her Midnight is An Epitaph upon Mr. Ashton a Conformable Citizen THe modest front of this small floor Beleeve me Reader can say more Then many a braver Marble can Here lies a truly honest man One whose Conscience was a thing That troubled neither Church nor King One of those few that in this Town Honour all Preachers hear their own Sermons he heard yet not so many As left no time to practise any He heard them reverendly and then His practice preach'd them o'r agen His Parlour-Sermons rather were Those to the Eye then to the Ear. His Prayers took their price and strength Not from the loudness nor the length He was a Protestant at home Not onely in despight of Rome He lov'd his Father yet his Zeal Tore not off his Mothers Veil To th' Church he did allow her Dress True Beauty to true Holiness Peace which he lov'd in life did lend Her hand to bring him to his end When Age and Death call'd for the score No surfets were to reckon for Death tore not therefore but fans strife Gently untwin'd his thread of Life What remains then but that Thou Write these Lines Reader in thy Brow And by his fair Examples light Burn in thy imitation bright So while these Lines can but bequeath A Life perhaps unto his Death His better Epitaph shall be His Life still kept alive in Thee Out of Catullus COme and let us Live my Dear Let us Love and never Fear What the sowrest Fathers say Brightest Sol that dyes to day Lives again as blith to morrow But if we dark Sons of sorrow Set O then how long a Night Shuts the Eyes of our short Light Then let amorous Kisses dwell On our Lips begin and tell A Thousand and a Hundred score An Hundred and a Thousand more Till another Thousand smother That and that wipe of another Thus at last when we have numbred Many a Thousand many a Hundred We 'l confound the reckoning quite And lose our selves in wild delight While our joyes so multiply As shall mock the envious Eye Wishes to his supposed Mistress WHo e're she be That not impossible she That shall Command my Heart and me

Bliss On whose Pastures cheerful Spring All the year doth sit and Sing And rejoycing smiles to see Their Green Backs wear his Livery Pleasure sings my Soul to rest Plenty wears me at her Brest Whose sweet Temper teaches me Nor wanton nor in want to be At my Feet the blub'ring Mountain Weeping melts into a Fountain Whose soft silver-sweating Streams Make high Noon forget his Beams When my waiward Breath is flying He calls home my soul from dying Strokes and tames my rabid Grief And does woo me into life When my simple weakness strays Tangled in forbidden ways He my Shepheard is my guide He 's before me on my side And behind me he beguiles Craft in all her knotty wiles He expounds the giddy wonder Of my weary steps and under Spreads a Path clear as the Day Where no churlish rub says nay To my joy-conducted Feet Whilst they gladly go to meet Grace and Peace to meet new laies Tun'd to my great Sheapheards praise Come now all ye Terrors Sally Muster forth into the Valley Where Triumphant darkness hovers With a sable Wing that covers Brooding Horror Come thou Death Let the damps of thy dull Breath Overshadow even the shade And make darkness self-afraid There my Feet even there shall find Way for a resolved mind Still my Shepheard still my God Thou art with me Still thy Rod And thy Staff whose influence Gives direction gives defence At the whisper of thy Word Crown'd abundance spreads my Board While I Feast my Foes do feed Their rank Malice not their Need So that with the self-same Bread They are Starv'd and I am Fed. How my Head in Ointment swims How my Cup o're-looks her brims So even so still may I move By the Line of thy dear Love Still may thy sweet Mercy spread 〈◊〉 shady Arm above my Head About my Paths so shall I find The fair Center of my mind Thy Temple and those Lovely walls Bright ever with a Beam that falls Fresh from the pure glance of thine Eye Lighting to Eternity There I 'le dwell for ever there Will I find a purer Air. To feed my Life with there I 'le sup Balme and Nectar in my Cup And thence my ripe Soul will I breath Warm into the Arms of Death Psalm 137. ON the proud Banks of great Euphrates Flood There we sate and there we wept Our Harps that now no Musick understood Nodding on the Willows slept While unhappy captiv'd we Lovely Sion thought on thee They they that snatcht us from our Countreys Bres●… Would have a Song carv'd to their Ears In Hebrew numbers then O cruel Jest When Harps and Hearts were drown'd in Tears Come they cry'd come Sing and Play One of Sions Songs to day Sing Play to whom ah shall we Sing or Play If not Jerusalem to thee Ah thee Jerusalem ah sooner may This Hand forget the Mastery Of Musicks dainty touch then I The Musick of thy Memory Which when I lose O may at once my Tongue Lose this same busie speaking Art Unpearcht her vocal Arteries unstrung No more acquainted with my Heart On my dry Pallats roof to rest A wither'd Leaf an idle Guest No no thy good Sion alone must Crown The head of all my hope-nurst Joyes But Edom cruel thou thou cry'dst down down Sink Sion down and never rise Her falling thou didst urge and thrust And haste to dash her into Dust. Dost laugh proud Babels Daughter do laugh on Till thy ruine teach thee Tears Even such as these laugh till a venging throng Of woes too late doe rouze thy fears Laugh till thy Childrens bleeding Bones Weep precious Tears upon the stones Quem vidistis Pastores c. A Hymn of the Nativity sung by the Shepheards Chorus COme we Shepheards who have seen Days King deposed by Nights Queen Come lift we up our lofty Song To wake the Sun that sleeps too long He in this ou●… general Joy Slept and Dreamt of no such thing While we found out the fair-ey'd Boy And kist the Cradle of our King Tell him he rises now too late To shew us ought worth looking at Tell him we now can shew him more Then he e'r shew'd to Mortal sight Then he himself e'r saw before Which to be seen needs not his Light Tell him Tityrus where th' hast been Tell him Thyrsis what th' hast seen Tityrus Gloomy Night embrac't the place Where the Noble Infant lay The Babe lookt up and shew'd his Face In spight of Darkness it was Day It was thy Day Sweet and did rise Not from the East but from thy Eyes Thyrsis Winter chid the World and sent The angry North to wage his Wars The North forgot his fierce intent And left Perfumes instead of Scars By those sweet Eyes persuasive Powers Where he meant Frosts he scattered Flowers B●…th We saw thee in thy Balmy-Nest Bright Dawn of our Eternal Day We saw thine Eyes break from the East And chase the trembling Shades away We saw thee and we blest the sight We saw thee by thine own sweet Light Tityrus I saw the curl'd Drops soft and slow Come hovering o'r the places head Offring their whitest sheets of Snow To furnish the fair Infants Bed Forbear said I be not too bold Your Fleece is white but 't is too cold Thyrsis I saw th' Officious Angels bring The Down that their soft Brests did strow For well they now can spare their Wings When Heaven it self lies here below Fair Youth said I be not too rough Your Down though soft's not soft enough Tityrus The Babe no sooner 'gan to seek Where to lay his Lovely Head But streight his Eyes advis'd his Cheek 'Twixt Mothers Brests to goe to Bed Sweet choise said I no way but so Not to lie cold yet sleep in Snow All. Welcome to our wondring sight Eternity shut in a Span Summer in Winter Day in Night Chorus Heaven in Earth and God in Man Great little one whose Glorious Birth Lifts Earth to Heaven stoops Heaven to Earth Welcome though not to Gold nor Silk To more then Cesar's Birth-right is Two Sister-Seas of Virgins Milk With many a rarely-temper'd Kiss That Breaths at once both Maid and Mother Warms in the one cools in the other She sings thy Tears asleep and dips Her Kisses in thy weeping Eye She spreads the red Leaves of thy Lips That in their Buds yet Blushing lye She 'gainst those Mother Diamonds tryes The points of her young Eagles Eyes Welcome though not to those gay Flies Gilded i' th' Beams of Earthly Kings Slippery Souls in smiling Eyes But to poor Shepheards simple things That use no Varnish no oyl'd Arts But life clean Hands full of cleer Hearts Yet when young Aprils Husband Showers Shall Bless the fruitful Mai●…'s Bed We 'll bring the first-born of her Flowers To Kiss thy Feet and Crown thy Head To thee Dread Lamb whose Love must keep The Shepheards while they feed their Sheep To thee meek Majesty soft King Of simple Graces and sweet Loves Each

send Whose drowsiness hath wrong'd the Muses friend What hope Aurora to propitiate thee Unless the Muse sing my Apology O in that Morning of my shame when I Lay folded up in sleeps Captivity How at the sight didst thou draw back thine Eyes Into thy modest veyl how did'st thou rise Twice Dy'd in thine own Blushes and did'st run To draw the Curtains and awake the Sun Who rowzing his illustrious Tresses came An seeing the loath'd Object hid for shame His Head in thy fair Bosome and still hides Me from his Patronage I pray he chides And pointing to dull Morpheus bids me take My own Apollo try if I can make His Lethe be my Helicon and see If Morpheus have a Muse to wait on me Hence 't is my humble Fancy finds no wings No nimble Raptures starts to Heaven and brings Enthusiastick Flames such as can give Marrow to my plump Genius make it live Drest in the glorious Madness of a Muse Whose Feet can walk the Milky way and chuse Her Starry Throne whose Holy heats can warm The Grave and hold up an exalted Arm To lift me from my lazy Urne and climb Upon the stopped shoulders of old Time And trace Eternity But all is dead All these delicious hopes are buried In the deep wrinkles of his angry Brow Where Mercy cannot find them but O thou Bright Lady of the Morn pitty doth lye So warm in thy soft Brest it cannot dye Have Mercy then and when he next shall rise O meet the angry God invade his Eyes And stroak his radiant Cheeks one timelly kiss Will kill his Anger and revive my Bliss So to the Treasure of thy pearly Deaw Thrice will I pay three Tears to show how true My grief is so my wakeful lay shall knock At th' Oriental Gates and duly mock The early Larks shrill Orizons to be An Anthem at the Days Nativity And the same Rosie-finger'd hand of thine That shuts Nights dying Eyes shall open mine But thou saint God of sleep forget that I Was ever known to be thy votary No more my Pillow shall thine Altar be Nor will I offer any more to thee My self a melting-Sacrifice I 'm born Again a fresh Child of the Buxome Morn Heir of the Suns first Beams why threat'st thou so Why dost thou shake thy Leaden Scepter goe Bestow thy Poppy upon wakeful woe Sickness and Sorrow whose pale Lids ne'r know Thy Downy Finger dwell upon their Eyes Shut in their Tears shut out their Miseries Loves Horoscope LOve brave vertues younger Brother Erst hath made my Heart a Mother She consults the conscious Sphears To c●…lculate her young Sons years She asks if sad or saving pow'rs Gave Omen to his Infant hours She asks each ●…tar that then stood by If poor Love shall live or dye Ah my heart is that the way Are these the Beams that rule thy Day Thou know'st a Face in whose each look Beauty lays ope Loves Fortune-Book On whose fair Revolutions wait The obsequious Motions of Loves Fate Ah my Heart her Eyes and she Have taught thee new Astrology How e'r Loves Native hours were set What ever Starry Synod met T is in the Mercy of her Eye If poor Love shall live or dye If those sharp Rays putting on Points of Death bid Love begone Though the Heavens in Council sate To crown an uncontrouled Fate Though their best Aspects twin'd upon The kindest Constellation Cast amorous glances on his Birth And whisper'd the confederate Earth To pave his Paths with all the good That warms the Bed of Youth and Blood Love ha's no plea against her Eye Beauty frowns and Love must dye But if her milder infltence move And guild the hopes of humble Love Though Heavens inauspicious Eye Lay black on Loves Nativity Though every Diamond in Joves Crown Fixt his forehead to a frown Her Eye a strong appeal can give Beauty smiles and Love shall live O if Love shall live O where But in her Eye or in her Ear In her Breast or in her Breath Shall I hide poor Love from Death For in the life ought else can give Love shall dye although he live Or if Love shall dye O where But in her Eye or in her Ear In her Breath or in her Brest Shall I build his Funeral Nest While Love shall thus entombed lye Love shall live although he dye Out of Virgil In the praise of the Spring ALL Trees all Leavy Groves confess the Spring Their gentlest Friend then then the Lands begin To swell with forward pride and seed desire To generation Heavens Almighty Sire Melts on the Bosome of his Love and powrs Himself into her Lap in fruitful showres And by a soft insinuation mixt With Earths large Masse doth cherish and assist Her weak Conceptions No loan shade but Rings With chatting Birds delicious murmurings Then Venus mild instinct at set times yields The Herds to kindly meetings then the Fields Quick with warm Zephires lively breath lay forth Their pregnant Bosomes in a fragrant Birth Each body 's plump and jucy all things full Of supple moisture no coy twig but will Trust his beloved Bosome to the Sun Grown lusty now No Vine so weak and young That fears the foul-mouth'd Auster or those storms That the South-west wind hurries in his Arms But hastes her forward Blossomes and lays out Freely lays out her Leaves nor do I doubt But when the World first out of Chaos sprang So smil'd the days and so the tenor ran Of their felicity A spring was there An everlasting spring the jolly year Led round in his great Circle no winds Breath As then did smell of Winter or of Death When life's sweet Light first shone on Beasts and when From their hard Mother Earth sprang hardy men When Beasts took up their Lodging in the Wood Stars in their higher Chambers never cou'd The tender growth of things endure the sence Of such a change but that the Heav'ns indulgence Kindly supplys sick Nature and doth mold A sweetly temper'd Mean nor hot nor cold With a Picture sent to a Friend I Paint so ill my Piece had need to be Painted again by some good Poesie I write so ill my slender Line is scarce So much as th' Picture of a well-Lim'd Verse Yet may the Love I send be true though I Send not true Picture nor true Poesie Both which away I should not need to fear My Love or Feign'd or Painted should appear In praise of Lessius his rule of Health GOe now with some daring Drugg B●…it the disease and while they tug Thou to maintain their cruel strife Spend the dear Treasure of thy life Go take Physick doat upon Some big-nam'd Composition The Oraculous Doctors mistick Bills Certain hard Words made into Pills And what at length shalt get by these Onely a Costlyer disease Goe poor Man think what shall be Remedy against thy Remedy That which makes us have no need Of Physick that 's Physick indeed Hark hither Reader wouldst thou see