Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	believe_v	die_v	life_n	6,038	5	4.8496	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A04661	Poeticall varieties: or, Varietie of fancies. By Tho. Iordan Gent	Jordan, Thomas, 1612?-1685?	1637 (1637)	STC 14788; ESTC S107875	22,748	64

sell your smiles for weeping change your mirth For mourning dirges lave the pretious earth Of my inestimable friend with teares Fertill as them the cheeke of Aprill weares When Flora propagates her blessing on Th' approaching Daffadills under this stone Lyes his neglected ashes Oh that they Who knew his vertues best should let his Clay Lye unregarded so and not appeare With a full sorrow in each eye a teare Once daily ore his urne how can they thinke A pleasing thought sit and securely drinke Insatiate carrowses these are they Can lose both friends and sorrowes in one day Not worth my observation let me turne Againe to my sad duty where I le mourne Till my corporeall essence doe become A glyding rivolet and pay the summe To thy deare memory my streame shall lend A drop to none les he hath lost a friend The melancholly mad-man that will prove His passion for his Mistresse is but love Were best be thrifty in his teares for I Will not supply him though his mistresse dye My ford is thine deare Gunnell and for thee My Christall Channell flowes so currently Tagus and great Pactolus may be proud Of their red sands let me my Rivers shrowd In course Meanders where the waters shall In a griev'd murmure Gunnell Gunnell call It is for thee I flow for thee I glide I had retain'd my floods hadst thou not dyed And little water birds shall chaunt this theame Thy Iordan mourner is a Iordan streame An Epitaph on his kind friend Mr. Iohn Honiman Gent. THou that couldst never weepe and know'st not why Teares should be spent but in mans infancy Come and repent thy error for here lyes A Theame for Angels to write Elegies Had they the losse as we have such a one As nature kild for his perfection And when shee sends those vertues backe agen His stocke shall serve for twenty vertuous men In Aprill dyed this Aprill to finde May In Paradise or celebrate a day With some celestiall creature had he beene Design'd for other then a Cherubin Earth would have gave him choice he was a man So sweetly good that he who wisely can Describe at large must such another be Or court no Muses but Divinitie Here will I rest for feare the Readers eyes Vpon his urne become a Sacrifice An Elegie on Mr. Iohn Raven Gent. NO sooner did sad Rumour wound my eares With thy decease but Myriads of teares Sprung in my fluent eyes I sigh'd Oh me Is Raven dead why could the fatall THREE Not give some dispensation for a man Deserv'd the yeares of Nestor I began Much to invoke the destinies but they Gave me no answer sure they doe obey Some greater power whose immense soveraignty Admits no Inquisition How or Why The curse of frailty we but see to chuse Chuse to enjoy ere we enjoy we lose So is thy life to us what if thou be Enthron'd a Monarch for thy piety Our losse is still the same we lose our prize Because we cannot see thee with these eyes We doe not doubt thy welfare dearest friend But doe beleeve thy meritorious end Hath won eternity and yet indeed We cannot chuse but grieve teares will excced Though they allow no cause for if thou be So truly happy as divinitie Declares the blessed transmigration then T were sinfull griefe to wish thee here agen Thy death is my instruction and thy blisse The subject of my contemplation is Heaven inspire thy merit into me And I shall dye to deserve life with thee An Elegie on his beloved friend Mr. Charles Rider Student in the Art of Limning or Picture-drawing IF you can weepe draw neere but if your eyes Deny to yeeld a liquid 〈◊〉 Laughter perplex yee may you never be Worthy to be preserv'd in memory But amongst 〈…〉 such as know No season for their ●irth 〈◊〉 will allow Their idle jests and their more anticke slights On Funeralls as well as Brydall nights Here you that have the magazin of teares Exhaust your thrifty fountains he that weares Black with an honest sorrow I advise To ayde us in our too sad obsequies There is an Artist dead who i st that can Deny 〈…〉 be friend of every man That maks wi●e use of knowdedg 〈◊〉 was rare In limning 〈…〉 his chaste care Could nere permit his 〈◊〉 to encline To the rude 〈◊〉 of lustfull 〈◊〉 But h●d his eyes beheld the 〈…〉 P●sture face 〈…〉 Pure as he● simple Beauty such a one Was patterne for his Pencill or else none To be particular I should 〈◊〉 Foe to my 〈…〉 But what my 〈…〉 Expect in 〈…〉 His vertues are too many for to be Composed in a weeping Elegie But he is dead that all-devouring death That scornes to give religious Monarchs breath An houre beyond his limits hath thought fit To use his power on thee may thy soule sit In Angells habitations while we Deplore thy death and blesse 〈◊〉 memory Since thou wert merit 〈◊〉 I crave That I may stick this 〈◊〉 on thy grave Where if the 〈◊〉 heavens please to raise Showres like my teares t will grow a 〈◊〉 〈…〉 Shee did 〈…〉 None but thy 〈…〉 For there 〈…〉 Eclips'd each 〈◊〉 making midday night Blacke night worse waters may yee ever be Vs'd to make beauty blacke so curs'd by me May never discontents of 〈◊〉 life In greefe-afflicted bosomes if their eyes Bannish you thence for when your f●oods are spent There shall not be a cause for discontent Rest peaceably sweete boy though to us dead Iove shall for thee exchange his Ganemed An Elegie and Epitaph on his Mistresse Fidelia PAtience the great Physitio● of the minde Hath lost his Art for no balme can he finde To give me cure there is no Patience left It is a vertue which the gfd bereft With my Fidelia and since shee is gone What good is left me but distraction Yet in her name I doe a vertue finde Charmes all my senses tells my raging minde Shee hath but left the earth for 〈◊〉 to try What throne the Gos prepare for shee and I. Which having done I then shall heare from her By that supreame commanding Harbinger That summons Princes Qureenes religio●s Kings To cast off earth and put on 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 My soule thus 〈…〉 I le waite and write thus on her mo●●ment The Epitaph In this Marble buried l●es Beauty may enrich the skyes And adde light to Phoebus eyes Sweeter then Aurora's ayre When shee paints the Lillyes faire And gilds Cowslips with her haire Chaster then the virgin Spring Ere her blossomes shee doth bring Or cause Philomell to sing If such goodnesse bye mongst men Bring me to it I know then Shee is come from 〈◊〉 agen But if not yee st●nde●s by Cherish me and say that I Am the next design'd to dye An 〈…〉 his Mistresse Arbella YEe are too quick yee Pioners of death To execute your charge I have yet breath Struggles within my labouring brest to come And sigh and hasty Epic●dium On my Arbella Oh what stupid sleepe Ceazes your faculties you doe not weepe Your selves to restlesse rivolers my eyes Must act alone Arbella's obsequies Doe you want common sense how can you heare Arbella nam'd dead nam'd and shed no teare Know you not how to weepe pray looke on me Methinks each man should be a Niobe 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 They will pollute her beauty 〈◊〉 them have A wealthy banquet in some 〈◊〉 grave● Yet they may stay for if 〈…〉 Her beauteous cheekes they 〈◊〉 by famine dye 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 〈…〉 FINIS Rosa. Violetta● Aurora Honoria Millescent Castara Bellara Eliza. Beata Thalia Eglentina Dulcella Ambrosia Columbina Candora Fidelia Anabella Musea Lucella Vrania Blacke Blinde Wrinckled Crooked Love The losses Religion Wisdome Reason Faith Hope and Charitie Love Honor. Manhood Contra Sola