Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	body_n	grave_n	soul_n	8,304	5	5.4298	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A04138	Mirrha the mother of Adonis: or, Lustes prodegies. By William Barksted. Horrace. Nansicetur enim pretium, nomenque poetæ. Whereunto are added certaine Eglogs. By L.M.	Barksted, William, fl. 1611.; Machin, Lewis, fl. 1609.	1607 (1607)	STC 1429; ESTC S118847	20,491	80

with Tirian purple skin of beast Perfume her waies with choice Arabian smells Present her with the Phoenix in her nest Delight her eare with song of poets rare All these with Cyneas might naught compare The comfort of the minde being tane away Nectar not pleaseth nor Ambrosia The feast of Bacchus at this present time Was by the giddie Menades intended There Mirrha daunc'd and Orpheu● sung in rim● crownd with green thirses now y e 〈◊〉 yūhes ended with praise to Bacchus all depart with spright vnto their feastes feasts that deuoure the night for loe the stars in trauaile in the skie brought forth their brightnes to each waking ey● High midnight came and she to bedward hies pretending rest to beguile natures rest Anon the gloomy gallerie she spies toward her chamber and she first that blest Her care-fild eyes her farhers picture was Arm'd but the face although it dumbe alasse she ask'd and if he call'd seeing no reply she answer'd for her father and said I. Daughter quoth she why art thou thus alone Let Doues so mourn girle y t hath lost their mates Thine is to come then prethee cease thy mone Care shold not dwel with great high estates Let her that needs and is not faire at all Repine at fortune loue shall be thy thrall wing'd as he is and armed thou shalt see I haue the power to giue giue him thee Father quoth she and spoke with smaller voice Nature hath made me yours yours I must be You choose my choice for in you lies my choice Hereat shee starts as what not feares the guiltie Thinking the shadowe knew her double sence and blushing in strange feare departeth thence blaming her selfe for vttering her blacke fault to him who armed stood gainst her assault Anon she spies many a you●hfull Lord In seuerall Tables each in seuerall guise Whose pictures they had sent with one accord To shew their manly features to her eyes Whose dumb'd perswasiue images were plac'd To see if any in her lookes were grac'd But heere in vaine their faire assayes doe proue for had they spake they could not win her loue Ouer her Mothers shape a vaile she drew and weeping saide may I nere see thee more Poore abus'd image doost not turne thy hew to see so foule an obiect thee before Didst thou but know what 's sprung from out thy wombe thy shap cold speak whilst y u thy self stodst dūbe Art would claime Nature in thy heauie woes thy shape haue limbs thy limbs be stiff as those Anon she leapt on it with ardent heate and full of teares yet falles vppon her backe Wishing euen in that griefe the lustfull feate Were now pe●form'd woemen oft longings lack ●own sunck the down and with so deep impresse ●hat had Hermaphroditus bin there he might ges Salmacis were aganie his prostitute or one more farre then to denie her suite A strange conceite had now possest hir braine nie equall to her lust thought innocent She gaue vp to desire and leapes amaine From the bruisd bed with bloodie fram'd intēt To hang her selfe O me moste wofull theame She now espide an hie and sturdie beame Many staue liu'd to an vnpittied death who might haue dyed sometimes with famed breath Yet doth she thinke what terror death would be and on her heart imprints his Character Faine would she die yet first would pleased be with damned lust which death could not deter O sinne saies she thou must be Natures slaue In spight of Fate goe to a pleasing graue When I haue sin'd send Ioue a thunder stroake and spare thy chosen tree the harmlesse Oake She thinkes againe and sees nor time nor place to quench the thirstines of her parched blood Time still ranne on with an auerted face and nothing but her passions did her good This thought confoundes her and she is resoul'd In deathes bleake azure armes to be inuoul'd Fates you are women saue your modesties shee le kill her selfe you neede but close her eies ●nd like as when some suddaine extasie ● seisth the nature of a sicklie man When hee 's discernd to swoune straite by and by Folke by his ●elpe confusedly haue ran ●nd seeking with their art to fetch him backe To many throng that he the ayre doth lacke ●o Mirrha's thoughts confusedly did stound her some adding cōfort whilst the rest confound her ●ike to a fountaines head so shew'd her head from whence since passion first tooke hold of hir ●wo springs did run thorow each flowr-fil'd mead at her lips staid where shee wisht Cynir Would so haue done her face with teares run ore ●ike Hebaes Nectar shew'd spilt on heauens flore ●or as the blomes in May the dewe drops beares 〈◊〉 Mirrha's cheeks look'd sprinkl'd with her tears Her haire that with such diligence was vsde To be kemb'd vp did like clowdes appeare Where many spangles star-like were infus'd To attend the lustre of so bright ●haire Whose beames like bright Arachnes web cōpos● Taught Pallas a new enuie now vnlosed hiding her face yet making it seeme rarer as blazing Commets traine makes the star faire● Dispaire that teacherh holy ones to die when as affliction ministers her part Had breathing now in Mirrha and well nie Like Venus made her graspe a flaming heart Cupid was borne at Etna a hot sprite Whose violence takes edge off from delight For men deepe louing oft themselues so waste that proffer'd dainties they want power to tast● Digresse no farthe● least thou proue obsceane but tell by this how Nurse had broke the dore And trembling both through age and feare Forgot the naturall sence she had before Yet with her out-cries from the shades of death ●ald Mirrhas spright who with vnwilling breath re-enters flesh scorning to giue it grace with wonted beautie that adorn'd her face ●he tooke the haltar and held vp her chin chasing her temples with a violent heate Making her soule returne with torments in ●as it went out being come vnto retrait Nurse heau'd her trembling body on the bed Where sinking as in graue she seemed dead Chast had my verse bin blessed Mirrhas hap if here my pen could write thy Epitaph When hauing gotten ope her heauie eyes life-mocking death with a fresh crimson hew she thus be spake if there be sorceries Philters inchauntments any furi● new That can inspire with irrelegious fire The brest of mortall that vntam'd desire Possesseth me and all my bodies merrit Shewes like a faire house haunted with a spirit The foure and twentie windes are not so fierce as what doth blow the fewel in my breast Not the soft oyle Appollo did disperse on Phaitons brow to keep his sun-beam'd 〈◊〉 From face of heauenly fires could ought preuai● Gainst raging brāds which my poore heart 〈◊〉 scorch'd with materiall flames wee soone do 〈◊〉 and to purge sins we imbrace purgatorie But this a heate that nor in life or death can render any humor but dispaire Nor can it with the short cut of my

MIRRHA THE Mother of Adonis OR Lustes Prodegies By William Barksted Horrace Nansicetur enim pretium nomenque Poetae Whereunto are added certaine Eglogs By L.M. LONDON Printed by E. A. for Iohn Bache and are to be sold at his shop in the Popes-head Palace nere the Royall Exchange 1607. To his belooued the Author PRaise where so er 't be found if it be due Shall no vaine cullour neede to set it foorth Why should I idely then extoll the worth Which heere dere friend I finde belong to you And if I er'd full well the learned knewe How wide amisse my marke I taken had Since they distinguish can the good from bad And through the varnish well discerne the hewe Be glad therefore this makes for you and knowe When wiser Readers heere shall fixe their sight For vertues sake they will doe vertue right So shalt thou not Friend vnrewarded goe Then boldly on good fortune to thy Muse Should all condemne thou canst as well excuse I. W To his Louing friend and Kinsman W. B. THamis nere heard a Song equall to this Although the Swan that ow'd this present qui● sung to that Eccho her owne Epitaph As proude to die and render vp her wing To Venus Swan who doth more pleasing sing Produce thy worke tell the powerfull tale Of naked Cupid and his mothers will My selfe I doe confine from Helicon As loath to see the other Muses nine So imodestlie eye shoot and gaze vppon Their new borne enuie this tenth Muse of thine Which in my selfe I doe in thee admire As Aesops Satire the refulgent fire Which may me burn I mean with amorous flame● In reading as the kissing that did him And happie Mirrha that he rips thy shame Since he so queintly doth expresse thy sin Many would write but see mens workes so rar● That of their owne they instantly dispaire Robert Glouer To his esteemed friend W. B. NOt for our friendship or for hope of gaine Doth my pen run so swiftly in thy praise Court-seruile flatterie I doe disdaine Enuie like Treason stil it selfe betraies This worke Detractions sting doth disinherit He that giues thee all praise giues but thy merrit Lewes Machin To his respected friend W. B. POet nor art thou without due desert stil'd by that name Though folly smile and enuy frowne to heare the same Yet those who read thy worke with due respect Will place thee with the worthiest of that sect Then let not ignorance nor enuie mooue thee Thou hast done well they do not that reproue thee Yet some true worth nere wants an opposite will Carpers be Grieue not at this not vertues selfe can scape their obloquie But giue the raynes vnto these baser spirits Whose Iudgements cannot paralell thy merrits Such fooles to seeme iudicious take in hand To censure what they doe not vnderstand Yet cannot they detract or wrong thy worth maugre their spight For thou doost chaunt incestuous Myrrha forth with such delight And with such gouldē phrase gild ' store her crime That what 's moste diabolicall seemes deuine and who so but begins the same to reade Each powerfull line attracts him to proceede Then since he best deserues the Palme to weare Who wins the same Doe thou alone inioy those sweets which beare thy Mirrhas name And euer weare in memorie of her an anademe of odoriferous Mirrhe and let Apollo thinke it no dispraise To weare thy Mirrhe ioyne it with his bayes William Bagnall MIRRHA The Mother of Adonis I Sing the ruine of a beautious Maide White as my paper or loues fairest Doue shine bright Apollo Muse be not affraide Although thou chauntest of vnnaturall loue Great is my quill to bring foorth such a birth as shall abash the Virgins of our earth smoake Goulden censors vpon Paphos shrine drinke deep Lenae●s to this worke of mine Cupid to Thracia went to heare a Song of Orpheus to whome euen Tygers came And left their sauage Nature if there long they did with hi● sweet Melodie remaine Wolues lost their preyes and by signes praid hi●●in● Beasts left the Lyon and chose him their King Cecropian Apes did on his musicke waite Yet of them all not one could immitate T is saide when Orpheus dyed he did descend To the infernall so the Furies boast Where now they giue him leaue his eies to bend without all feare on her whome he once lost By a regardant looke but t is not so Ioue not reseru'd such musicke for belowe But placed him amongst celestiall stars To keep the Scorpion Lyon Beare from Iars For euer since the fall of Phaeton that then displaced them they were at strife For their degrees till his alluring Tone who though in death hath the office of his life Though more diuinely and where he attracts More glorious bodies to admire his actes Faire stranger shape of creature and of beast With his concordant tunes plac'd them in rest The Dittie was and Cupid lent an eare Vpon the death of his Euridice Which still he sung as if his former feare Of loosing her was now or else would be The Eccho beate the noyse vp to the Spheares And to his passionate song Gods bent their eares It was a signe he was new come from hell Their tunes so sad he immitates so well Such passion it did strike vpon the earth that Daphnes roote groan'd for Apollo's wrong Hermophrodite wept s●ewers and wisht his birth had neuer bin or that he more had clung To Salmacis and Clitie grieued in vainet Leueothoes wrong the occasion of her baine my wilful eie this should the burthen be Hath rob'd me of twice slaine Euridice Cicnus stil proud though he confuted be for Phaetons losse would needs afresh complain● Thinking therewith to singe as sweet as he but pittiles he sung and dyed in vaine Eccho was pleas'd with voice resounding brim as proud to loose her shape to answer him Hether resorted more then wel could heare but on my Muse speake what chansed there Amongst the rest of Vesta-vowed Girles came ●irrha whose thoughts no guile then knew Like a bright diamond circled with pearls whose radiant eye delt lustre to the hew Of all the dames whose face so farre aboue though the rest beautious all vnwounded made loue loue for neuer since Spiches was made a star did he see nature excel art so far He chāg'd his shape his wings he oft hath torne and like a hunter to this nimph he came With gold tipt Iauelin and a bugle Horne such as they beare to make the Lyon tame First did he kisse hir hand which then did melt with loue 's impression Cupid the like felt Stroke dumbe he stood in an vnwonted guise such magicke beawtie carries in her eies At length quoth he should I not say I loue I should both Cupid and his Mother wrong By thee faire Maid a power farre aboue My heart is the true index of my ●ongue And by my naked wordes you may discouer I am not traded like a