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	heart_n	soul_n	4,780	5	4.6461	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A56293	Orpheus Britannicus, A collection of all the choicest songs for one, two, and three voices compos'd by Mr. Henry Purcell ; together with such symphonies for violins or flutes, as were by him design'd for any of them, and a through-bass to each song, figur'd for the organ, harpsichord, or theorbo-lute ...; Vocal music. Selections	Purcell, Henry, 1659-1695.	1698 (1698)	Wing P4218; ESTC R231719	79,791	448

still make it my Endeavours to go on with so Laudable an Undertaking I might indeed make my Compliments in relation to the greatness of my Expences in being Beneficial to the Publick and Expose some People that build upon my Foundation but as I desire the Readers Candour it 's my Business to make use of it in Respect to others only I shall take notice I have more than enough Discouragement to drop the pursute of Obliging my Country since Foreigners meet with a reception that is inconsistent with the Interest of one that has the Honour to be a Native But let 'em Undersell me as long as they please and Transplant their Foreign Musick into these Climates the Judicious will be of my side when they make an Estimate of Mr. Purcell's Works which are equal to those of the Best Masters of Italy and conclude that I who have now made a compleat Collection of all his Choicest Performances deserve a better Entertainment from the Hands of the Publick than any Pretenders whatsoever H. P. On the DEATH of the late Famous Mr. HENRY PVRCELL Author of the First and Second Books of Orpheus Britannicus MAke room ye happy Natives of the Sky Room for a Soul all Love and Harmony A Soul that rose to such Perfection here It scarce will be advanc'd by being there Whether to us by Transmigration given He once was an Inhabitant of Heav'n And form'd for Musick with Diviner Fire Endu'd Compos'd for the Celestial Choir Not for the Vulgar Race of Light to hear But on High-days to glad th' Immortal Ear. So in some leisure hour was sent away Their Hour is here a Life a Thousand Years their Day Sent what th' Aetherial Musick was to show And teach the wonders of that Art below Whether this might not be the Muse appeals To his Composures where such Magick dwells As Rivals Heav'nly Skill and human Pow'r excels Vile as a Sign-post Dauber's Painting show's Compar'd with Titian's Work or Angelo's Languid and low as Modern Rhime appears When Virgil's matchless Strain has tun'd our Ears So seem to him the Masters of our Isle His Inspiration theirs but Mortal Toil They to the Ear he to the Soul does dive From Anger save and from Despair revive Not the smooth Spheres in their Eternal Rounds The work of Angels warble softer Sounds What is that Heav'n of which so much we hear The happy Region gain'd with Praise and Pray'r What but one unmolested Transport which No Notion or Idea e'er cou'd reach As it appears in Vision 't is but this To be opprest with Joy and strive with Bliss Confounded with the Rays of ceaseless day We know not what we think or see or say Endless Profusion Joy without decay So when his Harmony arrests the Far We lose all thought of what or how or where Like Love it warms like Beauty does controul Like hidden Magick seizes on the whole And while we hear the Body turns to Soul From what blest Spring did he derive the Art To sooth our Cares and thus command the Heart Time list'ning stands to hear his artful Strain And Death does at the Dying throw his shafts in vain Fast to th' Immortal part the Mortal cleaves Nor till he leave to Charm the Body leaves Less Harmony than his did raise of Old The Theban Wall and made an Age of Gold How in that Mystick order cou'd he join So different Notes make Contraries combine And out of Discord cull such Sounds Divine How did the Seeds ly quickning in his Brain How were they born without a Parent 's Pain He did but Think and Musick wou'd arise Dilating Joy as Light o'erspreads the Skies From an Immortal Source like that it came But Light we know this Wonder wants a Name What art thou From what Causes dost thou spring O Musick thou Divine Mysterious thing Let me but know and knowing give me Voice to Sing Art thou the warmth in Spring that Zephire breaths Painting the Meads and whistling thro' the Leaves The happy Season that all Grief exiles When God is Pleas'd and the Creation smiles Or ar't thou Love that Mind to Mind imparts The endless Concord of agreeing Hearts Or ar't thou Friendship yet a nobler Flame That can a dearer way make Souls the same Or ar't thou rather which dos all transcend The Centre where at last the Blest ascend The Seat where Halelujah's never end Corporeal Eyes won't let us clearly view But either thou art Heav'n or Heav'n is you And thou my Muse how e'er the Criticks blame Pleas'd with his Worth and faithful to his Fame Art Musick while y' are hallowing Purcell's Name On other Subjects you Applause might miss But Envy will it self be Charmd with this How oft has Envy at his Ayrs been found T' admire enchanted with the Blissful sound Ah! cou'd you quite forget his early Doom I wou'd not from the Rapture call you home But gently from your steepy height descend You 've prais'd the Artist and now mourn the Friend Ah most unworthy shou'd we leave unsung Such wondrous Goodness in a Life so young In spight of Practice he this Truth has shown That Harmony and Vertue shou'd be one So true to Nature and so just to Wit His Musick was the very Sense you Writ Nor were his Beauties to his Art confin'd So justly were his Soul and Body join'd You 'd think his Form the Product of his Mind A Conqu'ring sweetness in his Vizage dwelt His Eyes wou'd warm his Wit like Lightning melt But those no more must now be seen and that no more be felt Pride was the sole aversion of his Eye Himself as Humble as his Art was High Ah! let him Heav'n in Life so much ador'd Be now as universally Deplor'd The Muses Sigh'd at his approaching Doom Amaz'd and raving as their own were come Art try'd the last Efforts but cou'd not save But sleep O sleep in an unenvy'd Grave In Life and Death the noblest Fate you share Poets and Princes thy Companions are And both of 'em were thy Admirers here There rest thy Ashes but thy nobler Name Shall soar aloft and last as long as Fame Nor shall thy Worth be to our Isle confin'd But flie and leave the lagging day behind Rome that did once extend its Arms so far Y 'ave conquer'd in a nobler Art than War To its proud Sons but only Earth was giv'n But thou hast triumph'd both in Earth and Heav'n And now Farewel nor Fame nor Love nor Art Nor Tears avail we must for ever part For ever dismal Accent what alone But that can tell our Loss or reach our Moan What term of Sorrow Preference dare contend What but the tenderest dearest name of Friend Hail him ye Angels to the Elisian Shoar The noblest Freight that ever Charon bore Tho Orpheus and Amphion pass'd before His Skill as far exceeds as had his Name Been known as long he wou'd have done in Fame Tho the wide Globe for tuneful Souls you cull Hope no