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	heaven_n	soul_n	11,370	5	5.1820	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A84343	An elegie, vpon the much lamented death of that renovvned and ever to be honour'd patriot of his countrey John Pym Esquire lievtenant of the ordnance, and a Member of the honourable House of Commons.		1643 (1643)	Wing E484C; Thomason 669.f.8[43]; ESTC R212162	1,508	1

AN ELEGIE Vpon the much lamented Death of that Renowned and ever to be Honour'd Patriot of his Countrey JOHN PYM Esquire Lievtenant of the Ordnance and a Member of the Honourable House of Commons IT will not be our sinnes doe yet out-cry Our prayers as if we aim'd at Misery Still we decline and our calamities Insensibly steale on us by degrees That being more secure our Judgment may Appeare more horrid at our payment day How many glorious Starrs have shot of late From the inconstant sphere of our sad State Spangled ere while with happy lights from whence We hop'd and found auspicious influence But now depriv'd of their rich splendor we Freeze in the shadow of despaire and die Am I design'd griefes servant that my Pen Thrice vow'd to silence should be rais'd agen I call no Muse my mother yet am still Babling out Elegiack Notes my Quill N'ere dipt in Agavippe sorrow calls To pay its Tribute at sad Funeralls But oh what Muse can lend a straine t' expresse The measure of this dayes unhappinesse What wing may yeeld a quill which can compose Fit Characters of sorrow or who knowes What kind of sorrow there is fit to be Exercis'd at such Scenes of misery Teares are too common every petty losse Exacts that duty every trifling crosse Sighs are poore empty things and aiery Verse An ornament t' enrich a vulgar Herse Unlesse we could shed teares of blood and sigh Our lives breath out unto his memory Or breath our soules forth in sad numbers these Indeed are griefes fit Ephemerides What lesse can suit the obsequies of him Who spent himself for us whose eyes grew dim In searching out our buried Liberties Who in pursuance of the Kingdoms peace Contracted many deaths and by his care Purchast diseases holding nothing deare Advance the publike who to speake in few To save his Countrey his owne body slew For which his soule translated to the blisse Of Heav'n with Angels there instated is Where now a spotlesse Saint he sweetly sings Lond Halelujahs to the King of Kings Where he above the reach of humane spight Enjoys the comforts of the Son of light NOw you bold Imps of fury who shall now Pluck that bright wreath of glory from his brow Who shall receive the Guerdon of his fall Or preach State-Treason at his Funerall Now you may raile and curse and threat whilst he Derides your malice scornes your tyranny Now you may lie and sweare and for sweare too To blast his Name more then Hells selfe can doe He from the glorious Throne of happinesse Laughs at your poore revenge and gladly sees The booke of Conscience spread before his eyes Where all the actions which your perjuries Call Treason and injustice be beholds Flourish't with glory in bright lines of Gold Presented there unto the God of Peace Most perfect through his Saviours worthynesse There rests his soule his body let us lay With mournfull tryumphs in its bed of clay About which since pale death by fates decree Hath drawn the Curtaines of Mortality That after ages may this losse bemoan Trouble the Herse with this Inscription HEre lyes the Pillar of the English State The Peoples violent love their greatest hate His Countreys Patriot Religions friend Lawes Champion one that dared to defend Just Liberty against Prerogative That scorn'd his Countrey perishing to live That durst impeach the bosome favorite Of 's Prince and against greatnesse maintaine right That hated Honour bought with flattery And did the favours of a King deny To keep his faith with Heav'n that dar'd professe Virtue in th' age and Land of wickednesse That singly durst make power doe any thing Allow'd by Heav'n and this against a King This did he yet with this he did maintaine A soule so Loyall to his Soveraigne That had a Trayterous thought but mov'd within There it had judg'd and executed bin A Man so good that t' was imputed to him A sin and that alone which did undoc him Full fraught with Wisdome Virtue Grace Of parts admir'd of gentle race A Noble mind a pious heart Humility with great desert Curtesie bounty innocence A pleasant wit voyd of offence Here lyes in short whatever can Be cal'd perfection in a Man All these lie here compriz'd in one Alasse where shall they harbour now hee 's gone