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
A85056	A funerall elegie upon the deplorable and much lamented death of the Right Honourable Robert Deveruex [sic] late Earle of Essex and Ewe, Viscount of Hereford, Lord Ferrers of Chartley, Bourchier and Lovaine, late Lord Generall of the Parliaments forces, whose hearse was solemnly solemnized on Thursday the two and twenty day of October, 1646. Being conueied [sic] from Essex-House to VVestwinster-Abby, where his body was interred.		1646 (1646)	Wing F2534; Thomason 669.f.10[94]; ESTC R210638	1,286	1

A Funerall Elegie upon the deplorable and much lamented Death of the Right Honourable Robert Devervex late Earle of Essex and Ewe Vicunt of Hereford Lord Ferrers of Chartley Bourchier and Loviane late Lord Generall of the Parliaments Forces whose Hearse was solemnely solemnized on Thursday the two and twenty day of October 1646. Being conueied from Essex-House to VVestminster-Abby where his Body was interred THe Easterne Essex bright resplendant Sun Now in the West is set his course is run Although grim Death hath tane his Life away His Honour and his Fame shall live for aye For Death he hath outdar'd as all men knowes Both on the Sea and Laud to meet his Foes His Auncitors were all brave Men of Warre Whose valient acts were knowne both neere and far His House proclaimed by the Trumpe of Fame There 's few but weepe to heare of Essex name The many Victories that he hath won Doth shew that he was valient Mars his Son He in the head of all his Troopes did lead Nor thundring Cannon Bullets nere did dread His way he cut through his fierce Enemy Who at his presence did so often fly He bore the brunt at first in thi● fierce VVar And in the VVest shone like a Blasing-star Though he was Va●ient yet he blood did hate And still was trusty to the Weale and State So wise so provident so bounteous so free That prou'd what every hopefull Soule should bee Vnto the meanest Souldier of his Band He still was courteous though he did command To save his Men he alwayes had a care And in all miseries with them take share In his proceedings he was resolute Incouraging his valiant Horse and Foote Which so inflaim'd their hearts with hot desire That they would raither dye then to retire Truly Religious he was alwayes found Mild temperate and of a Iudgement sound He was woe worth the losse ambitious more To climbe with Vertue then aspire with store A compleat Generall was Essex still Which made his Souldiers to obey his will His stout Commanders all for him doe mourne With droping hearts they bring him to his Vrne Rivers of reares run flowing from their eyes When they did celebrate his Obsequies In fable Weedes a mournfull march they tread And sighing say brave Essex he is dead But stay weepe not for hee 's alive againe And with Christ Iesus doth triumph and reigne Teares are the outward signes of inward sorrowes Mankind to Nature renders what it borrowes Ah brittle Nature doth thy toyle depend On frailty as where you begun to end Lillies and Roses doe decay and perish Whilst bitter Wormewood and sharpe Nettles flourish Hee 's dead oh bitter word of Souldiers prime That in his life prou'd Honour to the time This sinfull Globe af meere mortalitie He now hath left and did transcend the Skie Passing the Orbes of all the Planets seven And Fixed-Starres whose Soule is fixt in Heaven In that Celestiall Paradise of Ioy Whereas the Spirit never feels anoy There 's alwaies cheerfull Day and never Night A●waies beholding of Gods glory bright All Ioy no Sorrow and Mirth without measure No Sicknesse Sorrow but all Heavenly pleasure No Death no Weeping nor no Miserie M●kenes and Concord with sweet Harmonie Here God doth reigne with Heavenly Angells bright Which to behold is a most glorious siight Essex his Soule 's in Heaven cease to weepe Although his Body in the Grave doth sleepe We m●urne on Earth he ioyeth with his Maker A Soule in blisse is of no griefe Parraker For he is gone in better parts to dwell He bid the World good morrow and farewell Finis LONDON Printed by John Hammond 1646.