Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A19528
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The poetical recreations of Mr. Alexander Craig of Rosecraig
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Craig, Alexander, 1567?-1627.
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1609
(1609)
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STC 5959; ESTC S105002
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11,162
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33
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And wilt thou needst sweet Sant be gone and so Bereaue south-Britan of so rare a blis Yes thou must go J see there is no stay And take ten thousand Thousand hearts away Take then my heart my better part with thee My wishes vow's my prayers all these all For J am thine devoted till J die And still shall beare the bloodie yock as thrall And when my head shall turne to hoarie gray The world shall see that I shall serue An Hay A DISSVVASION TO HIS friend from his intended mariage FAir famous I le where Zoroastres raign'd Where Bactru◠once the statelie cittie stood VVhich when th'ould name Artaspe was disdain'd VVas Bactria cal'd from fertill Bactrus flood VVhere some-time Ceter Arams sonne began Of thousand citties the foundation sure In thee the wyues abuse the maried man And both with slaue and stranger play the whoore The Dame with Distaff beats her yeelding Lord And for her pryde but punishment skaips free And poore Acteon dare not speak one word From Bactrian wyues the Lord deliver thee Nor lead a life infamous heart-brock thrall Far better were to wed no wife at all A DESCRIPTION OF A PARdond yet still vnrepenting proditor Plexirtus WHen false and proud Plexirtus did conspire His King and Lord Leonat to dethrone He found the fates were foes to his desire At last when all his bastard-hopes were gone A halter fair about his hals he tyes And on the Prince for pardon still he cryes The Clement King Leonat was contented To pardon all his faults and foull offences And yet we read the Rebell noght repented Saue that he could not practize his pretenses It 's pittie then the Prince can not perceaue Plexirtus was and will be still a knaue EPITAPH OF IOHN FIRST MARques of Hammilton BLest was thy life and blessed didst thou die Thy Oyle was burning and thy Lamp gaue light VVhen lifes prowd foe pale death did summond thee To render earth her due and heavens their right Thogh death did then thy soule and bodie sever Once thou shalt be conjoind and liue for ever Aliud HEre rests within this Tomb of truth th'vnm atched zeale The father the faithful friēd of Church cōmon wel In storme and calme inclind to doe his Kings command Of peace the parent child of Mars cheef glorie of the land FORTVNA SAEVO LAETA NEGOtio transmutat incertos honores STrange are the changes of this changing age The cloun turns knight the knight again turns colun Now is he Lord who was of late a page And he that threatned all is now thrown doun Thrise happie he whose heart can be content To serue his God in peace with sober rent To his afflicted friend IN wether fair and in a temperat spring The waikest bird with warbling songs will soare But in a srtome or winters rage to sing With mirrie notes deserues a praise much more Thy spring is gone thy winter growes O than Sing sweetlie now and shew thy selfe a man To his fortunate friend THe Fox and Kat were walking by the way As Aesop fains and lo for all his wits The Fox became to hungrie hounds a pray Whilst in a trie the Kat securlie sits Since Foxes false dear friend must fall and die Climb with the Kat and make the truth thy trie Vivitur parvo bene HE that can walk on ground that 's fair and plane Shall seldome fall or if he chance to fall He measures but his lenth he 'ill rise agane And haue no harme nor any hurt at all But he must fall of force that climbs too hie And if he fall it 's ten to one he 'ill die Heigh hoised sailes giue vantage to the srtome And if thy state be stately large and fair The farer mark for mischief to deforme With spightfull sport proud Fortun play 's her there Fair marks are hit with shots and shafts mischivous Which make the wounds more deep much more grievous Contented Codrus with his Cuntrie Dame Suppose his Farme were set on fire he fear 's not His wife and he will warme them with the flame Come what can come his compts are cast he cares not Jf want and wealth were alwaies at my will Away with wealth let me be Codrus still A Prayer for his imprisoned friend THe famous Persians had a forme we reed That if a Noble were condemd to dee They spar'd himselfe and hang'd his cloaths with speed Poore prisoner God grant the like to thee Vcalegon his house is set on fire A neighbor kinde wold quench lest it burne nyer When Pollio proud did to his feast requyre Augustus Caesar at a solemne time He needs wold kill a serving slaue in yre For breaking of a banquet glasse small crime But Caesar said poore slaue thou shalt not d ee Th' offence is naght feare is eneugh for thee To Idea for his long absence ATtilius ruler of the Roman host Beg'd leaue his wife and children deare to see His poore effairs he did performe with post And made returne with all the hast might bee He was for this no run-away but rather A loving husband and a faithfull father J haue like him wise Dame at home a wife With whom in peace the poasting hours I spend Yet will J loue thee whill J haue a life And till J die my loue shall never end My poore Adoes withdraw me oft from thee Yet where thou art my heart shall ever bee To eloquent Erantina CLeombrotus a Heathen man did heare Wise Plato with such reverence and respeck As for the loue he to his lessons beare He went abrod kinde man and brok his neck Thy charming words inchant me so that J Doe nothing now but mourne sigh weep and die To his absent and loving Lesbia DEare heart dear heart dear dear dear heart againe More dear then writ can shew or waxe can seale O! if thou knew the care the woe the paine I felt since last I tooke from thee fair-well The night in black chimerick thoghts I spend Ere Phlegon rise I wish the day to end The dark is lothsome and the day semes long Because alas J am not where thou art This is not mine but frowning Fortunes wrong Yet hope deare heart vp-holds my dying heart Look then for me before few dayes take end Till when my thoghts to thine I doe commend To absent Idea WIth puissant pow'r when princely Pompey went And made him for Pharsalic battell bowne With heavie hearts his sogeors did lament And oft look'd back to Rome their natiue towne Each in him selfe a civil combat felt To leaue the place wher friends wiues childrē dwelt I may for this be deem'd a Roman borne I am so full of kindnesse and of loue In deepest sort deare heart I dare be sworne My minde from thee no distance may remoue And for thy sake beare witnesse naked God I loue thy Bonus wherein thou mak'st abod To Idea at her bownes AH whither now sweet Sant art thou retired Souls-raviser alas