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	mean_v	soul_n	5,173	5	5.5842	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A13797	Alba The months minde of a melancholy louer, diuided into three parts: by R.T. Gentleman. Hereunto is added a most excellent pathetical and passionate letter, sent by Duke D'Epernoun, vnto the late French King, Henry the 3. of that name, when he was commanded from the court, and from his royall companie. Translated into English by the foresaid author.	Tofte, Robert, 1561-1620.; Epernon, Jean-Louis de Nogaret de La Valette, duc d', 1554-1642.	1598 (1598)	STC 24096; ESTC S111433	52,678	150

ride Creator of all Creatures that do liue Whose Loue was such as thou for Man hast dide Though he thee hated skorned and did grieue Vouchsafe to view and rue my desprate state And me once more from sinne regenerate Ah looke vpon me with milde Mercies eye Clense me with purest Water of thy Grace Remember not how I haue gone awry Since I renounce to runne more such a Race Ah glorious Spouse thy Beautie I desire For now to He●uen not Earth my Thoughts aspire Griefe that was once farre off remou'd from me Begins as now for to approach me nere Clad in his Weedes which Black and fearf●ll be And crownde with fatall Cypresse doth appeare With wringing Hands he doth bewaile my ruth And mournes that I haue straide so wide frō Truth Reason the Cochman to my wandring Thought As in a Christall glasse doth shew most plaine My gazing eyes how I haue fondly wrought Spending my Time in Toyes and Fancies vaine He shew'th me now another Nouell LOVE Another path wherein my feete to moue As One who in his Trauaile doth espie By chance a hideous Serpent or foule Snake That long before vnseene did closely lie Behinde some stub where he his Nest did make Shaking his three-forkt hissing tongue apace Quickly himselfe retireth from that place So I by louing wrong vnhappie Wight Hauing amisse straide long time and awrie When I at last of Death had but a sight Although farre off yet backward gan I hie Backward I came with hastie speedie foote Leauing that Course which I at first had tooke Thou w●ndring Spirit to whom Ioue doth commit Of this my Body fraile the gouernment Why gadding thus from Truth so farre dost flit Why are thine eyes with wilfull blindnes pent Why dost not marke what Danger is at hand What damned Death doth at thine elbow stand Ah be not flattred with this poysenous LOVE But call thy former Wits to thee againe Those wicked Thoughts roote out and hence remoue Whilst Life in thee to do it doth remaine What Mortall is by mortall Death suppresse Thy Gaine shall be the more thy Losse the lesse Heauen once thy Mansion was and dwelling place Now Hell thou seekst by running thus astray Vnhappie Soule to be in such a case So wilfully to seeke thine owne Decay Thou woundst thy selfe to God a Rebbell th' art And only striu'st to please the World in Hart. Alas in whom now dost thou put thy trust On whom dost thou relie or hope on now Ah turne and still liue shalt thou with the Iust Ah turne againe and trebble blessed thou Thou then shalt be whereas the Blessed are Pure Soule mongst Soules mongst Stars a brightsome Starre What 's God The Sourse of Goodnes and the Sprin● What is that Goodnes Such a Goodnes sound As aye increaseth without perishing How is it made In frame and fashion Round Like to a Forme that in it doth containe His End and his Beginning in the same This Goodnes first from whence did it proceede Three proper Veines there be that forth do runne Out of one sacred Sea from Heauen decreede Which co●passe doth All what so ere sees Sunne Cannot we see it This ESSENCE most Diuine No Mortall Man hath seene at any time How can it then be if it neere be seene That i● our mindes oft lifteth vp on High As if in Vision we in Heauen had beene It makes vs view such Wonders with Faiths eye With Faith● cleere eye which shines to vs so bright As vnto Heauen it is our Guide and Light What is that Faith A Gift which if Defect In him that firme beleeueth be not found It blindfold leades him yet with steps direct Vnto that place where perfect Ioyes abound Where God the Father Sonne and Holy Ghost Doe raigne in Glorie great of Mightiest most Thou LIFE which Life art calde and yet art Death Thou DEATH which Death art termde and yet art Life Say which of you maintaine my v●tall breath Within thi● wretched Vale of Worldly strife Say which prolongs my Life most of you Twaine Or thou LIFE or thou DEATH say both the same I more then LIFE straight DEATH doth answer make Nay I quoth LIFE farre more then DEATH to me And for this Cause this only Name I take Of LIFE which by my meanes alone can be Because whilst I within thy Body liue Death no way can thee hinder hurt or grieue But I by cutting off DEATH straight replies This slender Thred whereby Men runne their race Bring euery Faithfull soule in friendly wise Where he a better path for aye may trace Making him leade a Life eternallie A LIFE that still doth liue and neuer die Wherefore what ere he be that meanes to ioy This other LIFE that is Celestiall He mu●● not scorne to scape from worlds annoy Nor thinke it much to come when DEATH shall call For DEATH no● LIFE doth help vs at the end LIFE is our Foe but DEATH our dearest Friend All fraile most happie Day in blessed wise A Day of Griefe yet Honorable Day In which the Father did for Sacrifise Offer his Sonne to saue Man from decay Clensing our Soules defilde with sinfull mind With Innocent with pure and pretious Blood Vpon that Crosse now sacred then Prophane He ●ide for vs who could not dye indeede Whilst closing his fayre eyes for Mortals gaine He opened all the Gates of Heauen with speede Restoring them that Kingdome we had lost VVhich nothing Vs but Him too dearly cost Not his but our Due was it for to Die Those Torments which he meekly did endure His Crowne of Thornes his Wounds done spitefully That Cursed Scourge that spilt his Blood so pure All these to Vs and not to him did long Yet for our sakes our Christ himselfe did wrong Then if for pitie Graues do open wide Hils cleaue and Marble pillars rent in twaine If Heauens themselues their Lights for griefe do hide And if the Sunne for sorow clipst remaine VVhat Mortall hart is there that doth not breake VVhen he but thinks or of this Day doth speake That Vertue through whose power rulde is my soule Only through Vertuous Loue from Loue set free Takes force afresh as one that would controule And finding strong himselfe within to bee Vnbridled Will he seekes to bridle now And tries to breake what fore he scarce could bow New Lords new Lawes New Customes breake the Olde And where before a dark and mistie clowde My minde as in a prison did infolde Now is it loosde from out that gloomie shrowde My Hart doth iump euen iust with his desire And by their Eye know both what to require My watchfull Soule recouered hath well nie The former state in which he liued in And being free doth call to memorie VVhat bound he did forget through wretched sin VVhil●● for his life repentant he attends Immortally to liue for his amends Not any part there is of Bodie mine But filled is with true not false Delight Yet doth it grieue

doth her obscure Thy haires to Phoebus lightning in the Aire When he doth shine with greatest Luster pure Thy diamond eyes like to a frostie Night Where sparkling stars doe shooting take their flight Thy cheekes Aurora like when with her Dew The Rose and Lillie she doth sprinkle sweete Resembling drops that seeded Pearle doe shew As if that double Beautie did them greete Thy Hand no hand it is the daintie Gloue Which Psyches ware when she was wed to LOVE VVhat art thou but All faire in outward show But inwardly th' art Cruel and vnkinde In thy faire Face all Fauours sweet doe grow But Thornes and Briars in thy Hart I finde With s●ew of sweet thou lur'st and dost entise But bitterly thou makst them pay the price Thou cruell lead'st my life to dismall Death My hope from all her Ioyes thou dost confine Thou art the corde that stopst my vitall breath And Armes with Armes against me dost conioyne Thou only art the SHE that 's fenst with hate And dost thy selfe of pitie naked make Tirde with a Burthen of Extremities Which breakes not bowes my wofull Hart in twaine And checkt with chiefest Mate of Miseries I linger out my lothed life in paine Then death not life I may this liuing call Where ceasles Noy not ioy doth me befall Black gloomy Thoughts 〈◊〉 me doe tyrannise And to my Soule appoynted faithfull Guides Doe her deceiue with her they subtellise Nor in this ill to comfort me None bides All my best Hopes are at an Ebbing low Whilst stealing yeares with griefes encreasing grow What shall I doe shall I to reason turne Oh no for her I too much haue offended What shal I goe to LOVE and to him mourne For aide and promise all shall be amended Alas it were in vaine and labour lost Where he doth promise he deceiueth most See then ye fond Desires what you haue done By headstrong Will sage Reason to depraue But what shall I as now resolue vpon Whom shall I trust of whom helpe shall I craue Euen her who first betraide me will I trust She can but be as she hath been vniust Come gentle sleepe sweet sleepe my welcome Frend Come comfort me with shadow of my Loue And her in vision quickly to me send For whom these g●iefes and bitter pangs I proue Black Night be thou far darker then thou art Thy chiefest Beautie is to be most darke By thee my peace and pleasure doth arise Whilst I through thy deceit yet liking me Doe seeme to ioy with her in louely wise Although from hence God knowes far off she be Such is the pleasure that herein I take As more I could not ioy were I awake Thou shewst to me the trammels of her Haire Clept SCALA COELI locks of pure Delight Her snowy Neck the cause of my sweete Care Her eyes like Saphires sparkling in the night With ot●er sights vnseemly to be knowne Al these sweet sleep through thee to me are showne Only in this my thinks th' art too vnkinde That when thou partst from me all ioy doth part Nor any such thing left with me I finde Which then afresh renewes mine inwa●d smart Then since her selfe I waking cannot haue Sleeping let me her shadow of thee craue Like as the painefull Marchant venterer That is to leaue his sweetest natiue soyle Being bound vnto some strangy Countrie far Whome hope of gaine doth restles make to toyle Taking his leaue of his deare Familie Through feare hope makes them to liue and die But afterward when he hath crost the Seas Fraughting his ship with richest marchandise He then begins to frolicke Hearts at ease And hoyseth vp his sailes in cheerefull wise Searching by skill the shortest cut to take Of this his wearie iourney end to make When being almost tired at the last He is in kenning of his wished Home And when hauing of his Natiue Aire a taste Twixt ioy and griefe his very soule doth grone For griefe his Countrie he so long did in For ioy that Home he now returned is So fare I for when I doe call to minde The time in which my Libertie was lost I shed salt teares to thinke how I did binde My selfe being free as slaue vnto my cost But when I hope one day I shall be free Through my sweet Saint my hart doth leap for glee As many fierie darts as Ioue on high Dingde downe on Giants in his angrie mood So many whirle about my Bodie nigh As longing causeles for my guiltles blood The frighted Aire raine Ashes downe apace And cheerefull sunne flies hence to hide his face Thus stand I in a Maze of Miserie My Heart seeing nought but signes of present death Seekes how with clipped wings away to flie And faine would scape to saue his vitall breath Ah pouer wretch but how ●ft possible I know not how nor he himselfe can tell The world 's his foe and LOVE doth him betraie Despaire of helpe his senses doth confound His cursed Guide for nonce leades him astraie Fortune accuseth him on no sure ground And which doth gaule him most most doth grieue His Mistris rash gainst him doth iudgement giue He Mercie cries and calleth for his Booke But proude Disdaine doth stop the Iudges eare● So that on ●im she 'le not so much as looke And thus from Barre they quickelie doe him beare From ALBAS presence is he qui●e debarde Exilde from Her this is his sentence harde Great state and pomp this princely pallace showes And richly euery chamber hanged is Mine entertainment daily sweeter growes What Hart or thought can gesse I doe not misse Chiefly the Walkes and Gardens wondrous been As they a second Paradise doe seeme Yet though I finde this kindnes passing great VVith hunting hawking fowling and such sport For all our feasting and our daintie meate Our mirth and Musick in most pleasing sort For all these pleasures yet liue I in paine Since Her I want for whom I wish in vaine VVhat others loue I lothe and quite dislike And though I am in worthie co●panie Yet still my think● I am retired quite Into a place of matchles miserie Into an vncouth wood and wildernes VVhere liue such Beasts as pray on Sauagenes And if that long from her I be depriu'd My life shall be like flowers that want the Sun So shall I yeeld my Ghost as one disliu'd VVhilst my threds life shall quickly be vnspun Go skalding sighs then flie vnto her straite Say that for life or death on her I waite You stately Hils you princelike Ruins olde Which proudly in your last remainders show And who as yet the name of faire Rome holde To whom did once the whole world homage owe The place where now so many Relikes lie Of Holy soules honord for Christ to die You Theaters you Conquerors Arches faire Colosses huge and massie Pillers great Triumphant Showes of more then Glory rare Where Victorie with pomp did take their seate Lo what a wonder strange in you is

still at her former Crime And with Remorse doth mortifie the Spright VVhilst wronged Soule on Others layes the blame Yet reprehends her selfe euen for the same This earthly Beautie doth the Sence delight But Heauenly Beautie doth ●he minde mo●e please The one the World hath as an Obiect right And seekes the World to pleasure with sweet ease But th' other hath ●ehouah for hir glasse Nor she for any but for him doth passe The Sence doth burne with ●oues vnperfect works Which like a blaz● in th' aire doth flit away The Soule thirsts after that which neuer hurts And hunts for that which neuer will decay That which not subiect is to any time But of it selfe most Perfect and Diuine Thou Lord the Mortall and Immortall both Created hast marke humbly I require How much within my bodie they be wroth Marke how within me gainst me they conspire VVithin themselues they vary so and grudge That which of both shall win us hard to iudge My bad Conceits from Adam sprung of yore Doo headlong runne to endles death with shame And lesse that Reason do th●m bridle sore Hardly my Soule can ●asse from whence it came Then pardon Lord the Course that I haue runne And I from Sinne a new Man will become A Tirant great faire Beautie is in Loue When it doth triumph in a louely face And who with cold Disdaine this doth not moue Is caught by subtill sweet alluring Grace Who stands at Beauties Gaze and doth not flie Is soone entrapt by wilfull glan●ing eye This which of true Loue is but Picture bare With shadowing Vale doth dimme our cleerest sight And if to follow it we do not spare It soone deceiues vs with a false delight And to perpetuall prison sends our soule Vnles her sleights by Reason we controule Faire Pearle fine gold base ex●rements of th' earth What 's Beautie but a little White and Red Reuiued with a little liuely Breath With Winde or Sunne or Sicknes altered All this ●oth Time consume and bring to nought And all what ere into this world is brought The fairest Colours drie and vanish shall The yongst must pack as well as doth the Olde All mortall things to mortall death must fall And therefore first were cast in earthly molde That which doth ●●orish greene as grasse to day Tomorow withereth like to dried Hay Swift flies our yeares as doth a running streame And lothed Age comes stealing on apace Our youth doth passe away as t were a Dreame And Death doth follow for to take his place Death comes and our Lifes patent to his hand For to resigne he straight doth vs command Strength to his course and winde vnto his flight VVith feathers to his wings Time ioyneth fast And this sweet life which we so much do like Though nere so loth yet must away at last The fairest Flower must wither with the weede VVhat so doth liue to die was first decreede Thrise happie man and trebble blest is he That neuer treads his steps from rightest way Nor with the mist of VVorld will blinded be But keepes right path and neuer goes astray Contemning all these mundaine Treasur● base In hope to ioy the heauenly Wealth of Grace VVho dyeth ill dyes who dieth well neuer dies But liues a life aboue Eternallie Like good ●l●as who in wondrous wise VVas from base Earth tooke vp to liue in skie VVhere bide Th'elect of Christ for euer blest In Abrahams bosome there for aye to rest For thee my HART doth burne like fire Deare Lord Which freesde before like Frost and chillie Ice For thee to leaue my sinne I doe accord Through which thy heauenly grace I did despise All Follies now as Shadowes vaine I le leaue And vnto thee the Substance trew I cleaue In thee I burne and in my selfe I freese Frozen through feare but burning through thy Loue. Reason ore Senses mine now ouersees And her Authoritie ore them doth proue Which makes me humbly call to thee for grace Though proud before I runne a selfe wild race Repentance right sad Griefe salt Teares sure Faith Renue in me a sorie Contrite Hart My guiltie Conscience oft within me saith I Death deserue yet Mercifull thou art Sighs from ●y soule I offer for my Fee As pretious Blood thou offredst once for mee My Hart now clensde and yet not mine as now ●weet Christ to thee his first Home turnes againe ●rom me he flies and vnto thee doth bow ● giue it thee Accept I pray the same Ah Soueraigne Sauiour do not now despise A broken Hart for pleasing Sacrifise Weake is my Barke in which my Life doth rowe My wretched life through grieuous faults mispent And in the World his Ocean sayles but slowe Because it falles into the Occident My sickly Minde runnes selfe same doubtfull way And Soule doth grieue that Fancie ●o doth stray And though a gentle calmie Winde to blowe She findes about her as she fresh do●h sayle Yet vnder Waters doe I spie belowe The Foe of my poore Soule her to assayle And in that part wherein he doth espie The Ship to leake in that he close doth lie Ah now it grieues me now I doe repent My re●chlesse Race that I so Iewde haue runne Yet hath my God in mercie to me sent Helpe to my Vessell weake else I vndon● Hope at the left hand standes that part ●o guide And constant Faith on right hand doth abide Earth was my flesh before and earth againe Ere long it shall be but my Soule on hie Shall be lift vp in brightest Heauens ●o raigne If I from false alluring Sinne can flie When at his feete who first life to me gaue A Glorious Seat for euer I shall haue Full 7. times foure of yeeres my life hath runne Whil'st to my selfe a heauy B●rthen sore To others I a gainelesse charge become Soyled with beastly Thoughts vncleanly gore Whil'st in true Light being blind I farther goe From Reasons path which Iudgement did me show Slow to good works but too too swift to ill My Soule abroad with flitting wings doth flie And in the worlds darke bottom of Selfe will Mongst 1000. Snares she carelesly doth lie Where sensual Sense and Ignorance astray Her doubtfull leades quight out of her right way Too obstinate she headlong forward runnes In greatest Light she tumbleth in most darke Nor takes she thought what of her selfe becomes Be it right or wrong her course she doth not marke So that although Immortall she should liue Most mortall Death she seekes her selfe to giue But now thanks to the Soueraigne King of all She no more blinde the dangers gins to spie And looking backe vnto her former fall She doth repent through faith most heartily Where she doth see of Heauen the narrow Gate Which once was shut now ope for her escape King of all Kinges which from thy sacred Throne Doest ma●ke and view from forth the Heauens hie Thy Graces vnto Adams Ofspring showne Of thy great Loue although vnworthilie

MONTHS MIND A ●hast Fault though no Follie in her finde Since that mine ALBA tooke her leaue of mee I leaue haue tooke of pleasure and of ioy And did with sorrow at that time agree To soiorne with him in his chiefe Annoy My Woes still greene encrease continually Which faine I would but cannot remedie And were it not but that my dauntlesse Hart Doth comfort me with hope of better cheere I soone would rid me of this vncouth smart And leaue this life which I haue bought too deare Oft do I weep to LOVE and him I pray Either to ease my paines or me to slay Yet though I beg I finde but small reliefe As do at Rich mens gates the Needy poore Who more they crie to aggrauate their griefe The lesse they finde their Almes at the doore So LOVE the more my cries I to him sen● The lesse my plants he skornefull doth attend And yet my sute is small small is the Grace That I desire for somewhat I deserue T is only for to die before her face From whom in Dutie yet I nere did swerue That she might know my life doth me annoy Vnles I might her company enioy Ladie when first vpon faire Venus Day I came acquainted with thy seemely ●elfe And vowde thy loyall Votarie to stay Proffring to thee my liuing life and welth As I was then so am I still the same Neuer to change for change exchangeth shame Within the Center of mine inward Hart As signe of euerlasting Monument Which fatall Death shall hardly from me part Thy high prizde Loue full surely haue I pent Neuer to be remou'd but there to lie World without end for aye continuallie For thee I longde for thee I much did dare For thee I hopte and feard bid sweet and sower Liking thee I for Others did not care Ore this my Hart thou hadst so great a power All othe● Faces in respect of thine I skornde as Masks thou only seemst Diuine Since LOVE then me with such affection framde That he hath me adopted Thine alone That I delight not but to heare thee namde And only like to heare thy praises showne Ah keepe thy plighted Faith vnstainde to me Though now farre off from hence thou Absent be Disdaine assaulted hath mine ALBA faire Fixing fast foot deep in her marble brest A blacksome Clowde hath darkt my beautious Aire Where cheerfull Sunne before with smile did rest She most vnlike her selfe a Tyrant showes Whilst as a Tiger mad with rage she growes All for her pleasure me for to displease Pitie she bandies from her tender hart Poyson not honey now must her appease Yet my Desire runs headlong to his smart Headlong he runs to her spite-tainted minde Which ouer fierce and cruell he doth finde My hopeles Chance through Vaile as t were I see Her quondam beautious eyes are bloodshot now Exorde desirde intreated they 'le not be They 'le not relent repent nor yeeld or bow Lightnings of Anger they do shew arigh● Thunders of Furie darting forth despight The dangers great my harmeles Hart doth spi● Yet for all this from her he 'le not retire And whilst more humble he fore her doth lie The more she sullen swels with wrathfull Ire A Monster then I may her mirorise Since she delights in such strange Tragedies Dried hath th'iniurious Feuer those faire Flowers VVhich in the cheekes of my faire ALBA lay Scorcht are those paradized coloured Bowers LOVES LOBBIE where he wantonly did play Yet not extinguisht is mine amorous flame Some sparkes are yet remainders of the same As she lookes now so lookes the Moone in skies When mongst the gloomie clowdes portending raine She with her watrie horned head forth pries Spreading abrode her dewie beames amaine So we Aurora vse for to depaint Mongst palish violets when she looketh faint Pitie is mixt with griefe in her faire face And Griefe with Pitie in the same conioyne Where LOVE though sick sits with a louely grace In midst of sickly palenes in her eyne Sicknes it selfe so louely nere did looke But since her Inne in ALBAS breast she tooke That stately Haughtines she had before Now changde is into low Humilitie And that same glance that faithles was of yore Now faithfull sheweth and full of Loyaltie So with her Colour if she did Cruell take Yet Pitifull her Palenes doth her make Like bloodie Lion or a stinging Snake With proud Disdaine to aggrauate my smart Loue into me vnaskt his way doth take Died all with blood and Blood t is of my Hart Which wounded deepe still languishing doth lie Expecting euery minute when to die Thousands of Wounds my life hath quite bereft And wanting blood Palenes sits in my face My soule this Corse his mansion House hath left Nor dares he back retire to his old place This Martyrdome although there 's many see None me caresseth or doth comfort mee My Life runnes fondly to his mortall Foe Hoping for Help where he his hurt did finde My spirits after him amaine doe goe Whilst liueles Bodie doth remaine behinde On which grim death doth seaze as on h●s pray And of his breath to reaue him doth assay A farre off Peace I see but Warre at hand Loue single strikes me but with double paine Kild is my hart by Cruell she 's Command And he that slew him cleped is Disdaine Loe here of my kinde Dame the Exercise Hate is her Chapman Blood her Marchandise Praxitiles and Myron workmen rare Apelles skilde learnde Homer famous wight Were these aliue the Picture of my Faire To carue to cut to paint and thereof write In marble brasse boord or in bookes at large They sone would faint ore prest with so great charge And yet may be her beautious Countenance With chisell toole with pensell and with pen They rightly might haue shadowed though by chance Because they in their Age were rarest Men. But had they come the nobler part to show Their cunning then had soone tooke th' ouerthrow If my bright Sunne renowmd per Excellence Through the illustrious splendar of her gleames Doth dimme and darken our Intelligence By vertue of her more then radiant beames What Hand or Thought in hand could euer take A worke so endles with good end to make Deare ALBA I by thee am still forbid By Statue Image Picture or by Verse To shew the Vertues rare within thee hid As not being able least part to rehearse It shall suffice as sacred I admire Thy spotles life thy more then chast Desire To thee farre off from me these sighs I send To thee farre off from Loue I neere to die To know if thou thy selfe will minde wilt mend Desisting from thy hatefull Crueltie Beautie if it be milde it is renound If it be proud a foule reproch t is found Thou makst a shew as if thou wouldst be kinde But t is a shadow not a substance right For comming vnto triall straight I finde Thy sdainfull chast lookes puts my Hope to flight Whilst

doe Nor Loue obtaine in vaine t is then to sue Deare to my Soule for Deare I may thee call Since thou farre dearer then my selfe I holde When wilt thou rid me from this loathed thrall In which I am through Fancies bandes enrold When wilt thou keepe thy promise vnto mee Whereof no deedes but words I yet can see Why doubtfull still doest thou my ioyes prolong And driuste me of in dalliance without cause Me and thy selfe why doest thou double wrong To keepe thy word why so long doest thou pause Thus for to lo●e thy golden ●ime t is sin Which once being past againe thou canst not win Matters of state we vse to politize Procrastinating for aduantage great LOVE lingring hates and lothes to temporize Delaie's too ●olde for his orewarmed heate Ah doe not driue me of thus still in vaine Still for to lose t is much once let me gaine Dearer to me then th'apple of mine eyes Let word and deede but once for all agree Not any can in face thee equalize If but a little more thou kinde wouldst be Then with allusiue Sightes feede not me still But graunt at last for to performe my will Ye luke warme Teares which from my nere dride eyes Streame downe amaine like fountaines day and night Wende to my Lady in most humble wise And shew to her my most vnhappie plight Wende vnto her who outwardly in shew Seemes pittifull but inward is not so Weepe you ●o her and say I st possible A Creature that so courteous seemes to all Shoulde haue a hart more cruell and more fell Then Tiger harder then a stony wall Ah why seemes she not inwardly as kinde As she doth outward shew the world to blinde This my Icarian soaring boue my reach Though Beautie serenising fals my Hart How I ore bolde my headlong fall doth teach Whilest LOVE doth play gainst me a subtile part Yet Beauties Birth I am by her I breath Though liue against her fauour and her leaue Wilde fire with milke is quencht rigor with teares Yet naught her stubborne minde can mollifie Vnto my prayers she stops her deafened eares And with Despayre requites my Courtesie Thus am I still starre crossed in my Loue As one bewitcht with whom no good doth proue How long shall I diue in this vastie Sea To finde this Perle this Orient MARGARITE How long this bottome founding shall I be Yet nere attaine this precious Iewell bright My labors like to Hercules abound Who more he did the more to doe stil found I am too weake with Ospraies eyes to looke Against the fierie beames of this faire Sun Too great a Burthen haue I fondly tooke For my weake shoulders long since ouercome The more I seeke the farther I to finde Like to the wretch that of his sight is blinde My brused Bulwarke is not strong enough For to resist this beautious Batterie My yoke too small to draw so huge a plough Mine eyes too dimme such Brightnes to descries This sh●wes that as vnluckie I was borne To die vnfortunate I must not scorne Yet I le not leaue to intercessionate To her hard Breast for my too gentle Hart That if her Rigor she 'le not mitigate At least she 'le somewhat ease me of this Smart I onely craue if she 'le not yeelde reliefe T'adiourne my paine and to proroge my Griefe Thrise trebble blessed BRACELET rich in prise I enuie not thy perlie fret nor golde But fortune thine because in happie wise The place of perfect pleasure thou dost holde About that wrist thou turnst and windst so oft More white then Snow then thistle down more soft Base mindes loue Golde t is not thy Golde I steeme For this I onely value thee at much Because an Ornament th' art to be seene Of her white Hand yclept of right NONESVCH NONESVCH indeede whose Beautie is so rare As nere the like attainde the perfects Faire This is the cause so highlie I thee rate As all the golden Mines of Indian ground Nor Seas of Pearle can counteruaile thy state Wherein thou art this present to be found And if that trueth I shall confesse inde●●e The wealth of all the world thou dost exceede But when I marke how by strange cunning Art Faire louelie Haires with Pearle and Golde conioyne A pleasing ioy doth seaze vpon my Heart Whilest with strange pleasures Fancie feeds my mind So as sweete BRACELET thou dost rightly proue To be th' enchantment of bewitching LOVE Liue Louely Fame which when thou first didst take Possession of my Heart wert stony colde And bashfull but when entrance thou didst make Then as Triumphant thou didst keepe thy holde Changing both Thought state that where before Colde chillie Yee was hot Desire burnt sore If I thee honor worship serue and loue He knowes who guides the restles Globe on high But enuious Fates on me their force doe proue And me from thee haue banisht spitefully So that more paine I doe each houre abide Then if that thousands sorts of deaths I dide But fore that peereles matchles shape of thine The better part wherein my Soule doth rest Shall out of minde or memory of mine Whereby I only happy liue and blest All things shall chaunce impossible that be My selfe forget my selfe will I fore thee The Sunne shall lose his power and darke become The Skies shall melt and into horror fall The earth shall sinke the world be quite vndone And fore this chance all strange things happen shall Though now thou bidste in Albions fruitfull land And I where Mantuan Duke his Court doth stand Mantua Such as do liggen in Delight and ioy And haue what Hart can wish or Thought deuise Spending their time withouten dire Annoy Liuing amongst their friends in iocondwise And who with Loue of Ladies theirs are blest May in Eternam Requiem happie rest Me sillie Trauailer a pilgrim poore Who through hard hap these blessings all do misse Care doth become since want I do endure Of Countrie Friends and Loue my chiefest blisse And yet this CARE not Ill but well with mee Obseruing still Decorum doth agree A Trauailer farre from his Natiue coast With Care doth rise with Care him downe doth lay And though from piller tost he be to poste When All him leaue yet Care with him doth stay Not like vaine pleasure who away doth p●ake When he his Bark through want perceiues to leake Thanks then to Care of Poore the comfort chiefe The best companion that we Strangers finde In Countries strange forlorne without reliefe Who quiet gentle patient is and kinde Then constant CARE not Comfort I do craue And might I chuse I CARE with L. would haue This Tower this Castle this huge Prison strong Begirt with high and double fenced Wall Where I to be kept prisoner thus haue wrong Can neuer hurt nor do me harme at all Since I was pent here I am nothing changde But as before when I abrode still rangde This place restraines my Bodies libertie But