Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	bring_v	die_v	life_n	8,298	5	4.5286	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A44451	The victory of death, or, The fall of beauty a visionary Pindarick-poem, occasion'd by the ever to be deplor'd death of the Right Honourable the Lady Cutts / by Mr. John Hopkins.	Hopkins, John, fl. 1700.	1698 (1698)	Wing H2750; ESTC R18839	17,357	97

delightful Song The charming Poet softly plays They leap and dance and time his Lays No Rocks so hard but he could move And soften with his Ayres of Love This Sense had Herds but Florimena's Charms Had rais'd them with more fierce Alarms Far greater would their Transports be And only seeing Fair they would have follow'd thee XXVII As happy Martyrs Visions shew The Ioys of Heav'n which none till Death must view So I inlighten'd by thy Beauty's Flame See all the Extasies that Thought can frame Like the great immov'd Painter I conceive Such ravishing Idea's here My Pencil would my Soul deceive No fixt Proportion would the Painting bear But I at once should ramble ev'ry where O Sorrow here thy Curtain place Draw a black Veil ore this too beauteous Face To thee alas unhappily I run Alas the Veil is drawn and Death the willing Task has done XXVIII Like Lightning shining was her Beauty view'd From a fair Sky produc'd without a Cloud A while the glitt'ring Blessing strikes our Eyes From Heav'n its purest Flashes came A heav'nly yet destroying Flame Which only robs us of our Sight and dies The short liv'd Comfort shews our Fears And strait again it disappears Thro' darkest Gloom it brings us Light Its Life conducts us to our Death And guides us to black Shades beneath The momentary View it chears It only now makes all the Globe seem bright To pass like fleeting Thought away and leave more solid Night The World lies clad in Darkness when 't is gone Storms and fierce Show'rs descend and strait rolls the loud Thunder on XXIX Nor was it Beauty in this Nymph alone Which made her conqu'ring Warriour's Soul her own Tho wond'rous Magick in soft Glances lies Had it been true that Lovers and that Love were blind This bright victorious Fair had triumph'd in his Mind Not all his Love from Looks the Hero drew She had a Tongue as charming as her Eyes At once a Venus and Minerva too Let meaner Beauties only boast Their tuneful Voices Pow'r to move They find that when they charm the most Those Swains whose Fires before did glow A little ravish'd own a Love Their Breath can to that Height the Burnings blow But Florimena's Ayres much more could do They rais'd the Fire and kept it flaming too XXX This Nymph's each Cesture had some Grace that charm'd She could not look or speak or move But she commanded awful Love And the Beholders of all Sense disarm'd Her Glances still so bright they flew Or struck admiring Lovers blind Or all their Senses to their Eyes confin'd That they could only view Or if the sung Oh Heav'ns what Man can bear The very Thought of so divine an Ayre Methinks young Love with hov'ring Spirits flies Around her charming Lips and basks about her Eyes No God from the sweet Spheres such Transports drew So soft so melting soft her Voice and yet so piercing too XXXI Each Note excessive Transport brings And still she charms the more the more she sings Hark how pleas'd Eccho does the Tunes restore The Eccho soft returns the Ayres And seems to listen and has Fears Lest any other Eccho hears Her coy Narcissus here the Maid had mov'd Returning Florimena's Song The charming Youth she would have drawn along Not the reflection of a Face but Voice he would have lov'd Till Death shut in her Charms her Charms ah now no more In every part Musick the lovely Florimena wore In every part of her soft Frame and she was Harmony all ore XXXII The Sweets of Hybla from her Breath did flow And her fair lovely Cheeks did with fresh Beauty glow Devouring Death luxurious now I see Strange That no Art not its own Charms can save Beauty almost immortal from the Grave He blasts the blooming Fruit and he destroys the Tree Where'er the Glories of her Face were shown Beauty in hers could not be surer seen than Wonder in our own So lovely fair if such a thing there be As Beauty's self 't was Florimena and 't was only she XXXIII But now that Sun of Beauty and of Love Shines in an other Radiant Sphere above Tho'nought could clowd her clear Meridian Light When the short space was ended which she run And the bright Task of radiant Day was done She set all heavenly fair in Death's eternal Night Night and thick Darkness ore the Globe we find While smaller Beauties by her absence here Like Stars with fainter Light appear Which can't orecome those Clouds which she has left behind Such were the Beauties Florimena wore The Stars themselves were not in Number more Scarce the Nymph's other Merits can I trace Transported so With the aërial Images I grow Of all the blushing Glories in her beauteous Face My Pencil fond does of that Stroak appear And who ah who would stir that could dwell ever here XXXV Too lovely Face to be exprest in Paint Thou the most charming Shrine of the most charming Saint Seraphick Beauty reign'd thro' out the whole In all such wondrous Sweetness was display'd Divine in Body more divine in Soul The one on purpose for the other made Now may we mourn since Florimena's dead The second but more fair Astraea fled The first by Strise and impious Wars was driven But this when all her Pray'rs were heard And Peace to flourish ore the Globe prepar'd Flew pleas'd and calmly up to her own native Heaven XXXVI She fled indeed a blest Astraea there But left alas no Florimena here All that we good divine and lovely call Name but that Word it comprehends them all Her Darts could every Gazer hit One shooting Glance alone could move With lambent Fires of inoffensive Love She had the Flames of Beauty and the Warmth of Wit Swift as her Looks could her bright Notions rise Her Fancy and her Thought were clear and charming as her Eyes XXXVII Her Frame all Sweets which Love desires could boast In her possession the blest Hero knew The force of Beauty and of Passion too She was most lovely and she lov'd the most The transport of her mortal Charms If such the smallest Charm of hers could be Had been too vast a Prize for any other's Arms But on her Lord Ambrosial Show'rs did fall She prov'd by all her Actions Love could see He had and he deserv'd them all He only lovely to her Eyes did seem Fondly and dear she lov'd as fondly was belov'd by him XXXVIII Soft were the Flames their glowing Bosoms bore Such bright such pleasing Likeness in them lay Such equal Influence too they wore As those fair Beams which in her Eyes did play Him did this Nymph to all Mankind prefer Her Hero's Passion did she prize As dear as her own charming Eyes Those Myrtles which her Love made grow He valu'd high as his own Lawrel-Bough And of all Womankind he burnt alone for her Her in whose soft Embrace such Bliss was given He prest a Goddess and he thought himself in Heaven XXXIX As her bright Form

bend Low wond'rous low confus'd they fall And in thick Night descend Down round a spacious gloomy Grove beneath Close set with aged Cypress Trees Which each with shiv'ring Horror sees With flutt'ring Wings their Iourney past Disorderly they light at last Amaz'd they view the dismal Grove Unlike the Scenes they view'd above Ah! far unlike the Bowr's of Love With trembling Eyes they look within And down agast they totter all Depriv'd of Voice depriv'd of Breath They find these Mansions are the Courts of Death No Ray of their bright God can here Amidst this solid Gloom appear Their melancholy Thoughts to chear As interposing Bodies cloud his radiant Light So is their Lustre here eclips'd by Death's oreshadowing Night VI. Above their head they view the Forrest bare Ill-boding Birds instead of Leaves they see Sit croaking on their tops and cov'ring every Tree The horrid Groans of Ghosts invade The shatt'ring Branches and molest the shade Murmurs and Sighs make all the Breezes there The Musick which the Goddess Death delights alone to hear Thro' all the Vale no blooming Plant appears The deadly Soil nought but rank Poysons bears And ev'n those unripen'd lye Scatter'd beneath the Trees and dye Here hoary Winter reigns thro' all the Year Spread ore with Tombs and Graves the spacious Field Does a vast Crop of Death and dire Destruction yield So dread a Burthen does it bear Such weighty Monuments of Pomp are there The Vale resounds thro'out with Moans And streams of Blood opprest with Bones Instead of softer Murmurs make complaint in Groans VII Within the awful Grove a Temple stands Long built by Fate 's unalterable Hands Round is its shape four Iron Gates appear To let in all for all must enter here Not in one posture do they ever stand But as the dreadful Goddess please They open or they shut with ease Whene'r she lifts her sacred Wand Or only beckons with a bloody Hand Old Age and Pains are Porters to the Doors And Goddess Death they make the whole Creation yours The Gates with putrid Rust are overspread And all besmear'd with Blood of Lovers dead The more the rusty Iron crumbles down The Gates are still the stronger grown Their Wickets of themselves clap to and open fast And flakes of clotted Gore they throw Off with their aged Rust below Thus by their own decay they do for ever last VIII Death's Servants all in black appear The Liv'ry of their Queen they wear And mournful black the Walls of those Apartments bear Here pitchy Tapers cast their Shades And a thick Wreath of Smoak in Clouds ore all the Temple spreads The Goddess self behind her gloomy Shrine Does her grim Head upon her Arm recline Behold two Images before her stand The greatest mortal Beauty here Upon her left does pale appear The greatest mortal Warriour on the other hand Above her Head Diseases bear Her bloody Crown all flaming in the Air. Dark is her Shrine her Crown alone Glares with a glim'ring Dread and lights her sultry Throne IX No precious Stones within this Crown are worn But fixt at top a Scull it bore Oreflowing with black putrid Gore And dire discolour'd sulph'rous Flame does all its Parts adorn Diseases hov'ring ore her Throne Infected by each other tumble down Fast does the one upon the other drop And by their Fall the tott'ring Crown they prop. Faint to their Goddess each arrives Her pale wan Lips they flutter ore Her blasting Breath does all their Pains restore And thus ev'n Death it self revives X. Behold the Images are nearer plac't And now the Goddess sets them close at last See Florimena ore the Head May of the lovely female fair be read In Characters of black that Name is understood See ore the other's Head a Name Renown'd ore all the Coasts of Fame Behold 't is character'd in Blood 'T is glorious CUTTS her Noble Lord Who ev'n in gloomy shades of Death shall ever be ador'd XI Heavens How the awful Goddess stares Behold her fiery Eyes see how their Lightning glares See what a storm of sulphrous Breath she pours Reluctant Fires and rowling Smoak From her wide Iaws in flashes broke See see towards the Fair she moves Blasts all her happy Days her tender Hours Blasts with the noysome Breath which from her came The purest light of Passion 's sacred Flame And blasts her Hero's fondest Loves XII Behold her Scepter dread with Iron rust Whose pond'rous Load none else can bear No longer lies beneath her Throne Death's Scepter buried deep in Dust Aloft with pain she lifts and shakes in Air. Inrag'd she pounds on Carcasses and Bones Distorted Looks in Flashes fly Her very Scepter trembles and her Crown Sway'd by the Weight seems tott'ring down And now the frowning Goddess swells and groans As if her self ev'n Death her self would dye The lovely loving Images she parts Heaves up her Scepter now relents And strait the threaten'd stroak repents But soon again her Rage does glow She leaps and bounds and strikes the Blow The very Image of the Hero starts Loud on her own dread Name Death proudly calls Heavens Now the stroak is giv'n and Florimena falls XIII This must be all but visionary Dream Which thus my Thoughts thro' Indigestion frame This killing Object cannot be A Death which makes me almost dye to see This wild Chimaera but in fancy lyes 'T is then but fancy too that Florimena dyes Fancy Alas Too well I know Whate'r against my Soul may flow My willing Mind would never fancy so Not all the Rage of cruel War The mighty Hero's Soul could move Now mark his Thoughts behold they jar 'T is worse than Death not Life he loses but he loses Love XIV And now another Scene appears Death's Temple opens and within The dreadful bloody Altar's seen To which the lovely Corps her Priestess bears Off rings of Skulls and Bones she brings The sacred Load into the Flame she flings And the great Conquest of her Monarch sings The eager Flames the Prey destroy The ghastly Priestess grins a Smile Pleas'd with the Ruin of the charming Pile And the Fire crackles with excess of Ioy. The sacred Altar where the Priestess stood Still blushes for her Crime while she grows drunk with Blood XV. The Monster Death is blind we know She had not else us'd Florimena so See see the beauteous Charmer lyes And in the Flames expires A Sacrifice to Death she 's made While yet no living Off'ring to great Love she paid To Love who mourns his now extinguish'd Fires Hark thro' the Courts of Death a dismal sound In hollow voice does from all sides rebound Hark Florimena is the Name Swiftly the Noise in Ecchoes flyes The Ecchoes fainter the lov'd Noise proclaim And ev'n the very Name of Florimena dyes Rise Muses rise your flight prepare Quit the black Mansions of this Realm of Night Prepare make haste prepare your flight And cut the upper Air. Now Florimena does your Labours claim I 'll raise