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	great_a	life_n	6,180	5	4.2335	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A67351	Three poems upon the death of His late Highnesse Oliver lord protector of England, Scotland, and Ireland written by Mr Edm. Waller, Mr Jo. Dryden, Mr Sprat of Oxford.; Upon the late storme and of the death of His Highnesse ensuing the same	Waller, Edmund, 1606-1687.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700. Poem upon the death of his late Highness Oliver, Lord Protector of England, Scotland, and Ireland.; Sprat, Thomas, 1635-1713. To the happie memory of the most renowned Prince Oliver, Lord Protector.	1659 (1659)	Wing W526; ESTC R11197	8,864	38

had been sinne in thee not to be great When every Stream and every Flood Was a true vein of Earth and ran with blood When unus'd Armes and unknown War Fill'd every place and every Eare When the great stormes and dismal Night Did all the Land afright 'T was time for thee to bring forth all our Light Thou left'st thy more delightfull peace Thy Private life and better ease Then down thy Steel and Armour took Wishing that it stil hung upon the hook When death had got a large Commission out Throwing her Arrows and her Stings about Then thou as once the healing Serpent rose Was 't lifted up not for thy self but us 7. Thy Country wounded 't was and sick before Thy Wars and Armes did her restore Thou knew'st where the disease did lye And like the Cure of Sympathy Thy strong and certain Remedy Unto the Weapon didst apply Thou didst not draw the Sword and so Away the Scabbard throw As if thy Country ●●ou'd Be the Inheritance of Mars and bloud But that when the great work was spunne War in it self should be undone That peace might land again upon the shoare Richer and better than before The husbandman no Steel should know None but the usefull Iron of the Plow That bayes might Creep on every Spear And though our Skie was over-spread With a destructive red 'T was but till thou our Sun didst in full light appear 8. When Ajax dyed the purple blood That from his Gaping Wounds had flow'd Turn'd into Letters every Leafe Had on it writ his Epitaph So from that Crimson Flood Which thou by fate of times were led Unwillingly to Shed Letters and Learning rose and were renew'd Thou fought'st not out of Envy Hope or Hate But to refine the Church and State And like the Romans what e're thou In the Field of Mars didst mow Was that a holy Island thence might grow Thy Wars as Rivers raised by a Shoure Which Welcome Clouds do poure Though they at first may seem To carry all away with an inraged Stream Yet did not happen that they might destroy Or the better parts annoy But all the filth and Mud to scower And leave behind a Richer Slime To give a birth to a more happy power And make new fruits arise in their appoynted time 9. In Field unconquer'd and so well Thou didst in battails and in armes excell That Steelly Armes themselves might be Worn out in Warre as soon as thee Successe so closse upon thy Troops did waite As if thou first hadst Conquered Fate As if uncertain Victory Had been first overcome by thee As if her wings were clipt and could not flee Whilst thou didst only serve Before thou hadst what first Thou didst deserve Others by thee did great things do Triumph'st thy self and mad'st them Triumph too Though they above thee did appear As yet in a more large and higher sphere Thou the Great Sun gav'st light to every Starre Thy self an Army wert alone And mighty Troops contain'dst in one Thy only Sword did guard the Land Like that which flaming in the angel's hand From Men God's Garden did defend But yet thy Sword did more than his Not only guarded but did make this Land a Paradice 10. Thou sought'st not to be high or great Not for a Scepter or a Crown Or Ermyne Purple or the Throne But as the Vestal heat Thy Fire was kindled from above alone Religion putting on thy shield Brought thee Victorious to the Field Thy armes like those which antient Hero's wore Were given by the God thou didst adore And all the Swords thy Armies had Were on an Heavenly anvill made Not Int'rest or any weak desire Of rule or empire did thy mind inspire Thy valour like the holy Fire Which did before the Persian Armies go Liv'd in the Camp and yet was sacred too Thy mighty Sword anticipates What was reserv'd for Heaven those blest Seats And makes the Church triumphant here below 11. Though Fortune did hang on thy Sword And did obey thy mighty word Though Fortune for thy side and thee Forgot her lov'd Inconstancy Amidst thy Armes and Trophies Thou Wert Valiant and Gentle too Woundedst thy selfe when thou didst kill thy Foe Like Steel when it much work hath past That which was rough doth shine at last Thy Arms by being oftner us'd did smoother grow Nor did thy Battails make thee proud or high Thy Conquest rais'd the State not thee Thou overcam'st thy selfe in every Victorie As when the Sunne in a directer line Upon a polish'd Golden Shield doth shine The Shield reflects unto the Sun again his Light So when the Heavens smil'd on thee in Fight When thy propitious God had lent Successe and Victory to thy Tent To Heaven again the Victory was sent 12. England till thou didst come Confin'd her valour home Then our own Rocks did stand Bounds to our Fame as well as Land And were t us as well As to Our Enemies unpassable We were asham'd at what we readd And blusht at what Our Fathers did Because we came so farre behind the dead The Brittish Lyon hung his Main and droopt To slavery and Burthens stoopt With a degenerate Sleep and Fear Lay in his Den and Languish't there At whose least voice before A trembling Eccho ran through every Shoare And shook the World at every Roare Thou his subdued Courage didst restore Sharpen'dst his Clawes and in his Eyes Mad'st the same dreadfull Lightning rise Mad'st him again afright the neighbouring Floods His mighty Thunder sound through all the Woods Thou hast Our Military Fame redeem'd Which once was lost or Clouded seem'd Nay more Heaven did by thee bestow On us at once an Iron Age and Happy too 13. Till thou Command'st that Azure Chaines of Waves Which Nature round about us sent Made us to every Pyrat slaves Was rather burthen then an Ornament Those fields of Sea that washt our Shores Were plowgh'd and reap'd by other hands then ours To us the Liquid Masse Which doth about us run As it is to the Sunne Only a bed to sleep in was And not as now a powerfull Throne To shake and sway the World there on Our Princes in their hand a Globe did shew But not a perfect one Compos'd of Earth and Water too But thy Command the Floods obey'd Thou all the Wildernesse of Water sway'd Thou didst but only Wed the Sea Not make her equall but a slave to thee Neptune himselfe did bear thy Yoke Stooped and Trembled at thy Stroke He that ruled all the Maine Acknowledg'd thee his Soveragne And now the Conquered Sea doth pay More Tribute to thy Thames then that unto the Sea 14. Till now our Valour did our Selves more hurt Our Wounds to other Nations were a sport And as the Earth Our Land produced Iron and Steel which should to teare ourselves be used Our Strength within it selfe did breake Lkie Thundering Cannons-Crack And kill those that were neer While th' Enemies secure and untouch't were But now Our

Trumpets thou hast made to sound Against our Enemies walls in Forraign-ground And yet no Eccho back on us returning found England is now the happy peacefull Isle And all the World the while Is exercising Armes and Warrs With Forrain or Intestine Jarrs The Torch extinguish't here we lend to others Oyle We give to all yet know our selves no feare We reach the Flame of ruine and of death Where ere we please Our Swords t' unsheathe VVhilst we in calm temperate Regions breathe Like to the Sunne whose heat is hurl'd Through every corner of the VVorld VVhose Flame through all the aire doth go And yet the Sun himself the while no fire doth know 15 Besides the Glories of thy peace Are not in number nor in value lesse Thy hand did Cure and close the Scarrs Of our bloody Civill Warrs Not only Lanc'd but heal'd the Wound Made us again as healthy and as sound When now the Ship was welnigh lost After the Storme upon the Coast By its best Mariners endanger'd most When they their Ropes and Helms had left When the Plancks asunder cleft And Floods came roaring in with mighty sound Thou a safe Land and Harbour for us found And saved'st those that would themselves have drown'd A work which none but Heaven thee could do Thou mad'st us happie whe're we would or no Thy Judgment Mercy Temperance so great As if those vertues only in thy mind had seat Thy Piety not only in the Field but Peace When Heaven seeemd to be wanted least Thy Temples not like Ianu's only were Open in time of warr When thou hadst greater cause of feare Religion and the Awe of Heaven possest All places and all times alike thy breast 16. Nor didst thou only for thy age provide But for the yeares to come beside Our after-times and late posterity Shall pay unto thy Fame as much as we They too are happy made by thee When Fate did call thee to a higher Throne And when thy Mortall work was done When Heaven did say it and thou must be gon Thou him to bear thy burthen chose Who might if any could make us forget thy losse Nor hadst thou Him design'd Had he not bin Not only to thy blood but vertue Kinn Not only heire unto thy Throne but Minde T is He shall perfect all thy Cures And with as fine a Thread weave out thy Loom So One did bring the Chosen people from Their Slavery and Feares Led them through their Pathlesse Road Guided himselfe by God He brought them to the Borders but a Second hand Did settle and Secure them in the promis'd Land UPON THE LATE STORME AND DEATH OF HIS HIGHNESSE Ensuing the same By Mr. Waller WE must resigne Heav'n His great Sold do's claim In storms as loud as His Immortall Fame His dying groanes his last Breath shakes our Isle And Trees uncutt fall for His Funerall Pile About His Pallace their broad roots are tost Into the aire So Romulus was lost New Rome in such a Tempest mis't her King And from Obeying fell to Worshipping On Oeta's top thus Hercules lay dead With ruin'd Okes and Pines about him spread The Poplar too whose bough he woont to wear On his Victorious head lay prostrate there Those his last fury from the Mountain rent Our dying-Hero from the Continent Ravish't whole Towns and Forts from Spaniards rest As his last Legacy to Brittain lest The Ocean which so long our hopes confin'd Could give no limits to His vaster mind Our Bounds inlargment was his latest toyle Nor hath he left us Prisoners to our Isle Under the Tropick is our language spoke And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke From Civill Broyls he did us disingage Found nobler objects for our Martiall rage And with wise Conduct to his Country show'd Their ancient way of conquering abroad Ungratefull then if we no Tears allow To Him that gave us Peace and Empire too Princes that fear'd him grieve concern'd to see No pitch of glory from the Grave is free Nature her selfe took notice of His death And sighing swel'd the Sea with such a breath That to remotest shores her Billows rold Th' approching Fate of her great-Ruler told FINIS