Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	crown_n	king_n	son_n	5,450	5	5.2450	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A56858	Regale lectum miseriæ, or, A kingly bed of misery in which is contained a dreame with an elegie upon the martyrdome of Charls, late King of England, of blessed memory, and another upon the right Honorable the Lord Capel : with A curse against the enemies of peace, and The authors farewell to England / by John Quarles.	Quarles, John, 1624-1665.	1649 (1649)	Wing Q135; ESTC R5228	28,866	72

courses till their strength is don I have a stream of grief within my brest That tumbles up and down and cannot rest I am resolv'd let death distwade to speak What Reason dictate or my heart must break I 'le mount the Stage let standers by behold My Actions for my sorrows must be bold I fear not those whose powers may controll The language of my tongue but not my soul Advance dejected souls hear reason call Let not the truth be passive though we fall Blush not to own those tears which you have spent In private for a Publick discontent Let not your tongues be Pris'ners to your lips When Justice cals oh let not fear ecclipse The light of truth rouse up your selves draw neer When Justice finds a Tongue finde you an eare The day 's expir'd bright Sal hath drawn his head Within the curtaines of his Tethean bed Where shall we hide our slumbring souls and lay Our wearied limbes till he renews the day A day Alasse have not our wretched eyes Seen a great fall can we expect a Rise Should Heav'n who justly may command his powres T' expel this light as we have lately ones What should we do where should we finde a sun That have by too much doing quite undone Our wilfull selves by snuffing out that light Which he inspir'd to guard us from the night Of sad confusion ah how could we spoile So pure a lampe and so usurpe that oyle Which was ordain'd to nourish us We run To light a Candle and put out the Sun In vain we waste our times and range about To look for new lights now the old Light 's out We seek and we may finde but heav'n knowes when Old lights were made by God new by men Shake England for thy Grand Vpholders down Thy feet have lately spurn'd against thy Crown Thy hands are daub'd with bloud one ruine calls An other to the others funeralls Destruction thunders and the earth is fill'd With doleful ecchoes bloud that hath been spill'd By unjust hands like seas begin to roare As if 't would take revenge upon the shore The whistling woods and their subjected springs Sends forth Elegious blasts each corner rings With unaccustom'd sounds All things expresse By thir prognosticating looks unhappinesse Deploring Philomel does now repeare Contristed notes upon her Thorny seat She has forgot those sweet no turnall notes Which lately charm'd all sorrow now she dotes Upon her woefull he prolixed tones And findes no sweetnesse in her bitter groanes The Commons of the aire conspire to throw Their Soveraign down and will not fly so low As formerly but are resolv'd to be Oppugnant to the Eagles Majesty How pregnant is Rebellion every where Not onely here on earth but in the aire Can thunder roare and not the lofty sound Be heard can Cedar fall unto the ground And not be seen can Mountaines shrinke away And not observ'd nor can there be a day Without a Sun nor can there be a night Without some darknesie can there be a light Put our unwanted or can murther be Committed upon sacred Majestie And not lamented sure no humane heart Can be so brazen as not to impart Some sorrow to the world for such a losse When gold is gone how uselesse is the drosse Now mournfull Muses light your Torches all T' attend your glory to his Funerall Shal our Mecaenas dye and you stand still And not appeare upon Parnassus bill Away away invoke Apolloes aide Tell him that your Mecaenas was betray'd To an unlawfull death and you desire To sacrifice a verse and then retire Could I translate my heart into a verse I 'de pinne it with my soul upon his herse Could I command the world I 'de make it burne Like a pure lampe upon his sacred Vrne Could I command all eyes I 'de have them make As a memoriall for great Charles his sake A sea of teares that after ages may Lament to see but not lament to say He dy'd without a teare and it should be Call'd the salt sea of flowing Loyaltie Could I command all hearts I 'de make them spend Some drops of bloud upon his tombe and send Millions of sighes to Heav'n that may expresse His death was Englands great unhappinesse Could I command all tongues I 'de make them run Divisions on his praise till time were done Could I command all hands I 'de strike them dead Because they should not rise against their head Could I command all feet I 'de make them goe And give the Son that duty which they owe To his deserts I 'm in a desert and I know not where To guide my steps that path which seemes most faire Broves most pernicious to me and will lend My feet a good beginning but no end Great Charl's oh happy word but what 's the next Bad 's th' application of so good a Text Is dead most killing word what is he dead Nay more if more may be hee 's murthered Ah then my thoughts are murther'd my sad eyes Shall never cease to weep his Obsequies I 'le turn this place into a bubling spring Of briny teares and then I 'le freely bring A Sacrifice to sorrow which shall be A flaming heart that 's crown'd with Loyaltie Now could I spend an age in thoughts and tyre The night with sighes methinks I could inspire Sorrow it self and teach it to proclaime What ruine waites upon our new-bred flame But 't is in vaine perswasions have no powre On them whose resolutions can devoure Both Law and Reason two most horrid crimes In these pernicious these contentious times Come then my thoughts and let us ruminate Upon our sorrows oh unhappy Fate Why didst thou snuffle out Charles his royal blaze In the Aurora of his well-spent days But 't is in vaine to blame thee for thy hand Cannot refraine to strike if God command Heav'n saw he was too good to be enjoy'd By us but not too good to be destroy'd For his owne glory let 's rejoyce we had So good a King but grieve to think how bad We us'd his goodness we may justly say He gave in mercy what he took away In Iudgment for his own commands appointed We should not touch much more slay his anointed And yet we have as if our hearts had sworn To contradict his will abus'd and torn His own Vicegerent to whose thriving hand He gave the Scepter of a glorious Land But now unhappy land thy glories fled Thy Crown is fallen and thy Charles is dead Goe then deplore thy self whilst others sing The living vertues of thy martyr'd King His glory shall survive with Fame when they Shall lye forgotten in a heape of Clay That were the Authors of his death their bones Shall turne to ashes as their hearts are stones But did my tongue expresse that they should be Forgot oh no their long-liv'd Tyranny Shall be perpetuall harke misfortune sings The worst of Tyrants kill'd the best of Kings He was the best what impious tongue

hollow all Ye sacred Muses and conspire to bring Matterialls to this worke and learne to sing For should ye weep your eyes might undertake To drown that world which I intend to make Forbeare your teares are uselesse you must now Gaze upon death with an undaunted brow Capell has taught us how to entertaine The palled looks of Mars by him we gaine The art of dying and from him we have The diffinition of a Noble Grave Rare soul I say thy ever active Fame Shall build a world upon thy pregnant name And every Letter of thy Name shall raise A spacious kingdom where thy ample praise Shall be recorded every hearkning eare Shall prove Ambitious and admire to heare 'T will be a glory when the world shall say 'T was bravely done his Soveraigne lead the way And he as valiant Souldiers ought to doe March'd boldly after and was alwayes true To sacred Majesty his Noble breath Disdain'd the fear of a Tyrannick death Death added life unto his thoughts for he Contemn'd a life if bought with infamy The very birds shall learne to prate and sing How Capell suffered for his Royall King Rouze then ye stupid sons of Morpheus Let This shining Sun of English valour set And rise within your horizons your hearts I mean and teach you how to sing in parts The Anthems of his worth Oh understand That this was he whose death hath fill'd the land With living sorrow this was he whose glory Shall lend the world an everlasting story You lust-obeying Tarquins that permit And tolerate your pleasures to commit Adulterated actions and command England our poor Lucretia to stand Subject to our libidinous desires And cannot help her self heav'n grant your fires May soone expire that at the last we may Like Tarquins see you banish'd quite away Say will your hung'ry appetites receive No satisfaction have you vow'd to leave No Noble blood Alasse how can your meek And tender consciences thus roar and seek Like greedy Lyons senting up and downe To find your prey in every Royall Towne Where is that zeale which was in former times A golden pretext to your drossy crimes Doe you not thinke of heav'n have ye forgot There is a God or will ye own him not Where is Religion your upholder fled What is that murther'd too or have ye spread A vaile upon her that she may not be Observ'd or own'd but in necessitie Has not Religion all this while maintain'd Your unjust cause what mony 's ye have gain'd Was for Religions sake which still supplyd Your wants but now ye 're full that 's lay'd Vnhappy is that land whose people braggs That they have put Religion up in baggs Money precedes Religion now but stay Precipitating quil I 've lost my way Nay and my subject too how came my minde Thus much to deviate oh where shall I finde My former subject shall my thoughts object His memory and own him with Neglect No no they shall not come my Muse repose Let 's think upon your Friend and let our foes Remember us Capell thy worth shall fill The black mouth'd concave of my mourning quil He was a Pompie but receiv'd his harme From Tyrants not from Caesars noble arme He had an Army in his minde could call Vertue to be their bold fac'd General He had no Pride no Faction to create Or nurse division in his peacefull State He had a Court of Justice in his breast But not to tyrannize to make inquest After the sons of Loyalty or bring Illegall Judgements to their legal King He had a heart that never us'd to hide The heate of envie or the flames of Pride He had a Conscience never us'd t' exact Upon a widdowed Kingdome or extract The treasures of a Nation to defray His own desires he never us'd to play The Devil in the habit of a Saint Or teach his Agitators how to paint A vice with pleasing colours or prepare His ready eyes to shed a zealous teare With a false heart he never striv'd to please And turn the Peoples hearts with Peters-Keyes And to conclude he never would desire Other mens fuels to maintain his fire Now Reader thou hast heard he had a minde Not morgag'd unto basenesse but inclin'd To honorable actions It was he That was the Embleme of true Charitie Yet some unworthy Spirit have exprest He was a son of Rome because his breast Was fill'd with pitty and would still relieve The Poor whose wants instructed him to grieve False are those base reports he was a man Always reputed a great Puritan And not a Papist and he had a care To have that hated Book of Common prayer Read to his Family himself would joyn His aid to any thing that was Divine The Church did seldom fail to entertain His Hoble self and his domestique traine Until this blessed Reformation spread It self abroad and struck Religion dead And then indeed his Conscience would refuse To let him hear some Rabshekah abuse His Gods Anointed and his reall heart Could not endure to hear time-servers dart Arrows of envie at his King and raile Aginst his Consort lab'ring to intaile Disgrace upon their names and fill the earth With heapes of errours and rebellious mirth These things his heart abhorr'd he could not hear His King abused with a patient ear He was the soul of Loyalty his minde Was alwayes active for he still inclin'd His thoughts to goodnesse striving how to bring Peace to his Country honour to his King He was a man that always us'd to fly Upon the wings of true sollidity He was compleat and rich in every part His tongue was never traytor to his heart But now ah now I shall make death too proud To speak it he hath lately left this cloud This world of envy and is gon t' inherit Those joyes which wait upon a noble Spirit Now now hee 's gon to heav'ns sublimer court Where Justice lives a place were false report Shall find no eare a place where none shall dye For being rich or wise their Loyalty Shall be respected there the weeping eyes Of Orphans shall be pitied there the cries Of Ladies pleading for their Lords shall finde A full respect where Vertue is refinde There must be happinesse oh think but where It is kinde Reader and brave Capels there There there he rests who stoutly trode the stage Of blood whose life whose death no age Will ever paralel his courage gave A life to death and pleasure to a grave He had a pleasing countenance his face Did seem to blush but 't was for their disgrace And not his guilt he hever seem'd t' expresse The least of fear but hasted to addresse Himself to heav'n and like a Stagge he bay'd At his unsatisfied hounds and lay'd His use before them and contemn'd their power Because he knew they only could devour His little world but for his soul that went Before a more consciencious Paliament Where now he rests in peacefulness and doubles His pleasures whilest

blowes Oh give me power to suffer not oppose Pardon my Enemies which have been strong And alwayes studious how to doe me wrong And though they 'ave vented that which is untrue Father forgive they know not what they do They hate their King are not pleas'd with any O grant good God they may not find too many The chiefest of their worke is to devoure Stones have usurpt their hearts as they my power Against the sound of Peace their eares are bar'd Oh never sure was Pharaohs heart so hard They dis-respect their King it was not so With Shadrach Meshach and Abeduego Their tongues have vilifi'd me oftentimes These three were never guilty of such Crimes Their hearts had vow'd obedience to their King And never try'd by force of Armes to bring Their own Designes to passe but their submission Sent comfort to their souls and much contrition To him whose more then seven times heated brest Did soon regreet what his hot rage exprest But well since thus it is I 'le strive to sway The Scepter of my miseries and lay A good foundation that my Foes may build Their torments on my breast which shall be fill'd With true content I 'le labour to support But yet must yeeld when death shal storm the fort I cannot start at death I know it brings A finis to my ancient griefs and sings Anthems of Peace how happy 's he that can Flie to his God and scorne the rage of Man Thunder ye Sons of Tyranny let rage Flash from your sulph'rous souls strive to ingage The flames of Etna too and let them dash Against my breast I 'le own them as a flash Flatter your souls prepare your hands to do A deed that Heav'n will not advise you to I pitty you my heart cannot forbeare To sigh and Nature too commands a teare Oh that my head like to a Fountaine could Furnish my eyes with teares oh then I would Begin the morning and conclude the day Whith Drops and wash the black-brow'd night away Oh let my language whet your dul belief 'T was you that fill'd my flowing heart with grief And now my Torments more and more excel Heav'n grant me breath enough to bid Farewel Farewel sad word that like a bolt of thunder Hath more then cleft my reaving heart in sunder Death's nothing like the sorrow which I finde Raising a towre of woe within my minde Thou partner of my soul how can I die And leave thee here to weep a Lullaby To my indulgent babes how can it be That I must leave so dear a spouse as thee Poor hearts If I must goe and leave you all Confus'd together in the common hall Of this inraged world what wil ye doe But mourne for me as I have mourn'd for you Oh where wil you retire your selves and spend Your groaning houres oh what regarding friend Wil give a minuits audience or relieve Your pining wants or mean to hear you grieve What Nation wil regard or entertaine A royal though a miserable traine This is a sorrow that divides my brest This is a grief that cannot be exprest Without a fractur'd heart this is a wound That makes confusion active to confound Were it a possibility to have Ten thousand Lyons lodg'd within this Cave This trunke of mine they could not more torment My heart then this unbounded discontent Should all the Tyrants in the world contrive A way to make a dying soul survive With living paine they never could exceed The Tyrants of these Times in such a deed I have been long imprison'd and at last Call'd to the bar how soon I may be cast Heav'n knows not I for they that were so bold To bring me thither will if not controul'd Force me to death their very looks declare Their resolutions whilst their hearts prepare To suck my veins Ah thus they have betray'd me And smile to see how glorious they have made me They swell'd like mountains and at last brought forth The Mouse of Reformation whose worth Is seated in all lofty braines and hurl'd Through every corner of th' inquiring World But why should I insist upon your Crimes May heav'n forgive you and send better times I know my dayes are short 't is therefore meet To leave this Crown and buy a winding sheet Be gone terrestriall pleasures for ye are But Goalers to your Keepers and insnare Your fond beleevers goe my heart 's no tombe To give you buriall seek some other roome Flie then my soul but stay what hand is this That seems to hold me from my long'd-for blisse More sorrows yet will not th' Almighty please 'T afford my soul on earth a minutes ease Oh thou that mak'st my harvest ful of paines Grant that my working soul may reap the gains Grief's grown a Polititian and it keeps A strong reserve what eye is this that weeps These briny teares into my fluent heart As if those flouds should drownd me e're I part What voice is this I seem to hear what tones Are these that lavish out themselves in groanes What ayles my thoughts what neer related breath Is this that seems to breath a sudden death Into my panting breast methinks I heare A female voice cry must I languish here Hard-hearted death why art thou thus unkinde To take him hence and leave me here behinde To weep his obsequies draw up thy boe And send me whither I desire to goe Shoot shoot oh Death thou shalt not be withstood Come dip thy arrowes in my crimson bloud Fear not let flie and let thy rovers hide Their twi-fork'd heads within my wounded side Oh Heav'n since thou wert pleas'd to joyn our hands And hearts together let thy strict cōmands Urge death to strike us both that we may fly And dedicate our souls t' eternity Alas what joy what comfort can accrew To me when he shall bid this world adue I liv'd within his heart but ah if he Shall quit this earth what life remaines in me Alas sad heart what canst thou doe but pine Never could grief be parallel'd with mine I am the Sea of grief all streams doe tend Towards me for ah my sorrowes know no end The sturdy winds of care and trouble blowes Into my soul my Ocean alwayes flowes And never ebbes oh miserable age How am I made a subject to their rage Whose pare-boyl'd souls observes no other dyet But bloud and seeme to rest in our disquiet You all-exceeding Tyrants if ye thirst For royall blood be pleas'd to take mine first Mines but a draught yee 'le quickly swil it up Alas it wil not yeeld each soul a sup You are the fountains from whose brests do spring The streames of murder and your souls can sing Nothing but bloody notes you can contract The body of all mischief and enact What pleases you But will you subjugate Your legall King whose patience is your hate But if you seek his fatall overthrow Ye'le murder more then thousands at one blow But why doe I thus

tears but rather joy that I Am gone before you to Eternitie Where now me thinks I see you all and hear The lofty Seraphims salute my ear With heav'n-bred raptures which does even woo My soul out of my ears I long to go And fill my self with melody and sing Perpetuall Halelujahs to my King So now my wasting lamp begins to blaze Come Death and put a period to my dayes Let out my life that I may flie unto My God and bid this loathed world adieu Adieu vain pleasures of unconstant earth Adieu false joys and world-derived mirth My dear Relations I must now expresse A farewell to you all and then addresse My self to Heaven within whose Court I shall My soul now tels me shortly meet you all Till then enjoy what heav'n shall please to give And rather study how to die then live Make use of time and languish not in vain Those hours which cannot be recall'd again Comfort each other and if fortune frown Smile ye at fortune lay your sorrows down Before the face of Heav'n and he 'l relieve Your pining wants oh let your hearts not grieve For food and raiment labour to be true And he that feeds the Ravens will feed you Oh let your morning thoughts be sure to mount To Heav'ns high Altar give him an account Of all your actions they which every day Make their accounts to God prepare a way To go to heav'n But time will give me leave T' expresse no more my soul begins to cleave Unto a blest Eternitie my heart Declares unto me that I must depart Time whets his sithe Oh do not ring my knell With sighs and sobs farewel my Joys farewell So now the Load-stone of this world shall have No art t' attract my soul I 'll not enslave My self to earth shall transitory toyes Surrept my soul from heavens eternall Joys Oh no they shall not Now I 'll dedicate My self to thee my God who didst create Both soul and body thou that knowst the thoughts And hearts of Kings and numerates their faults Pardon what I have done amiss to thee Forgive my enemies Thou knowst I 'm free From what I suffer for thou knowst my hands Are cleer from blood thou knowst that my Commands Were not tyranical thou knowst my brest Was never stain'd with Treason My request O God is this that thou wouldst make them know And timely feel what a most wilfull blow Th 'ave given to their Consciences oh turn Their flaming hearts to thee which daily burn Against thy servants cause them to relent And let their griefs induce them to repent Be mercifull to them as they were cruel To me and mine oh quench the blazing fuel Of their desires gives them not their deserts But wash my blood from their unfountain'd hearts And as for me presented to thy eyes Suppos'd as an attoning Sacrifice By them whose seven-years malice have contriv'd My downfall when my body is disliv'd Receive my soul into thy glorious Tent And mak 't a member of thy Parliament Now farewel world and dirt-composed Crowns Farewel earths smiles and fortunes surly frowns Farewel to you that thus my life expell Oh may my farewell make you all farewell Reader the sound of death hath made me start Out of my slumbers and my wak'ned heart Trembles within me Oh what shall we doe Oh may I never dream to dream thus true But since 't is so kind Reader let thy eie Survay the paths of his sad Elegie Lavish not out your tears too fast but keep A strong reserve your eyes must bleed or weep Till then adue and when I meet thee there Reader assure thy self I 'le spend a teare AN ELEGY UPON That never to be forgotten CHARLS THE FIRST Late but too soon Martyr'd KING of England Scotland France and Ireland Who with unmoved Constancy laid down His Life t' exchange it for a heav'nly Crown January 30. 1648. In adibus Regum Mors venit Printed in the Year 1649. AN ELEGIE UPON That never to be forgotten CHARLES THE FIRST WHat do I dream or does my fancy scatter Into my various mind a reall matter What ails my thoughts what uncorrected passion Is this that puts my Senses out of fashion Where am I hurri'd what sanguinious place Is this I breathe in garnish'd with disgrace Why what 's the reason that my eys behold These waves of blood Does the Red sea infold My shivering body Oh what stormy weather Was that which violently tost me hither Where am I now what rubicundious light Is this that bloudies my amazed sight What Reformation's this that 's newly bred And turns my white into so deep a red Awake my fancy come delude no more Say are my feet upon the English shore Sure not these are usurping thoughts that raine Within the Kingdom of a troubl'd braine If this be England oh what alteration Is lately bred within so blest a Nation My soul is now assured for I see Those lofty Structures where mild Majesty Did once recide abounding with a flood That swells and almost moates them round with blood England sad object that wer'● lately crown'd With a most glorious prince how art ' thou drownd In Royall bloud was not thy master-veine Open'd of late ah who can stop't againe Look round about thee and thou shalt descry How every face imports an Elegy Review thy self see how thou art ingrain'd With guiltlesse blood was ever Land so stain'd Needs must your hearts expect a cloudy night Now Sol is set and Cynthia wants her light And dost thou think O England to immure Thy self in bloud and alwayes rest secure Oh no assure thy self there is a hand That rules above which will correct thy land Be well advis'd oh Nation learn to know That language cannot ebb when bloud shal flow All hearts all eyes all hands all tongues all Quillt Will think wil weep wil write speak their wills I 'le not invoke this Subject will invite Th' obdurest hearts and teach that pen to write Which never fram'd a Letter and infuse The seed of Life into a barren Muse Thou gre●● Instructer teach me to distil An Eagles Uertues with an Eagles quil Rais'd by a f●ll my Muse begins to sing The melancholy farewels of a KING And is he gone I did not the dolefull Bells Dissolve when as they t●ld his sad Farewills If he be gone what language can there be Remaining in this Land except Ah me Ah me Ah lass how is this Realm unblest In such a loss I cannot speak the rest My Heart is full of Arrows shot of late From the stiff Bow of a commanding STATE Each wound is mortall yet in spight of pain I le pluck them out and shoot them back again And when my tongue shall empty out my heart Let Death surprize me with a single Dart I le strive t' outface Rebellion and my eyes Shall s 〈…〉 n all new invented Tyrannies Sorrow will not be tongue ty'd tides must run Their usuall