Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	cruel_a	young_a	youth_n	55	3	7.7235	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A04626	A treatise of patience in tribulation first, preached before the Right Honourable the Countesse of Southampton in her great heauines for the death of her most worthy husband and sonne: afterward inlarged for the helpe of all that are any way afflicted crossed or troubled. By William Iones B. of D. and P. of Arraton in the Isle of Wight. Herevnto are ioyned the teares of the Isle of Wight, shed on the tombe of their most noble Captaine Henrie Earle of Southampton and the Lord Wriothesly his sonne.	Jones, William, b. 1581 or 2.	1625 (1625)	STC 14747; ESTC S107863	31,017	54

man'd your Cities and instead of stones Helpt you to build your Bulwarks with our bones Nor had your Castles now vnbattered stood Had not your slime ben tempered with our blood All this we did and more are still content With men munition mony to preuent Your future ruine Hence with warie speede Our state sent ouer to your latest neede Ten Noble heads and twice ten thousand hands All prest to execute their wise commands Mongst them our good Southampton and his ioy Deare Iames in hart a man in age a boy But oh your fatall fields vnhappie soile Accurst Acheldama foule den of spoile Deaths Hospitall like Hell the place of woe Admit all commers but nere let them goe Churl 's to your aide we sent strong liuing forces And you in lieu returne vs liuelesse corses Ah Noble Lords went you so farre to haue Your Death and yet come home to seeke a graue VII To the young Lord. BRight starre of Honour what celestiall fires 〈…〉 thy youthfull bloud that thy desires Mount vp so fast to Glories highest Spheres So farre beyond thine equalls and thy yeares Whil'st others Noblie borne ignoblie staine Their bloud and youth with manners base and vaine Thou to thy Fathers holie lessons lending Thine eare and to his liue's faire patterne bending Thy steps did'st daily learne for sport or need Nimblie to mount and man thy barbed steed Fairelie thy serious thoughts to write or speake Stoutlie vpon thy foe thy lance to breake It did not with thine actiue spirit suite To wast thy time in fingring of a Lute Or sing mong'st Cupids spirits a puling Dittie To moue some femall Saint to loue or pittie T' was Musick to thine eare in ranged batle To heare sad Drums to grone harsh Trumpets ritle Or see when clouds of bloud do rent in sunder The pouders lightning and the Canons thunder And when thou might'st at home haue liued free From cares and feares in soft securitie Thou scorning such dishonorable ease To all the hazards both of land and sea 's Against Religions and thy Countries foes Franklie thy selfe and safetie did'd expose O Sacred virtue thy mild modest glances Rais'd in his tender heart these amorous trances For thy deare loue so dearely did he weane His youth from pleasures and from lusts vncleane And so in thy straight narrow paths still treading He found the way to endlesse glorie leading VIII But soft sad Muse t is now no fitting taske The prayses of his well spent Youth t' vnmaske To sing his pious cares his studious night's His thriftie daies his innocent delights Or tell what store of vsefull obseruations He gain'd at home and mong'st the neighbring Nations Leaue we this virgin theame vntouch't vntainted Till some more happie hand so liuely paint it That all Posteritie may see and read His liuing virtues when hee 's cold and dead IX SWeet Youth what made thee hide thine amorous face And cheekes scarce downie in a steelie case And like yong Cupid vnder Mars his sheild Mongst men of armes to braue it in the field Thought'st thou o fondling cruell death would pitty The faire the yong the noble wise and witty More then the foule and foolish base and old Oh no the tirant bloudy blind and bold All the wide world in single combate dareth And no condition sex or age he spareth X. YEt some supposed since in open fight Thou had'st so often scap't his murdering might That sure he fear'd to throw his fatall dart Against thine innocent faith-armed heart Yet sooth to say t was thy sweet louely youth That so often mou'd flint-harted Death to ruth Though now intangled in thy locks of amber The inamour'd monster dogs thee to thy chamber And there alas to end the mortall strife He rauish thee of beautie and of life XI To Nature NAture although we learne in Graces schoole That children must not call their mother foole Yet when we see thee lauishly to burne Two or three lights when one would serue the turne When we perceiue thee through affection blind Cocker the wicked to the good vnkind Ready the stinking rankest Weeds to cherish When Lillies Violets and sweet Roses perish Wee cannot chuse but tell thee 't is our thought That age or weaknesse Nature makes thee dote XII Natures reply to the Censure VAine men how dare yee in your thoughts vnholy Mee nay your Maker to accuse of folly And all impatient with your plaints importune Heav'n Earth and Hell Death Destiny and Fortune When 't is not these poore Instruments that cause Your Crosses but the neuer changing Lawes Of your Almightie mercifull Creator Who sitting supreme Iudge and Moderator Of mens affaires doth gouerne and dispence All by his All-disposing Prouidence And equally his glorious ends aduances By good or bad happy or haplesse chances XIII To the Right Honourable Elizabeth Countesse of Southampton GReat and good Lady though wee know full well What tides of griefe in your sad brest doe swell Nor can in this our simple mourning Verse The thousand'th part of your deepe cares reherse Yet as the lesser rivulets and fountaines Run hastning from the Fields the Meads Mountaines Their siluer streames into the Sea to poure So flow our tributary teares to your That from the boundlesse Ocean of your sorrow Our eyes new springs our harts new griefs may borrow XIIII Eidem COuld we as easily comfort as complaine Then haply this our charitable paine Might merit from your grieued heart some thanks But oh our griefs so swell aboue the banks Of shallow custome and the feeble fences That are oppos'd by Reason Art or Senses That if Religion rul'd not our affections And pacifi'd our passions insurrections We should in mourning misse both meane and scope And sorrow Pagan-like sans Faith or Hope XV. Eidem MAdam though we but aggrauate your Crosses Thus sadly to repeat your former losses Whil'st you sit comfortlesse as all vndone Mourning to lack an Husband and a Sonne Yet may it giue your grieued heart some ease To saile with company in sorrow's Sea 's To thinke in them you are not tost alone But haue the Kingdome partner in your mone To thinke that those for whom you weep are blest Lodg'd in the heauenly harbour where they rest Secure nere more to grieue to want to feare To sin to Die or to let fall a teare So though heauens high Decree haue late bereft you Of two at once yet hath his bountie left you Many faire daughters and a sonne t' inherit Your Loue our Honour and his Fathers Spirit W. P. The least part of the shadow of Southamptons worth GReat Lord thy losse though I surcease to mourne Sith Heauen hath found Thee yet I 'le take my turne to wait vpon thy Obsequies a while And traile my Pen with others of my File And tell thy worth th' effects where of wee felt That in the lists of thy command haue dwelt Religions Champion Guardian of that Isle Which is the Goshen of Great

cure two such in whose know'n valour lay Your Countries weale For whom you should haue show'n The vtmost of that Art that e're was know'n Or practiz'd amongst artists and haue stroue T' haue turn'd the course of Nature and t' haue droue Things to their pristin state reducing Men Meerly to Elements and thence agen Moulding them vp anew preseruing life In spight of death and sharpe diseases strife Dull leaden Doctors Leiden is too good For you poore men that neuer vnderstood More wayes of Physicke than to giue a drench To cure the big-swolne Dutch or wasted French Pardon you neighbour Nations what I had Of reason's yours but griefe hath made me mad How durst you to such men such boldnesse show As t' practise with those parts you did not know Or meddle with those veines that none should strike But those that had beene practiz'd in the like Alas you knew not how their bodies stood Their veines abounded with a Nobler blood Of a farre purer dye and farre more rife VVith actiue spirits of a nimbler life Than e're before you practiz'd on May all The sicknesses that on our nature fall And vex rebellious man for his foule sin Seize on you all throughout without within For this presumptuous deed and want of skill And may such potions as haue pow'r to kill Be all your physicke yet corrected striue To weare you out and keepe you long aliue But O mee think's I raue 'T is time to end When 'gainst the rules I loue I so offend Pardon you learned Artists well I know Your skill is great and you not spar'd to show The vtmost of it Yet when all 's assay'd The debt to God and nature must be pay'd You precious Vrus that hold that Noble dust Keepe safe the wealth committed to your trust And you deare Reliques of that ample worth That whilom through your crenices shin'd forth That now haue put off Man and sweetly lye T' expect your Crowne of Immortality Rest there repos'd vntouch't and free from care Till you shall meet your soules with them to share In that rich glory wherein now they shine Disdaining all that 's not like them Diuine Where I assur'd againe to see and greet you Resolue to weepe till I goe out to meet you Ità non cecinit at verè pijssimeque flevit Ille dolet verè qui sine teste dolet Certaine touches vpon the Life and Death of the Right Honourable HENRIE Earle of Southampton and his true Image IAMES the Lord Wriothesley his eldest Sonne TO THE READER REader beleeue me 't is not Gaine nor Fame That makes me put in my neglected Name Mong'st learned Mourners that in Sable Verse Doe their last Honour to this dolefull Herse Nor did these Lords by liuing bountie tie To Them and to their Heires my Poetry For to speake plainly though I am but poore Yet neuer came I knocking to their doore Nor euer durst my low obscuritie Once creepe into the luster of their die Yet since I am a Christian and suppose My selfe obliged both with Verse and Prose Both with my Pencills and my Pens best Art With eye tongue heart and hand and euery part In each right Noble well-deseruing Spirit To honour Vertue and commend true merit Since first I breath'd and liu'd within the Shire That giues a Title to this honoured Peere Since twelue long Winters I my little Flock Fedin that Isle that wal'd with many a rock And circled with the Maine against her shore Hear 's the proud Ocean euery day to rore And sitting there in sun-shine of his Glory Saw his faire Vertues read his lifes true Story Who see 's not I haue reason to make one In this Isle's Churches Countries common mone Or thinks that in his losse I haue no part When the whole Kingdome seems to feele the smart Let him that list his griefs in silence mutter I cannot hold my plaints I needs must vtter I must lament and sigh and write and speake Lest while I hold my tongue my heart should breake W. PETTIE I. To the Right Honourable HENRY Earle of Southampton THe changing World and the Eternall Word Nature Art Custome Creatures all accord To proue if any doubted that we must Since All haue sin'd all die and turne to dust But deare SOVTHAMPTON since deserued praise Came thronging on Thee faster then thy dayes Since thy Immortall Vertues then were seene When thy graue head was gray to be most greene VVe fooles began to hope that thy lifes date Was not confined to our common fate But that thou still should'st keep the worlds faire Stage Acting all parts of goodnesse that Each Age Succeeding ours might in thy action see What Vertue in them dead did liue in Thee II. BVt oh vaine thoughts though late we find alas The fairest flowers that th' earth brings forth are grass Wealth Honor Wisdome Grace nor Greatnesse can Adde one short moment to the life of Man Time will not stay and the proud King of feanes Not mov'd by any Presents Prayers or teares Doth trample downe fraile flesh and from the wombe Leads vs away close prisoners to the tombe III. To both the Lords ANd you braue Lords the glorie of your Peeres More laden with your Honors then your yeeres Deare to Your Soueraigne faithfull to the State Friends to Religion ill men's feare and hate Death as his Captiues here hath laid full lowe And left your friends long legacies of woe Griefe to your Country to your house sad losses T' our Armies dread to our designements crosses IIII. To the Liuing TEll me yee liuing wights what marble heart Weying our wants doth not with sorrow smart To see those glorious Starres that shin'd so cleere In our disconsolate darke Hemisphere To see these Pillars whose firme Basies prop't Our feeble State the Cedars that oretop't The ayric clouds yeelding to Birds a Neast Shadow and shelter to the wearied Beast Now by Death's bloudie hand cut downe defaced Their Light ecclipsed and their height abased V. To Death YEt boast not cruell Tyrant of thy spoyle since with thy conquest thou hast won the foile For they O happy Soules diuinely armed Could not though hit be with thine arrowes harmed Thus robbed not of Beeing but of Breath Secure they triumph ouer stinglesse Death And while their pure immortall part inherits The heauenly blisse with glorified Spirits Their dust doth sleepe in hope and their good name Liue's in th' eternall Chronicles of fame VI. To the Hollanders vpon the returne of the Lords Corpes HOlland t' is knowne that you vnto our Nation Haue long bin linc'kt in friendlie Combination T' is knowne that we to you haue daily duly All offices of loue performed truely You still haue had protection from our Forts Trade to our Townes and harbour in our Ports When big-swolne Spaine you threatend to deuour We to your weaker ioyn'd our stronger power And our old souldiers willingly vnprest Ran to your wars as fast as to some feast We