Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	cut_v	young_a	youth_n	67	3	7.8475	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A31143	The Harmony of the muses, or, The gentlemans and ladies choisest recreation full of various, pure and transcendent wit : containing severall excellent poems, some fancies of love, some of disdain, and all the subjects incident to the passionate affections either of men or women / heretofore written by those unimitable masters of learning and invention, Dr. Joh. Donn, Dr. Hen. King, Dr. W. Stroad [et al].	R. C.; Donne, John, 1572-1631.; King, Henry, 1592-1669.; Strode, William, 1600 or 1601-1645.	1654 (1654)	Wing C105; ESTC R9732	41,392	112

pardon thy impurity For do with one with a thousand thou'lt turn Whore Break Ice in one place and it cracks in more Do but with King to Subject thou wilt fall From Lord to Lackey and at last to all An Embleme of Youth Age and Death expressed in a Cherry-stone on the one side is cut a young Damsel on the other an old Beldam The stone Hyeroglifically expresseth Death FAir Mistris be not over-coy In entertaining of this toy The Morall of its pretty Art D●serves a lodging next your heart ●or 't is an Emblem fairest trust me Of what you are now and what you must be Except that envious Death prevent Rich Natures first benigne intent Then doth the gospel of the Stone Prove life and death to dwell in one For this poor Moddel which you view Did sometimes wear as rich a hew As nature gives to any fair Whilst it grew blushing in the Air Whose tempting colour and whose taste Brought it to what you see at last Nay had it hung still on the Tree It would have prov'd the same you see Save that the Artists hand alone For your sake hath his cunning shown Then rarest object of my sight Unfold this three-fold Riddle right And learn from it your April years Bloomes not more fruit of joy then fears And that your beauty is a treasure By Nature lent you at whose pleasure You must restore it when she 'l call And give account for use and all And that your winter fro●ty dayes Brings Almond-buds instead of Bayes To crown your temples and with glory To close the period of your story If those rich Jems which should have lasted Have not in your youth been wasted But Prodigal-like if thou have spent Natures bo●●ies being but lent A●d t●en your last of dayes is come To give you summons to your home You must with grief return to dust She will no longer lend on trust Your beauties Reliques as this Stone Will be a dry contemned bone Perhaps like it some friend vouchsafe To grave thereon your Epitaph Which may be read if not neglected This is the most can be expected Sir S. Steward To his Lady SO may my Verses pleasing be So may you laugh at them and not at me 'T is something to you I would gladly say But how to do it cannot find the way I would avoid the common trodden wayes To Ladies us'd which be of Love or praise As for the first that little wit I have Is not yet grown so neer unto the ●rave But that I can by that dim fading light Perceive of what and unto whom I write Let such as in a hopeless witless rage Can sigh a Quire and read it to a Page Such as can make ten Sonnets ere they rest When each is but a great blot at the best Such as can backs of books and windows fill With their too furious Diamond or Quill Such as are well resolved to end their dayes With a lowd laughter blown beyond the Seas Such as are mortified that they can live Laught at by all the world and yet forgive Wright love to you I would not willingly Be pointed at in every company As was the little Taylor who till death Was great in love with Queen Elizabeth And for the last in all my idle dayes ● never yet did living woman praise ●n Verse or Prose And when I do begin ●le pick some woman out as full of sin ●s you are full of Vertue with a soul ●s black as yours is white a face as foul ●s yours is beautifull for it shall be ●ut of the Rules of Phisiognomie ●o far that I do fear I must displace the Art a little to let in the face ● shall at least four faces be below the Devils and her parched corps shall show ●n her loose skin as if some spirit she were K●pt in a bag by some great Conjurer Her breath shall be so horrible and vild As every word you speak is meet and mild It shall be such a one as will not be Covered with any Art or Policie But let her take all waters fumes and drink She shall make nothing but a dearer stink She shall have such a foot and such a nose As will not stand in any thing but Prose If I bestow my praises upon such 'T is Charity and I shall merit much My praise will come to her like a full bowl Bestowed at most need on a thirsty soul Where if I sing your praises in my Rime I loose my Ink my paper and my ti●● Adde nothing to your overflowing store And tel you nought but what you knew before Nor do the vertuous minded which I swear Madam I think you are endure to hear Their own perfections into question brought But stop their ears at them for if I thought You took a pride to have your vertues known Pardon me Madam I should think them none But if you brave thoghts which I must respect Above your glorious Titles shall accept These harsh disordered Lines I shall ere long Dress up your vertues new in a new Song Yet farre from all base praise or flattery Although I know what ere my Verses be They will like the most servile flattery shew If I write truth and make my subject you A Description of a wisht Mistris NOt that I wish my Mistris Or more or less then what she is Write I ●●ese Lines for 't is too late ●ules to prescribe unto my Fate ●ut as those tender stomacks call ●or some choice meats that like not all ●o queafie Lovers do impart What Mistris 't is must take their heart First I would have her richly sped With Natures blossomes white and red For flaming hearts will quickly dye That have no fewell from the eye Yet this alone will never win Unless some treasure lye within For where the spoil 's not worthy stay Men raise the Siege and march away She should be wise enough to know When and to whom a grace to show For she that doth at randome chuse Will sure her choyse as well refuse And yet methinks I 'd have her mind To loving courtesie inclin'd And tender-hearted as a Maid And pitty only when I pray'd And I would wish her true to be Mistake me not I mean to me She that loves one and loves one more Will love the Kingdome ore and ore I could wish her full of wit So she knew how to huswife it But she whose insolence makes her dare To try her wit will sell her Ware Some other things delight will bring As if she dance or play or sing If hers be safe what though her parts Catch then a thousand forreign hearts But let me see should she be proud A little pride must be allow'd Each amourous boy will sport prate Too freely if she find no state I care not much though I set down Sometime a chiding or a frown Eut if she wholly quench desire 'T is hard to kindle a new fire To smile to toy