Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	day_n	die_v	end_n	4,289	5	5.3574	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B06170	The tormented lovers. Maidens lament their present state, and count they meet with rigid fate; but e're they will their minds explain, they'l dye of their tormenting pain. To a pleasant play-house tune, called, Oh love! if e're thoul't ease a heart.		1680 (1680)	Wing T1915; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.8[448]	1,373	2

The Tormented Lovers Maidens Lament their present State And count they meet with rigid Fate But e're they will their minds explain They 'l dye of their Tormenting Pain To a pleasant Play-house Tune called Oh Love if e're thou l't ease a Heart O Love if e're thou 'lt ease a Heart that owns thy power Divine That Bleeds with thy too cruel Dart Yea Burns with never ceasing smart take pitty now on mine Beneath the shades I fainting lye Ten-Thousand times I wish to dye Yet when I find cold Death draw nigh I grive to loose my pleasing pain and call my Wishes back again Thus I sate musing all alone in the shady myrtle Grove As to my self I made a moan And every Eccho gave a Groan came by the Man I Lov'd Oh! How I strove my Griefs to hide I Panted Sigh'd and almost Dy'd Yet did each tatling Eccho chide for fear some Breath of moving Air should to his Ears my Sorrows bear And ●ow you Powers I dye to gain but one poor parting Kiss Yet will endure this deadly pain E're I 'le one Wish or Thought retain that Honour thinks amiss Thus are poor maids unkindly us'd By Love and Nature both abus'd All kinds of Comforts are refus'd for when we burn with secret Flame we hide our griefs or dye with shame Such Torments we poor Maids endure the like was never known In any former Age 't is sure Nor can we hope to find a cure which moves us thus to moan In secret places where we lye Each Minute ready for to dye And all in vain for help we cry For comfortless we still remain tortur'd with grief and wreckt with pain OVr Lives are comfortless to us except we them injoy Who cause us for to Languish thus who 'd think the want of one poor Buss could Maidens thus annoy That night and day we should Lament And wast away in discontent Our Follies still we do repent but 't is in vain for 't is too late for to lament our rigid fate We must these Torments still endure except Men prove more kind Nought else to us can joy procure Or bring that Bliss which will endure as comfort to the mind Languishing thoughts do us consume And in the end will prove our doom Yea bring each Maiden to her Tomb who can her Love no ways obtain but dies because she Loves in vain What rigid fate is this we meet each hour of every day Whilst Men their days are blest and sweet In e'ry part our Pulses beat and we consume away Where 's Cupids court of equity For Poets say it so should be But such a thing I ne'r could see which forces me for to complain although I find 't is all in vain Then let us bid this World farewell since we no joys can find Elizium will this place excell For this to us is present Hell tormenting every mind Who feels the smart of Cupids Bow Is weary of her Life I know She doth Torments undergo and therefore will be free to part from this sad world to ease her Heart Yet those who can their Loves injoy thrice happy sure are they Nothing on Earth can them annoy What crosses can their Bliss destroy who surfeit every day Banquets of Kisses do they fast VVhile we for want consume and wast Vnto the Grave then let us hast for Death must be our chiefest friend and put our Sorrows to an end Tormented Heart then brake and dye since I 'me so flighted here In flames of fire I scorch and fry And so shall do perpetually till I injoy my dear VVhich if I never can obtain To hope to Live as all in vain For I with Sorrow shall be Slain yet freely will this VVord depart with a true Lovers Broken-Heart London Printed for Charles Passenger on London-Bridge