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	end_n	life_n	8,116	5	4.5798	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A54763	In memory of Our Late Most Gracious Lady, Mary, Queen of Great-Britain, France, and Ireland a poem / by John Phillips.	Phillips, John, 1631-1706.	1695 (1695)	Wing P2086; ESTC R1621	2,694	14

IN MEMORY Of Our Late Most Gracious Lady MARY Queen of Great-Britain France and Ireland A POEM By Mr. IOHN PHILLIPS LONDON Printed for Iohn Harris at the Harrow in the Poultry MDCXCV IN MEMORY Of Our Late Most Gracious Lady MARY Queen of Great-Britain France and Ireland I Would begin but know not how The Subject's Great tho' vail'd with Sorrow now Since Death that only cou'd Has lay'd the Illustrious Theam so low We grant howe're Distinction still in Dust For future Ages as a Sacred Trust In Veneration to the Grave allow'd With Sumptuous Mausoleum's hid it lies Yet still the poor unhappy Mortal dyes Unfortunate Race of proud Mankind By an eternal Doom o're all Impartial To a few Years of crazy Life confin'd And only in their primitive Dust Immortal As if no other way could have been found For Nature's Wheel to have turn'd round When this same Nature that in Time's Abyss Long had drowsie lain before Rouz'd into Action by a greater Power First warmly brooded o're the Pregnant Mass And all the World was perfeted in Man She Step-dame turn'd and would not Life bequeath But on strict Terms to have it back again That was but lent She cry'd and streight ordain'd Her grand Plenipotentiary Death Her Debt with utmost Rigour to demand Nor Prince nor Peasant spare said she No Age or Sex no Title or Degree And least the Task should be too great for One Gave him a Train of numerous Diseases From which in vain the silly Fugitives run To lonely Rocks and distant Wildernesses Death searches every Nook and every Hole From the Antarctic to the Artic Pole And the magnificent Structure Body and Mind First rais'd by Gods in Council join'd In dreary Darkness lays tho' we are safely bold And hope we shall once more a brighter Light behold To these harsh Laws subjected fell Great-Britain's QUEEN Too good to Dye had She not mortal been The Phoenix of Her Age Thrice happy I 'le If such another from her Funeral Pile Might have renew'd the Glory of her Throne Let Ancient Story lasting Altars raise To Chast Zenobia or Drusilla's Praise Drusilla She who by Augustus side Iove's Themis and his Metis both supply'd Let Modern Records tell who loud Encomiums won For single Vertues found distinct in every One Here Heav'ns Perfections all in full Resort Kept both a Sacred and a Splendid Court All center'd in our QUEEN Earth's Admiration As many Stars make up one Constellation She was the Goddess in her towring Sphere The rest but Demi-Goddesses to Her The Best of Queens the Best of Wives the Best of Friends For Friend and Wife if not reciprocall The Tye dissolves and the Relation ends Thus piously instructed She When the Chief Master of the Family A Family no less then Three wide Realms And yet but one continu'd Houshold all Waging Just Wars abroad exchang'd soft Ease And Conjugal Delights for Martial Toil To stem th' Invasion that all Europe overwhelms She the Indulgent Mistress all the while At home kept all in Order all in Peace And the vast Houshold liv'd releas'd from Fear O'reshadow'd by her Providential Care While She from Dover-Cliffs to distant Thule By One Obeying Millions learnt to Rule Like Cynthia thus the farther from her Sun She still more brightly and more dazling shon Had Salem's King for Wisdom so Renown'd Been now alive with all his Glory Crown'd Excited by her Fame alone He would have left Iudea's pompous Throne And to this Wonder of her Sex have pay'd The Visit which to Him Sabaean Princess made Dost thou not Nature now repent Thy Primitive Rigour and Austere Decree That blinded Fate and laid that strict Restraint On Death inexorable made by Thee Permit Us to accuse thy Conduct Thou That to Harts and Ravens odly dost allow Long Useless Life but to a narrow Span Hast warp'd the Days of the World 's Sov'raign Man In this more cruel and th' unequal Friend Of thy lov'd Darling dire Mortality That still the Vertuous soonest meet their End The gaudy Morsels they cull'd out by Death His Tast to pamper and perfume his Breath When over-glutted with the vulgar Fry Yet Heaven is surely their design'd Abode Could there no other way to Heaven be found But through the Grave and Darkness under Ground 'T is somewhat hard if Mortals might complain And Man be the inferiour World's proud Sovereign That Nature should his Kingship thus controul For him to want the poor Prerogative That Vertue should not always Vice out-live Soonest and that renews our just Complaints That Heav'n shou'd be so eager that abounds in Saints Had she prolong'd her Days and walk'd with God Or in a fiery Chariot shun'd the common Road We never had repin'd To see th' Anointed Union broke But to be swept away among the Vulgar Croud That makes us ' wail the fatal Stroke And want of Heav'ns Exemption twice so kind Yet all the while to only Two confin'd But whether rambles my Enthusiast Muse Oh Grief 's a Phrensie frequently trranscends Those Bounds which only Rapture can excuse And oft in vain with Fate and Heav'n contends Thus argu'd the Chaldean deep and loud Tho' otherwise for Patience so renown'd When by the Burthen of his Anguish bow'd Then Grief retire thou hast thy Tribute duly paid The rest in Annual Rites must be display'd For when a Saint like ours to Heaven ascends Grief stays below And only Joy the Seraphim attends Our Tears on Earth to certain Measures are restrain'd For should our long excessive Moans Like Niobe congeal us into Stones No Mortal yet e'er saw restor'd What the relentless Grave has once devour'd Thus Thirty Days In Moab's Plains by their loud Grief detain'd The Sacred Host of Israel wept When their Divine Commander slept And God conceal'd Their Captain and his Friend 'T is but Self Int'rest still With grudging Tears to wail Her endless Gain While only we deplore the Loss our Selves sustain For now Our Saint e're this in Bright Seraphick State Has made her publick Entry through the Iaspar Gate Where she through Walls of vast Transparent Gems And Starry Lustre into Tresses curl'd Looks down with Pity on the Wicked World Vouchsafe a Royal Saint an Apotheosis So just to be allow'd as this For why should gaudy Superstition claim The Keys of Paradice And real Sanctity not have the same Or Greater Privilege to Canonize She wore a Crown on Earth Who can surmise That she should lose her Crown by going to Heav'n Nor would the Question be too closely driv'n Where the Effects of Prayer to Saints would fall Should Rome on Hers we on Our MARY call Now Towring Muse descend again And to the cheared World explain Th' Enigma of our Joy and Sorrow Subaltern So blended that at once we both Rejoice and Mourn We thought th' Omnipotent at first provok'd And our Disaster with Impatience brook'd Britannia languishing with Arms across To see her Welfare weltring in her Loss But then Fresh Joys Arriv'd Finding Victorious WILLIAM still surviv'd And to his Peoples Hearts more closely joyn'd By New Espousals of Address'd Affection Britannia then Acknowledg'd Heav'n less Angry and more Kind The more she stood in need of Heav'ns Protection Long may He be still Arm'd in our Defence The Care of wakefull Providence And long may be his Martial Flame The Terrour of proud Bourbon's Hated Name For Mighty Works and Wonderfull Events Heav'n still prepares Heroic Instruments Him all Men grant the Instrument prepar'd And by the Gallick Titan only fear'd Should His Support by Prudence Fortunate Once fail the Common Cause I dread the Fate Of Europe all into Confusion hurl'd Like the Unbolted Frame of the Dissolving World But This our Hope and This our Joy sustains Tho' MARY's gone yet WILLIAM still remains FINIS