Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	dead_a	good_a	life_n	4,483	5	4.5706	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A18746	The miserie of Flaunders, calamitie of Fraunce, misfortune of Portugall, vnquietnes of Irelande, troubles of Scotlande: and the blessed state of Englande. VVritten by Tho. Churchyarde Gent. 1579	Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604.	1579 (1579)	STC 5243; ESTC S105033	11,649	39

weare The sonne hymself the father would begile And brother still of brother stoode in feare With poison foule and murther euery wheare The countrey through was spred and plaged sore And for to make the scourge and mischeef more One frende by crafte the other would betraie And suretie none in Princes pallaice stoode The house of God where people ought to praie And aulter stone was daiely stainde with blood The streats was filde with corses vilie slaine And in the streame and floud the babes were flong And Ladies throats with kniues were cutte in twaine There was no hope when larumbell was rong Bothe wiues with childe and little children yong Were stabbed in with Daggers diuers waies Some from their bedds were floung amid the streete Suche murthers Lorde were in those bloodie daies As women laie without a cloute or sheete All deade and bare a rufull sight to see In open plaine yea men of auncient yeers Were mangled sore and some of high degree And noble race and of the Deuze Peers Were naked lefte and wounded to the death And goodlie girlls laie groulyng voide of breath In market place the furie was so greate The rage was suche that none might scape the sworde Nor nothyng could ne coole nor quenche the heate Of Ciuill warre that bothe at bedde and borde Was bloodie still and yet the more was slaine The more the broile and greef began againe To tell you all their battailes here a rowe Would moue your minde and heauie harte to tears At sondrie tymes their owne reporte doeth showe And good recorde thereof true witnesse bears Thei lost in feeld twoo hundreth thousande men Yet still their mindes on murther ran so faste Thei went about nothyng but bloodshed then To sight it out as long as life might laste Reuenge did woorke and weaue an endlesse webbe Desire of will a wofull threede did spinne The floode of hate that neuer thinks of ebbe A swellyng Sea of strife brought gushyng in The rooted wrathe had spred suche braunches out That leaues of loue were blasted on the bowe Yet spitfull twiggs began so faste to sprout That from the harte the tree was rotten throwe No kindly sappe did comforte any spraie Bothe barke and stocke and bodie did decaie So that it seemde the soile infected was With malice moods that smells of mischeef greate Their golden lande was tournde to rustie Bras And eche thyng wrought as God had curst the seate The groūd thought scorne to bryng forth frute in tune The Uines did rotte the blade would beare no corne Like Winter foule became the Sommers Prime The pleasant plotts brought forth wilde brier thorn With Raine and storme the lande was vexed still The ire of God the people could not shunne Greate grewe the greef that came by headstrong will And all these plagues by proude conceite begonne That thought to rule perhapps past reasons lore Treate that who please my muse not framde therefore Of warrs and woe I meane my penne to straine ▪ In breef discourse for Wisedomes vieu alone I skippe ouer doubts I dare not be to plaine Least fire flie out from flinte and stricken stone Those broills abroche the realme ran all to ruen The heads waxte sicke the members were amis The notes were nought the song was out of tune And badde is best where suche rude Musick is Blood was so sought that Butcherie boare the swaie A man and beast were waied bothe a like The Shepe must dye the Wolfe would haue his praie The riche would rule the poore must passe the pike The house must burne that could not make defence The head must of that had more witte then needs The fullest baggs were searched for their pence The vains were sought that moste the humour feeds The good might starue the badde found all the grace The wise might walke abroade and tell the trees The faunyng fooles were moste prefarde in place The waspes would sucke the honie from the Bees And to be plaine abuse in all degrees Bred nought but warre and nourisht suche debate That all to torne did lye that noble state And when one race or noble house did rise With force of armes to make reuolte or stoer Tenne thousande flockt as thicke as starrs in skies About the streats before the Princes doore No woords might serue nor reason could preuaile The people waxte as wilde as chafed Deere Yea though thei heard their wiues bothe wepe waile Their children crie their frends make mournyng chere To bloodie fight in furie fell thei all And though on heaps dead coarses laie in vieu The people made accounte thereof but small For battaile did but malice still renue A greate mans death coste many small mens liues A small offence did make a greate adoo When men forget their children and their wiues And madlie faulls to hate their countrey too A little sparke will make a marueilous fire And then bothe Prince and Lawe is out of minde Good rule is drounde and children doo conspire Their fathers deaths and kinsmen out of kinde Doo turne and change as weather Cocke with winde O Fraunce who lookes vpon thy bloodie waies And notes but halfe the pageant thou hast plaied Will be therefore the wiser all their daies Or at the least will howrely bee afraied To plaie suche pranks as thou poore France hast doon Thou hadst a tyme and wretched race to run For others weale that can good war●yng take Thy neighbours haue had laisure to regarde The harms of thee and so a mirrour make Of thy greate doole and dulfull destinie harde Can greater plagues bee seen in any soile Then reuell rage and hauocke euery waie A ciuill warre with wicked waiste and spoile A deadlie botche that striks stoute harte by daie And kills by night the harmles in his bedde O ciuill warre thou hast a Hidras hedde A Uipers kinde a Serpentes nature throwe A Spiders shape a forme of vglie Tode A Deulishe face a shamelesse blotted browe A bloodie hande at home and eke abrode And if a man would painte a monster right Set out in shape but eiuill warre to sight Painte all the harms that cruell murther bryngs And sure that Snake will shewe ten thousande stings A man maie not in colours setforthe well A rude reuolt a wretched ciuill brawll He were as good assaie to painte out hell And seeke to shewe the sorts of torments all That sillie souls doo feele with damned spreetts Who sees reuolte in feeld or ciuill streets Will thinke he meetts madd doggs disgisde like men Or els wilde Wolues that liues in sauage woode It passeth witte and cunnyng arte of pen To blase out warrs began on mortall foode And namely broills that breeds in publike state The cause whereof bothe God and man doeth hate O France the flowre and gardaine of the earth The soile of wealthe and topp of triumphe all Where is become thy pastyme and thy mirthe Thy glorie greate that worldlie ioyes we call Hath wilde reuolt made tame thy