Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	die_v	father_n	son_n	10,076	5	5.1245	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A13471	A most horrible, terrible, tollerable, termagant satyre most fresh and newly made, and prest in print, and if it bee not lik'd, the Divells in't.	Taylor, John, 1580-1653.	1639 (1639)	STC 23774.5; ESTC S111394	13,521	36

knowes no God but Gold And pale-fac'd Silver is his Goddesse pure To gaine whom he all slavery will endure Doe any villany with hand or Braine Provided that the end of it be gaine Live like a Rascall beggerly and bare Lye downe in sorrow and rise up in care Rake and racke Tenants to the very Bones Respecting neither Teares or sighes or m●…anes And keepe 〈◊〉 House as Hunger-starv'd as Hell ●…ith whom the Mice and Rats disdaine to dwell ●…hose Christmas Dinner in a Pipkin drest ●…e counts a costly and Voluptuous Feast ●…t let him be invited once abroad ●…he tiranizing Wolfe will lay on load 〈◊〉 if he never in his life did eate ●…r that he never after should see meat ●…us often his ung●…ily Guts are cram'd ●…ot at his owne charge he will first be dammn'd ●…hus Begger'd in his m●…d insatiate ●…e lookes on ●…idas State forgets his Fate ●…e will not weare the Asses Eares in vaine ●…e once perhaps may weare a golden Chaine ●…r if not so he●…le serape what wealth he can ●…o make his Lack-wit Sonne a Gentleman ●…or whom more Mad than any man of Goatham ●…ee'le dive to Tagus Sands or Hels vast bottom ●…ll that he doth possesse he counts it none ●…is Neighbours State he daily dotes upon ●…midst his Masse of Riches hee 's not rich ●…is Achans Wedge that doth his soule bewitch ●…hus like a Fiend of Hell he neither cares For Orphans iniuries or Widdowes teares His eares are deafned to their lamentations His Coffers fill'd with Coyne and execrations Himselfe growes old and Gouty Rhumaticke Most loathsome Coughing Wayward Chollerick Noysome to all and stinkes above the ground Despis'd and slighted like a mangy Hound His Wife his Children Kin and Family All looke upon him most disdainefully ratt He coughs spits spawles and in the throat do●… And death and him are in a mortall Battle His people pitty him and altogether They wish him dead gone they care not whith●… He would say somewhat but he cannot speake He fumbles with the Sheets his Eye-strings brea●… Within his mouth he mumbles champs chaw●… These 12. next following lines shall shew the ca●… A Mole 's a Mole whose food is onely Mold 〈◊〉 And best of mold is but refined gold God Mammon is of such high Eminence It makes man love Dame Tellus Excrements 'T is vices glory Vertues Laughing stocke The Misers honour and true Bounties mocke And he that lives a slave and dyes a Knave Is most unworthy of a Christian Grave He hides his wealth and at his dying day He in his Dying chopps doth hide the Key And in those hidings he is quite bereaven Of Keyes and Lockes and entrance into Heaven He dyes and stinkes and every one is glad Although for fashion sake some must seeme sad He must be buried and a Banquet spent Which if hee knew it would his mind torment ●…e in his life ne're kept a Feastivall ●…nd grieves to have one at his Funerall ●…or ought I know his Son the head hangs down ●…A merry living for a mourning Gowne ●…hen in the Grave the fragile Corps are put ●…here till the Refurrection closely shut ●…nd on his Monumentall stone or Tombe ●…is good Deedes are Insculpt in little roome Epi●…ph ●…ere lyes a wight interr'd beneath this Stone ●…ho w●…s of Age neere fourescore yeares and one●… ●…e with all hidden vertues was possest And kept them for he few or none exprest ●…n all the time which he did here survive His holy care was to live long and thrive At last Death strucke him downe and laid him flat He dy'd and gave ●…he poore no man knowes what ●…he Funerall teares are quickly dry'd and done And now behold his long Eclipsed Son From th'obscure Clouds of basenesse rushing forth To shew his Father left him something worth He lets those Angels fly to sight externall His Dad had long kept darke like Fiends infernall He roares and Revells drabs drinks and Dices Weares and sees fashions most strange devices Marries at last into a Stocke of State Maintaines her as befits a Ladies Rate And more because her joyes shall full be Crown He buyes a Knight-hood of five hundred pound Her Ladiship will quickely have a care To be as proud as other Ladies are For though of wealth they have the Divell and 〈◊〉 Her pride shall make their Charity so small That she will make her Knight to scrape and gathe●… And keepe a base House like the slave his Father That e're a yeare or two be gone and past A man may sooner breake his Necke then 's fast And as the Ocean's bounds are largely bounded So Avarice is measurelesse unsounded The Sea hath many branches that doe keepe Their Tributary course unto the Deepe As fountaines springs brooks make mighty River●… Those Rivers all into the Sea delivers All these disbursments yet for all the store Th' insatiate Ocean hath no jot the more So Avarice though it be still supply'd With aydes or helpes like a perpetuall Tyde It swallowes all and yet it 's Dropsie thirst Is as unquenchable as 't was at first And now most pertinent I will expresse Th' attendance that doe waite on Covetousnesse Mistake me not 't is not my ayme or drift T'enveigh 'gainst honest gaine or Lawfull thrift Inhumane Lucre Spawne of Avarice Which wretched men esteeme at so high price ●…at they above all vertues seeke and chuse it ●…d will lose Heaven it selfe before they 'le lose it ●…ucre is cruell in an Anagram Which doth expresse the Nature of the same 〈◊〉 there be any thing more cruell then ●…or greedy Lucre men should Murder men Wolves in their Kind amongst themselves agree ●…or Lucre men each others Bane will bee ●…here are a swarme of old Gehezies Tribe ●…hat for the love of Lucre love a Bribe ●…wish that they and their posterity ●…light likewise have Gehezies Leprosie ●…ites stoope to Carrion Beasts to grasse Herbage ●…o will these Mungrells doe to golden Garbage A Bribe may spin a Suite in Law so long That he whose cause was right may have the wrong A Bribe may have that force and powerfulnesse To make the greater Theeves hang up the lesse A Bribe the Scales of Justice oft hath sway'd And made a Whore passe currant for a Maid My Satyre might an endlesse Journey run To search what villany Bribes hath not done What mischiefe still it doth and more would doe But that the eye of Justice lookes thereto Yet many times and oft I heare it sed That Justice long agoe to Heaven is fled And that by her our faults cannot be seene So many Clouds are interpos'd betweene But I would have all vaine surmisers know True Justice sees and notes what 's done below No Bribe that Court of Conscience tollerates Nor no Bribe-taker enters in those Gates There comes no Lawyer thither that playes booty Th'oppressors soule 's kept out all smutch'd sooty The fear'd the flaw'd corrupt gal'd conscience Are all eternally