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	hour_n	life_n	4,496	5	4.6534	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A12045	Venus and Adonis	Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616.	1593 (1593)	STC 22354; ESTC S102412	19,633	54

other foure VVould they not wish the feast might euer last And bid suspition double locke the dore Lest iealousie that sower vnwelcome guest Should by his stealing in disturbe the feast Once more the rubi-colourd portall opend VVhich to his speech did honie passage yeeld Like a red morne that euer yet betokend VVracke to the sea-man tempest to the field Sorrow to shepherds wo vnto the birds Gusts and foule flawes to heardmen to herds This ill presage aduisedly she marketh Euen as the wind is husht before it raineth Or as the wolfe doth grin before he barketh Or as the berrie breakes before it staineth Or like the deadly bullet of a gun His meaning strucke her ere his words begun And at his looke she flatly falleth downe For lookes kill loue and loue by lookes reuiueth A smile recures the wounding of a frowne But blessed bankrout that by loue so thriueth The sillie boy beleeuing she is dead Claps her pale cheeke till clapping makes it red And all amaz'd brake off his late intent For sharply he did thinke to reprehend her VVhich cunning loue did wittily preuent Faire-fall the wit that can so well defend her For on the grasse she lyes as she were slaine Till his breath breatheth life in her againe He wrings her nose he strikes her on the cheekes He bends her fingers holds her pulses hard He chafes her lips a thousand wayes he seekes To mend the hurt that his vnkindnesse mard He kisses her and she by her good will VVill neuer rise so he will kisse her still The night of sorrow now is turnd to day Her two blew windowes faintly she vpheaueth Like the faire sunne when in his fresh array He cheeres the morne and all the earth releeueth And as the bright sunne glorifies the skie So is her face illumind with her eye VVhose beames vpon his hairelesse face are fixt As if from thence they borrowed all their shine VVere neuer foure such lamps together mixt Had not his clouded with his browes repine But hers which through the cristal tears gaue light Shone like the Moone in water seene by night O where am I quoth she in earth or heauen Or in the Ocean drencht or in the fire VVhat houre is this or morne or wearie euen Do I delight to die or life desire But how I liu'd and life was deaths annoy But now I dy'de and death was liuely ioy O thou didst kill me kill me once againe Thy eyes shr●wd tutor that hard heart of thine Hath taught them scornfull tricks such disdaine That they haue murdred this poore heart of mine And these mine eyes true leaders to their queene But for thy piteous lips no more had seene Long may they kisse ech other for this cure Oh neuer let their crimson liueries weare And as they last their verdour still endure To driue infection from the dangerous yeare That the star-gazers hauing writ on death May say the plague is banisht by thy breath Pure lips sweet seales in my soft lips imprinted VVhat bargaines may I make still to be sealing To sell my selfe I can be well contented So thou wilt buy and pay and vse good dealing VVhich purchase if thou make for feare of slips Set thy seale manuell on my wax-red lips A thousand kisses buyes my heart from me And pay them at thy leisure one by one VVhat is ten hundred touches vnto thee Are they not quickly told and quickly gone Say for non paimēt that the debt should double Is twentie hundred kisses such a trouble Faire Queene quoth he if anie loue you owe me Measure my strangenesse with my vnripe yeares Before I know my selfe seeke not to know me No fisher but the vngrowne frie forbeares The mellow plum doth fall the greene sticks fast Or being early pluckt is sower to tast Looke the worlds comforter with wearie gate His dayes hot taske hath ended in the west The owle nights herald shreeks t is verie late The sheepe are gone to fold birds to their nest And cole-black clouds that shadow heauens light Do summon vs to part and bid good night Now let me say goodnight and so say you If you will say so you shall haue a kis Goodnight quoth she and ere he sayes adue The honie fee of parting tendred is Her armes do lend his necke a sweet imbrace Incorporate then they seeme face growes to face Till breathlesse he disioynd and backward drew The heauenly moisture that sweet corall mouth VVhose precious tast her thirstie-lips well knew VVhereon they surfet yet complaine on drouth He with her plentie pr●st she faint with dearth Their lips together glewed fall to the earth Now quicke desire hath caught the yeelding pray And gluttonlike she feeds yet neuer filleth Her lips are conquerers his lips obay Paying what ransome the insulter willeth VVhose vultur thought doth pitch the price so hie That she will draw his lips rich treasure drie And hauing felt the sweetnesse of the spoile VVith blind fold furie she begins to forrage Her face doth reeke smoke her blood doth boile And carelesse lust stirs vp a desperat courage Planting obliuion beating reason backe Forgetting shames pure blush honors wracke Hot faint and wearie with her hard imbracing Like a wild bird being tam'd with too much hādling Or as the fleet-foot Roe that 's tyr'd with chasing Or like the froward infant stild with dandling He now obayes and now no more resisteth VVhile she takes all she can not all she listeth VVhat waxe so frozen but dissolues with tempring And yeelds at last to euerie light impression Things out of hope are compast oft with ventring Chiefly in loue whose leaue exceeds commission Affection faints not like a pale-fac'd coward But thē woes best whē most his choice is froward VVhen he did frowne ô had she then gaue ouer Such nectar from his lips she had not suckt Foule wordes and frownes must not repell a louer VVhat though the rose haue prickles yet t is pluckt VVere beautie vnder twentie locks kept fast Yet loue breaks through picks them all at last For pittie now she can no more detaine him The poore foole praies her that he may depart She is resolu'd no longer to restraine him Bids him farewell and looke well to her hart The which by Cupids bow she doth protest He carries thence incaged in his brest Sweet boy she saies this night I le wast in sorrow For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch Tell me loues maister shall we meete to morrow Say shall we shall we wilt thou make the match He tell 's her no to morrow he intends To hunt the boare with certaine of his frends The boare quoth she whereat a suddain pale Like lawne being spred vpon the blushing rose Vsurpes her cheeke she trembles at his tale And on his neck her yoaking armes she throwes She sincketh downe still hanging by his necke He on her belly fall's she on her backe Now is she in the verie lists of loue

the boare for murther A thousand spleenes beare her a thousand wayes She treads the path that she vntreads againe Her more then hast is mated with delayes Like the proceedings of a drunken braine Full of respects yet naught at all respecting In hand with all things naught at all effecting Here kenneld in a brake she finds a hound And askes the wearie caitiffe for his maister And there another licking of his wound Gainst venimd sores the onely soueraigne plaister And here she meets another sadly skowling To whom she speaks he replies with howling VVhen he hath ceast his ill resounding noise Another flapmouthd mourner blacke and grim Against the welkin volies out his voyce Another and another answer him Clapping their proud tailes to the ground below Shaking their scratcht-eares bleeding as they go Looke how the worlds poore people are amazed At apparitions signes and prodigies VVhereon with feareful eyes they long haue gazed Infusing them with dreadfull prophecies So she at these sad signes drawes vp her breath And sighing it againe exclaimes on death Hard fauourd tyrant ougly meagre leane Hatefull diuorce of loue thus chides she death Grim-grinning ghost earths-worme what dost thou meane To stifle beautie and to steale his breath VVho when he liu'd his breath and beautie set Glosse on the rose smell to the violet If he be dead ô no it cannot be Seeing his beautie thou shouldst strike at it Oh yes it may thou hast no eyes to see But hatefully at randon doest thou hit Thy marke is feeble age but thy false dart Mistakes that aime and cleaues an infants hart Hadst thou but bid beware then he had spoke And hearing him thy power had lost his power The destinies will curse thee for this stroke They bid thee crop a weed thou pluckst a flower Loues golden arrow at him should haue fled And not deaths ebon dart to strike him dead Dost thou drink tears that thou prouok'st such weeping VVhat may a heauie grone aduantage thee VVhy hast thou cast into eternall sleeping Those eyes that taught all other eyes to see Now nature cares not for thy mortall vigour Since her best worke is ruin'd with thy rigour Here ouercome as one full of dispaire She vaild her eye-lids who like sluces stopt The christall tide that from her two cheeks faire In the sweet channell of her bosome dropt But through the floud gates breaks the siluer rain And with his strong course opens them againe O how her eyes and teares did lend and borrow Her eye seene in the teares teares in her eye Both christals where they viewd ech others sorrow Sorrow that friendly sighs sought still to drye But like a stormie day now wind now raine Sighs drie her cheeks tears make thē wet againe Variable passions throng her constant wo As striuing who should best become her griefe All entertaind ech passion labours so That euerie present sorrow seemeth chiefe But none is best then ioyne they all together Like many clouds consulting for foule weather By this farre off she heares some huntsman hallow A nourses song nere pleasd her babe so well The dyre imagination she did follow This sound of hope doth labour to expell For now reuiuing ioy bids her reioyce And flatters her it is Adonis voyce VVhereat her teares began to turne their tide Being prisond in her eye like pearles in glasse Yet sometimes fals an orient drop beside VVhich her cheeke melts as scorning it should passe To wash the foule face of the sluttish ground VVho is but dronken when she seemeth drownd O hard beleeuing loue how strange it seemes Not to beleeue and yet too credulous Thy weale and wo are both of them extreames Despaire and hope makes thee ridiculous The one doth flatter thee in thoughts vnlikely In likely thoughts the other kils thee quickly Now she vnweaues the web that she hath wrought Adonis liues and death is not to blame It was not she that cald him all to nought Now she ads honours to his hatefull name She clepes him king of graues graue for kings Imperious supreme of all mortall things No no quoth she sweet death I did but iest Yet pardon me I felt a kind of feare VVhen as I met the boare that bloodie beast VVhich knowes no pitie but is still seuere Then gentle shadow truth I must confesse I rayld on thee fearing my loues decesse T is not my fault the Bore prouok't my tong Be wreak't on him inuisible commaunder T' is he foule creature that hath done thee wrong I did but act he 's author of thy slaunder Greefe hath two tongues and neuer woman yet Could rule them both without ten womens wit Thus hoping that Adonis is aliue Her rash suspect she doth extenuate And that his beautie may the better thriue VVith death she humbly doth insinuate Tels him of trophies statues tombes and stories His victories his triumphs and his glories O loue quote she how much a foole was I To be of such a weake and sillie mind To waile his death who liues and must not die Till mutuall ouerthrow of mortall kind For he being dead with him is beautie slaine And beautie dead blacke Chaos comes againe Fy fy fond loue thou art as full of feare As one with treasure laden hem'd with theeues Trifles vnwitnessed with eye or eare Thy coward heart with false bethinking greeues Euen at this word she heares a merry horne VVhere at she leaps that was but late forlorne As Faulcons to the lure away she flies The grasse stoops not she treads on it so light And in her hast vnfortunately spies The foule boares conquest on her faire delight VVhich seene her eyes are murdred with the view Like stars asham'd of day themselues withdrew Or as the snaile whose tender hornes being hit Shrinks backward in his shellie caue with paine And there all smoothred vp in shade doth sit Long after fearing to creepe forth againe So at his bloodie view her eyes are fled Into the deep-darke cabbins of her head VVhere they resigne their office and their light To the disposing of her troubled braine VVho bids them still consort with ougly night And neuer wound the heart with lookes againe VVho like a king perplexed in his throne By their suggestion giues a deadly grone VVhereat ech tributarie subiect quakes As when the wind imprisond in the ground Struggling for passage earths foundation shakes which with cold terror doth mens minds confound This mutinie ech part doth so surprise That frō their dark beds once more leap her eies And being opend threw vnwilling light Vpon the wide wound that the boare had trencht In his soft flanke whose wonted lillie white VVith purple tears that his wound wept had drēcht No floure was nigh no grasse hearb leaf or weed But stole his blood and seemd with him to bleed This solemne sympathie poore Venus noteth Ouer one shoulder doth she hang her head Dumblie she passions frantikely she doteth She thinkes he could not die he is