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	king_n	year_n	13,736	5	5.1327	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B03820	The careless gallant: or, A farewel to sorrow. Whether these lines do please, or give offence, or shall be damn'd as neither wit nor sence, the poet is, for that, in no suspence, for it is all one a hundred years hence. To an excellent, and delightful tune.		1674-1679? (1679)	Wing J1021; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.8[44]	1,294	1

The Careless Gallant Or A farewel to Sorrow Whether these Lines do please or give offence Or shall be damn'd as neither wit nor sence The Poet is for that in no suspence For it is all one a hundred years hence To an Excellent and delightful Tune LEt us sing and be merry dance joke and rejoyce With Claret and Sherry Theorbo and voice The changeable world to our joy is unjust All treasures uncertain Then down with your dust In frolicks dispose your pounds shillings and pence For we shall be nothing a hundred years hence We 'l sport and be free with Frank Betty and Dolly Have Lobsters and Oysters to cure melancholly Fish-dinners will make a man spring like a Flea Dame Venus loves Lady Was born of the Sea With her and with Bacchus we 'l tickle the sense For we shall be past it a hundred years hence Your beautiful bit who hath all eyes upon her That her honesty sells for a hogo of honour Whose lightness and brightness doth cast such a splender That none are thought fit But the Stars to attend her Though now she seems pleasant sweet to the sence Will be damnable mouldy a hundred years hence Your greatest Grand-Seignior who rants it in riot Not suffering his poor Christian neighbours live quiet Whose numberless army that to him belongs Consists of more Nations Than Babel hath tongues Though numerous as dust yet in spight of defence Shall all lie in ashes a hundred years hence Your Vsurer that in the hundred takes twenty Who wants in his wealth and pines in his plenty Lays up for a season which he shall ne'r see The year of one thousand Eight hundred and three Shall have chang'd all his Baggs his houses and Rents For a worm-eaten Coffin a hundred years hence The Second Part to the same Tune YOur Chancery-Lawyer who by conscience thrives In spinning a sute to the length of three lives A sute which the Clyent doth wear out in slavery whilst pleader makes conscience a cloak for his Knavery Can boast of his cunning but i' th present-Tence For Non est inventus a hundred years hence Then why should we turmoyl in cares and fears And turn our tranquillity to sighs and tears Let 's eat drink and play e're the worms do corrupt us For I say that Post mortem nulla voluptas Let 's deal with our Damsels that we may from thence Have broods to suceed us a hundred years hence I never could gain satisfaction upon Your dreams of a bliss when we 'r cold as as a stone The Sages call us Drunkards Gluttons wenchers But we find such Morsels upon their own Trenchers For Abigal Hannah and sister Prudence Will simper to nothing a hundred years hence The Plush-coated Quack that his fees to inlarge Kills people with Licence and at their own charge Who builds a vast structure of ill gotten wealth from the degrees of a Piss-pot and ruines of health Though treasures of life he pretends to despence Shall be turn'd into mummy a hundred years hence The Butterflye Courtier that Peagant of state The Mouse-trap of honour and May-game of fat● With all his ambitions intrigues and his tricks must dye like a Clown and then drop into Stix His plots against death are too slender a fence For he 'l be out of fashion a hundred years hence Yea the Poet himself that so loftily sings As he scorns any subjects but Hero's or Kings Must to the Capricio's of fortune submit and often be counted a fool for his ' wit Thus beauty wit wealth law learning and senc● All come to nothing a hundred years hence Printed for F. Coles T. Vere J. Wright and J. Clarke ●