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	life_n	soul_n	23,154	5	5.3621	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A12633	Mœoniæ. Or, Certaine excellent poems and spirituall hymnes: omitted in the last impression of Peters complaint being needefull thereunto to be annexed, as being both diuine and wittie. All composed by R.S.	Southwell, Robert, Saint, 1561?-1595.	1595 (1595)	STC 22955.5; ESTC S117673	10,446	38

tell me I must die And yet my life amend not I. My ancestors are turnd to clay And many of my mates are gone My yongers dayly drop away And can I thinke to scape alone No no I know that I must die And yet my life amend not I Not Salomon for all his wits Nor Sampson though he were so strong No king nor euer person yet Could scape but death laid him along Wherefore I know that I must die And yet my life amend not I. Though all the East did quake to heare Of Alexanders dreadfull name And all the West did likewise feare To heare of Iulius Cesars fame Yet both by death in dust now lie Who then can scape but he must die If none can scape deaths dreadfull dart If rich and poore his becke obey If strong if wise if all do smart Then I to scape shall haue no way Oh grant me grace O God that I My life may mend sith I must die A vale of teares AVale there is enwrapt with dreadful shades Which thicke of mourning pines shrouds from the sunne Where hanging clifts yeld short dumpish glades And snowie flouds with broken streames doe runne Where eie-roume is from rocke to cloudie skie From thence to dales which stormie ruines shroud Then to the crushed waters frothie frie Which tumbleth from the tops where snow is thow'd Where eares of other sound can haue no choice But various blustring of the stubburne winde In trees in caues in straits with diuers noise Which now doth hisse now howle now roare by kinde Where waters wrastle with encountering stones That breake their streames and turne them into foame The hollow clouds ful fraught with thundering groans With hideous thumps discharge their pregnant wombe And in the horror of this fearefull quier Consists the musicke of this dolefull place All pleasant birds their tunes from thence retire Where none but heauie notes haue any grace Resort there is of none but pilgrim wights That passe with trembling foot and panting heart With terrour cast in cold and shuddring frights And all the place to terrour framde by art Yet natures worke it is of arte vntoucht So strait indeede so vast vnto the eie With such disordred order strangely coucht And so with pleasing horror low and hie That who it viewes must needes remaine agast Much at the worke more at the makers might And muse how Nature such a plot could cast Where nothing seemed wrong yet nothing right A place for mated minds and onely bower Where euerie thing doth sooth a dumpish mood Earth lics forlorne the cloudie skie doth lower The wind here weepes her sighs her cries aloude The strugling floud betweene the marble grones Then roring beates vpon the craggie sides A little off amidst the pibble stones With bubling streames a purling noise it glides The pines thicke set hie growne and euer greene Stil cloathe the place with shade and mourning vaile Here gaping cliffes there mosse growne plaine is seene Here hope doth spring and there againe doth quaile Huge massie stones that hang by tickle stay Still threaten foule and seeme to hang in feare Some withered trees ashamde of their decay Be set with greene and forcde gray coats to weare Here christall springs crept out of secret vaine Strait finde some enuious hole that hides their graine Here seared tufts lament the wants of grace There thunder wracke giues terror to the place All pangs and heauie passions here may find A thousand motiues suitly to their griefes To feede the sorrowes of their troubled mind And chase away dame pleasures vaine reliefes To plaining thoughts this vaile a rest may bee To which from wordly toyes they may retire Where sorrow springs from water stone and tree Where euerie thing with mourners doth conspire Sit here my soule mourne teares afloate Here all thy sinfull foiles alone recount Of solemne tunes make thou the dolefulst note That to thy ditties dolor may amount When Eccho doth repeat thy painfull cries Thinke that the verie stones thy sinnes bewray And now accuse thee with their sad replies As heauen and earth shall in the latter day Let former faults be fuell of the fire For griefe the Limbecke of thy heart to still Thy pensiue thoughts and dumps of thy desire And vapoure teares vp to thy eyes at will Let teares to tunes and pains to plaints be prest And let this be the burthen to thy song Come deepe remorse possesse my sinfull brest Delights adue I harbourd you too long The prodigall childs soule wracke DIsankered srom a blisfull shore and lancht into the meane of cares Grown rich in vice in vertue poore from freedom faln in fatal snares I found my selfe on euerie side enwrapped in the waues of wo And tossed with a toile some tide could to no port for refuge go The wrastling wind with raging blasts still hold me in a cruel chace They breake my anchors saile and masts permitting no reposing place The boistrous seas with swelling flouds on every side did work their spight Heauen ouercast with stormie clouds denide the Planets guiding light The hellish furies lay in wait to winne my soule into their power To make me bite at euery bait wherein my bane I might deuoure Thus heauen and hel thus sea land thus storms aud tēpests did conspire With iust reuenge of scourging hand to witnes Gods deserued ire I plunged in this heauie plight found in my faults iust cause to feare My darkenesse taught to know my light the losse whereof enforced teares I felt my inward bleeding sores my festred wounds began to smart Stept far within deaths fatal doores the pangs wherof were nere my hart I cried truce I craued peace a league with death I would conclude But vaine it was to sue release subdue I must or be subdude Death deceit had pitcht their snares put their wonted proofes in vre To sinke me in dispairing cares or make me stoupe to pleasures lure They fought by their bewitching charmes so to enchant my erring sense That when they sought my greatest harmes I might neglect my best defence My dazled eies could take no view no heede of their receiuing shifts So often did they alter hew and practise new deuised drifts With sirens song they fed mine eares till luld a sleepe on errors lap I found their tunes turnd into teares and short delights to long mishap For I inticed to their lore and soothed with their idle toies Was trained to their prison doore the end of all such flying ioies Where chainde in sinne I lay in thrall next to the dungeon of dispaire Till mercie raisde me from my fall and grace my ruine did repaire Mans ciuill warre MY houering thoughts would flie to heauen and quiet nestle in the skie Faine would my ship in virtues shore without remoue at anchor lie But mounted thoughts are hailed down with heauie poise of mortal load And blustring stormes denie my ship in vertues hauen sure abode When inward eie to heauenly sights doth draw my longing hearts desire The world with lesses of delights would to her pearch my thoughts retire Fond fancie traines to pleasures lure though reason stiffely do repine Thogh wisedom woo me to the saint yet sense would win me to the shrine Where reason loathes there fancie loues and euer rules the captiue wil Foes senses and to vertues lore they draw the wit their wish to fill Neede craues consent of soule to sence yet diuers bents breed ciuil fray Hard hap where halues must disagree or trust of halues the hole betray O cruel fight where fighting frend with loue doth kil a fauouring foe Where peace with sense is warre with God and selfdelight the seed of wo. Dame pleasures drugges are steept in sin their sugred tast doth breed anoy O fickle sense beware her ginne sell not thy soule for brittle toy Seeke flowers of heauen SOare vp my soule vnto thy rest cast off this loathsome lode Long is the date of thy exile too long the strickt abode Graze not on worldly withered weede it fitteth not thy taste The flowers of euerlasting spring do grow for thy repaste Their leaues are staind in beauties die and blazed with their beames Their stalks inameld with delight and limbde with glorious gleames Life giuing iuice of liuing loue their sugred vaines doth fill And watred with euerlasting showers they nectared drops distill These flowers do spring from fertile soile though from vnmanurde field Most glittering gold in lieu of glebe these fragrant flowers do yeeld Whose soueraigne sent surpassing sense so rauisheth the minde That worldly weedes needes must he loath that can these flowers find FINIS

did eclipse their raines Yet through this cloud their passage they did finde And pierc'd these sages hearts by secret waies Which made them know the ruler of the skies By infant tongue and lookes of babish eies Heauen at her light earth blushes at her pride And of their pompe these peeres ashamed be Their crownes their robes their traines they set aside When Gods poore cottage clouts and crew they see All glorious things their glorie now despise Sith God Contempt doth more then glory praise Three gifts they bring three gifts they beare away For incense mirre and gold faith hope and loue And with their gifts the giuers hearts do stay Their mind from Christ no parting can remoue His humble state his stall his poore retinew They fancy more then all their rich reuenew The Presentation TO be redeemed the worlds Redeemer brought Two silly turtle doues for ransome paies O wares with empires worthy to be bought This casie rate doth sound not drowne thy praise For sith no price can to thy worth amount A doue yea loue due price thou doest account Old Simeon cheape penny worth and sweete Obteind when thee in armes he did imbrace His weeping eies thy smiling lookes did meet Thy loue his heart thy kisses blest his face O eies O hart meane sights and loues auoyde Base not your selues your best you haue enioyde O virgin pure thou dost those doues present As due to lawe not as an equall price To buy such ware thou wouldst thy selfe haue spent The world to reach his worth could not suffice If God were to be bought not worldly pelfe But thou wert fittest price next God himselfe The flight into Egypt ALas our day is forst to flie by night Light without light and sunne by silent shade O nature blush that suffrest such a wight That in thy sunne thy darke eclipse hast made Day to his eies light to his steps denie That hates the light which graceth euery eie Sunne being fled the starres do loose their light And shining beames in bloodie streames they drench A cruell storme of Herods mortall spight Their liues and lights with bloody showers do quench The tyrant to be sure of murdring one For feare of sparing him doth pardon none O blessed babes first flowers of christian spring Who though vntimely cropt faire garlandes frame With open throats and silent mouthes you sing His praise whom age permits you not to name Your tunes are teares your instruments are swords Your ditty death and blood in hew of wordes Christs returne out of Egypt VVHen death and hell their right in Herod claime Christ from exile returnes to natiue soile There with his life more deepely death to maime Then death did life by all the infantes spoile He shewed the parents that the babes did mone That all their liues were lesse then his alone But hearing Herods sonne to haue the crowne The impious offspring of the bloudy sire To Nazareth of heauen beloued towne Flowre to a flowre he fitly doth retire For he is a flower and in a flower he bred And from a thorne now to a flowre he fled And well deserud this flower his fruit to view Where hee inuested was in mortall weede Where first vnto a tender bud he grew In virgin branch vnstaind with mortall seede Young flower with flowers in flower well may he be Ripe fruit he must with thornes hang on a tree Christes bloody sweat FAt soile full spring sweete oliue grape of blisse That yeelds that streams that powers that dost distil Vntild vndrawne vnstampt vntoucht of presse Deare fruit cleare brookes faire oile sweete wine at will Thus Christ vnforst preuents in sheeding blood The whips the thornes the naile the speare and roode He Pelicans he Phenix fate doth proue Whom flames consume when streames enforce to die How burneth bloud how bleedeth burning loue Can one in flame and streame both bath and frie How would he ioine a Phenix fiery paines In fainting Pelicans still bleeding vaines Christs fleeping friends WHen Christ with care pangs of death opprest From frighted flesh a bloody sweate did raine And full of feare without repose or rest In agony did watch and pray in vaine Three sundrie times he his disciples findes With heauie eies but farre more heauie mindes With milde rebuke he warned them to wake Yet sleepe did still their drousie sences hold As when the sunne the brightest shew doth make In darkest shrouds the night birds them infolde His foes did watch to worke their cruell spight His drousie friends slept in his hardest night As Ionas sayled once from Ioppaes shoare A boystrous tempest in the aire did broile The waues did rage the thundring heauens did roare The stones the rockes the lightnings threatned spoile The shippe was billowes game and chaunces pray Yet carelesse Ionas mute and slumbring lay So now though Iudas like a blustring gust Do stirre the furious sea of Iewish ire Though storming troopes in quarrels most vniust Against the barke of all our blisse conspire Yet these disciples sleeping lie secure As though their wonted calmes did still endure Ionas once his heauie limmes to rest Did shrowd himselfe in iuy pleasant shade But lo while him a heauy sleepe opprest His shadowy bowre to withered stalke did fade A cankered worme did gnaw the root away And brought the glorious branches to decay O gracious plant O tree of heauenly spring The paragon for lease for fruit and flower How sweete a shadow did thy branches bring To shrowd these soules that chose thee for their bower But now while they with Ionas fall asleepe To spoile their plant an enuious worme doth creepe Awake you slumbring wights lift vp your eies Marke Iudas how to teare your roote he striues Alas the glory of your arbor dies Arise and guard the comfort of your liues No Ionas iuy no Zacheus tree Were to the world so great a losse as he The virgin Mary to Christ on the Crosse. WHat mist hath dimd that glorious face what seas of griefemy sun doth tosse The golden raies of heauenly grace lies now ecclipsed on the crosse Iesus my loue my sonne my God behold thy mother washt in teares Thy bloody wounds be made a rod to chasten these my latter yeares You cruel Iewes come worke your ire vpon this worthlesse flesh of mine And kindle not eternall fire by wounding him which is diuine Thou messenger that didst impart his first discent into my womb Come helpe me now to cleaue my heart that there I may my sonne intombs You Angels all that present were to shew his birth with harmony Why are you now not ready here to make a mourning symphony The cause I know you waile alone and shed your teares in secresie Lest I should moued be to mone by force of heauie company But waile my soule thy comfort aies my wofull wombe lament thy fruit My heart giueteares vnto my eies let sorrow string my heauy lute A holy Hymne PRaise O Sion praise thy Sauiour

Praise thy Captaine and thy Pastour With hymnes and solemne harmony What power affords performe indeede His works all praises farre exceede No praise can reach his dignity A speciall theame of praise is read A liuing and a life giuing bread Is on this day exhibited Within the supper of our Lord To twelue disciples at his bord As doubtlesse twas deliuered Let our praise be lou'd and free Full of ioy and decent glee With mindes and voices melody For now solemnize we that day Which doth with ioy to vs display The priuy vse of this mistery At this borde of our new ruler Of new Law new pascall order The ancient rite abolisheth Old decrees by new annild Shadowes are in trueth fulfilld Day former darkenes finisheth That at supper Christ performed To be done he straightly charged For his eternall memory Guided by his sacred orders Bread and wine vpon our altars To sauing host we sanctifie Christians are by faith assured That to flesh the bread is changed The wine to blood most precious That no wit nor sence conceiueth Firme and grounded faith belieueth In strange affects not curious Vnder kindes two in appearance Two in shew bnt one in substance Be things beyond comparison Flesh is meat blood drinke most heauenly Yet is Christ in each kinde wholy Most free from al diuision None that eateth him doth chew him None that takes him doth denie him Receiued he whole perseuereth Be there one or thousands housoled One as much as all receiued He by no eating perisheth Both the good and bad receiue him But effects are diuers in them True life or true destruction Life to the good death to the wicked Marke how both alike receiued With farre vnlike conclusion When the priest the hoast deuideth Know that each part abideth All that the whole hoast couered Forme of bread not Christ is broken Not of Christ but of his token Is state or stature altered Angels bread made Pilgrimes feeding Truely bread for childrens eating To dogs not to be offered Signd by Isacke on the alter By the Lambe and paschall supper And in the manna figured Iesu food and feeder of vs Here with mercie feede and friend vs Then grant in heauen felicitie Lord of all whom here thou feedest Fellow heires guests with thy dearest Make vs in heauenly company S. Peters afflicted minde IF that the sicke may grone Or Orphane mourne his losse If wounded wretch may rue his harmes Or caitife shew his crosse If heart consumde with care May vtter signes of paine Then may my brest be sorrowes home And tongue with cause complaine My maladie is sinne And langour of the minde My body but a lazars couch Wherein my soule is pinde The care of heauenly kinde Is death to my reliefe Forlorne and left like Orphan child With sighs I feede my griefe My wounds with mortall smart My dying soule torment And prisoner to mine owne mishaps My follies I repent My heart is but the haunt Where all dislikes do keepe And who can blame so lost a wretch Though teares of blood he weepe S. Peters remorse REmorse vpbraids my faults Selfe blaming conscience cries Sinne claimes the hoast of humbled thoughts And streames of weeping eies Let penance Lord preuaile Let sorrow sue release Let loue be vmpier in my cause And passe the doome of peace If doome go by desert My least desert is death That robs from soule immortall ioies From body mortall breath But in so high a God So base a wormes annoy Can adde no praise vnto thy power No blisse vnto thy ioy Well may I frie in flames Due fuell to hell fire But on a wretch to wreake thy wrath Can not be worth thine ire Yet sith so vile a woorme Hath wrought his greatest spight Of highest treason well thou maist In rigor him endite But mercy may relent And temper iustice rod For mercy doth as much belong As iustice to a God If former time or place More right to mercy winne Thou first wert author of my selfe The vmpier of my sinne Did mercie spin the thread To weaue in Iustice loome Wert thou a father to conclude With dreadfull Iudges doome It is a small reliefe To say I was thy child If as an ill deseruing foe From grace I am exilde I was I had I could All words importing want They are but dust of dead supplies Where needefull helpes are scant Once to haue beene in blisse That hardly can returne Doth but bewray from whence I fell And wherefore now I mourne All thoughts of passed hopes Encrease my present crosse Like ruines of decaied ioies They still vpbraide my losse O milde and mightie Lord Amend that is amisse My sinne my soare thy loue my salue Thy cure my comfort is Comfirme thy former deedes Reforme that is defilde I was I am I will remaine Thy charge thy choice thy childe Man to the wound in Christs side O Pleasant port O place of rest O royall rist O worthy wound Come harbour me a wearie guest That in the world no case haue found I lie lamenting at thy gate Yet dare I not aduenture in I beare with me a troublous mate And cumbred am with heape of sinne Discharge me of this heauie load That easier passage I may finde Within this bowre to make aboade And in this glorious tombe be shrin'd Here must I liue here must I die Here would I vtter all my griefe Heere would I all those paines discrie Which heere did meete for my releefe Here would I view the bloudy sore Which dint of spitefull speare did breed The bloody wounds laid there in store Would force a stony heart to bleede Heere is the spring of trickling teares The mirror of all mourning wights With dolefull tunes for dumpish cares And solemne shewes for sorrowed sights O happie soule that flies so hie As to attaine this sacred caue Lord send me wings that I may flie And in this harbour quiet haue Vpon the Image of death BEfore my face the picture hangs That daily should put me in mind Of those cold names and bitter pangs That shortly I am like to finde But yet alas full little I Do thinke hereon that I must die I often looke vpon a face Most vgly grisly bare and thinne I often view the hollow place Where eies and nose haue sometimes bin I see the bones acrosse that lie Yet little thinke that I must die I reade the Labell vnderneath That telleth me whereto I must I see the sentence eake that saith Remember man that thou art dust But yet alas but seldome I Do thinke indeede that I must die Continually at my beds head A hearse doth hang which doth me tel That I yer morning may be dead Though now I feele my selfe full well But now alas for all this I Haue little mind that I must die The gowne which I do vse to weare The knife wherewith I cut my meate And eke that old and ancient chaire Which is my onely vsuall seate All those do