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	think_v	9,849	5	4.3485	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A01909	Eglogs epytaphes, and sonettes. Newly written by Barnabe Googe: 1563. 15. Marche	Googe, Barnabe, 1540-1594.; Blundeston, Laurence.	1563 (1563)	STC 12048; ESTC S106441	40,386	170

best it now to lyue Contrarye to her wyll Thynkste thou thy lyfe for to retaine when she is not content Canste thou addicte thy selfe to lyue and she to murder bent Doste thou entende agayne to sewe for mercye at her handes As soone thou mayst go plow y e rocks and reape vpon the Sandes Draw nere O mighty Herd of beasts syth no man els is bye Your Herdman longe that hathe you kept Dametas nowe must dye Resolue your Brutisshe eies to teares and all togyther crye Bewayle the wofull ende of Loue Dametas nowe must dye My pleasaunt Songs nowe shall you here no more on Mountaines hye I leaue you all I must be gone Dametas nowe must dye To Titirus I you resyne in Pasture good to lye For Titirus shall kepe you thoughe Dametas nowe must dye O cursed Cause that hath me slayne My trothe alas to trye O Shephardes all be Wytnesses Dametas here doth dye Finis Eglogae secundoe Egloga tertia Menalcas Coridon A Pleasaunt wether Coridon and lytte to kepe the fyelde This moone hath brought ▪ hearst y u the birds what ioyful tunes they yeld Loe how the lustie lambes do course whom spring time heate doth pricke Beholde againe the aged Yewes with bouncinge leapes do kicke Amonst thē all what ayles thy rāme to halte so muche behynde Some sore mischaūce hath him be ●aln or els some griefe of minde For wonte he was of stomacke stoute and courage hye to be And looked proude amongst y e flocke and none so stoute as he A great mishap and griefe of mynde is him be falne of late Which causeth him against his wyll to lose his olde estate A lustie flocke hath Titirus that him Dametas gaue Dametas he that Martir died whose soule the heaues haue And in this flocke full many Yewes of pleasaunte forme do goe with thē a mighty Rāme doth ronne that workes all Woers woe My Rāme whē he the pleasaūt dames had vewed rounde aboute Chose groūde of battayle with his foe and thought to fyght it oute But all to weake alas he was althoughe his harte was good For when his enemye him espied he rāne with cruell moode And with his croked weapon smote him sore vpon the syde A blowe of force that stayde not there but to the legges dyd glyde And almoste laamd the woer quyte suche happes in loue there be This is the cause of all his griefe and waylynge that you se Well Coridon let hym go halte and let vs both go lye In yonder busshe of Iuniper the Beasts shall fede hereby A pleasaunt place here is to talke good Coridon begyn And let vs knowe the Townes estate that thou remaynest in The Townes estate Menalcas oh thou makste my harte to grone For Vice hath euery place possesse and Vertue thence is flowne Pryde beares her selfe as Goddesse chiefe and boastes aboue y e Skye And Lowlynes an abiecte lyes with Gentlenes her bye Wyt is not ioynde with Symplenes as she was wont to be But sekes the ayde of Arrogance and craftye Polycie Nobylitie begyns to fade and Carters vp do sprynge Then whiche no greater plague can hap nor more pernicious thynge Menalcas I haue knowen my selfe within this thyrtye yeare Of Lordes and Auncient Gentelmen a hundreth dwellynge theare Of whom we Shephardes had reliefe suche Gentlenes of mynde Was placed in theyr noble Hartes as none is nowe to fynde But Hawtynes and proude Disdayne hath nowe the chiefe Estate For syr Iohn Straw syr Iohn Cur wyll not degenerate And yet they dare account thē selues to be of Noble bludde But Fisshe bred vp in durtye Pooles wyll euer stynke of mudde I promysse the Menalcas here I wolde not them enuye Yf any spot of Gentlenes in them I myght espye For yf theyr Natures gentell be thoughe byrth be neuer so base Of Gentelmen for mete it is they ought haue name and place But whē by byrth they base are bred and churlisshe harte retaine Though place of gentlem●n thei haue yet churles they do remayne A prouerbe olde hath ofte ben hard● and nowe full true is tryed An Ape wyll euer be an Ape thoughe purple garments hyde For seldom wyll the mastye course the Hare or els the Deare But styll accordynge to his kynde wyll holde the hogge by theare Vnfitte are dunghill knights to serue the towne with Speare in fielde Nor strange it semes a sudain Chop to leape from whyp to shielde The chiefest man in all our towne that beares the greatest swaye Is Coridon no kynne to me a Neteherd thother daye This Coridon come from the Carte In honour chiefe doth sytte And gouernes vs because he hath a Crabbed Clownish wytte Nowe se the Churlysh Crueltye that in hys harte remayns The selye Sheape y ● Shephards good haue fosterd vp wyth Paynes And browght awaye from Stynkyng dales on pleasant Hylles to feade O Cruell Clownish Coridon O cursed Carlish Seade The simple Shepe constrayned he theyr Pasture swete to leaue And to theyr old corrupted Grasse enforceth them to cleaue Such Shepe as wold not them obaye but in theyr Pasture byde with cruell flames they did cōsume and vex on euery syde And w t the shepe y ● Shephardes good O hatefull Hounds of Hell They did torment and dryue thē out in Places farre to dwell There dyed Daphnes for his Shepe the chiefest of them all And fayre Alexis flamde in Fyre who neuer perysshe shall O Shephards wayle for Daphnes deth Alexis hap lament And curs the force of cruell hartes that them to death haue sent I synce I sawe suche synfull syghts dyd neuer lyke the Towne But thought it best to take my sheepe and dwell vpon the downe Wheras I lyue a pleasaunt lyfe and free from cruell handes I wolde not leaue the plesaunt fyelde for all the Townysh Landes For syth that Pryde is placed thus and Vice set vp so hye And Crueltie doth rage so sore and men lyue all awrye Thynkste y u y ● God wil long forbere his scourge and plague to sende To suche as hym do styll despyse and neuer seke to mende Let them be sure he wyll reuenge when they thynke leaste vpon But looke a stormy showre doth ryse whiche wyll fall heare anone Menalcas best we nowe departe my Cottage vs shall keepe For there is rowme for the and me and eke for all our sheepe Som Chestnuts haue I there in store with Cheese and pleasaunt whaye God sends me Vittayles for my nede and I synge Care awaye ¶ Finis Egloge tertie Egloga quarta Melibeus Palemon O God that guyds y e golden Globe wher shinyng shapes do dwel O thou y e throwest the thūder thumps from Heauens hye to Hell what wonders workes thy worthynes what meruayles doste thou frame What secrete syghts be Subiect sene vnto thy holy name A symple Shepharde slayne of late by foolysshe force of Loue That had not Grace such fancies fond and Flames for to remoue Appeared late before myne

al theyr harms blud that happens them in lyfe Theyr Cōscience prickt theyr barren theyr toyle theyr grief theyr stryfe With mischiefes heaped many a one which they do neuer trye That Lou● Feare the myghty God that rules and raynes on hye To long it we are to make discourse and Phebus downe descends And in the Clowdes his beames doth hyde which tempest sure portends Looke how the beastes begin to sling and cast theyr heades on hye The Hear on shew mountes aboue the Clouds y e Crowes ech wher do cry All this showes rayn tyme byds vs go com Coridon awaye Take vp thy Staffe fetch ī thy beasts let vs go whyle we maye Cornix agreed go thou before you cursed Bull of myne I must go dryue he neuer bydes among my Fathers Kyne Finis Egluge octaue ¶ An Epytaphe of the Lorde Sheffeldes death WHen Brutysh broyle and rage of war in Clownysh harts began When Tigres stoute in Tāners bonde vnmusled all they ran The Noble Sheffeyld Lord by byrth and of a courage good By clubbish hāds of crabbed Clowns there spent his Noble blud His noble byrth auayled not his honor all was vayne Amyd the prease of Mast ye Curres the valyant Lorde was slayue And after suche a sorte O ruth that who can teares suppresse To thynke y e Dunghyll Dogs shuld dawnt the Floure of worthynes Whyle as the rauenyng Wolues he prayed his gylteles lyfe to saue A bluddy Butcher byg and blunt a vyle vnweldy knaue With beastly blow of boysterous byll at hym O Lorde let dryue And cleste his head and sayd therwith shalt thou be lefte alyue O Lorde that I had present ben and Hectors force withall Before that from his Carlysh hands the cruell Byll dyd fall Then shulde that peasaunt vyle haue felt the clap vpon his Crowne That shuld haue dazed his dogged hart from dryuyng Lordes adowne Then shuld my hands haue saued thy lyfe good Lord whō deare I loued Then shuld my hart in doutfull case full well to the ben proued But all in vayne thy death I wayle thy Corps in earth doth lye Thy kyng and Countrey for to serue thou dydste not feare to dye Farewel good Lord thy deth bewayle all suche as well the knewe And euerye man laments thy case and Googe thy death doth rewe ¶ An Epytaphe of M. Shelley slayne at Musselbroughe VVan Mars had moued mortall hate and forced sumysh heate And hye Bellona had decreed to syt with Sworde in Seate The Scottes vntrue with fyghtynge hande theyr promys to denye Assembled fast England thought the trothe with them to trye Chose Musclebroughe theyr fyghtynge place amyd those barrayne fyelds Theyr breche of fayth there not to try with trothe but trotheles Shyeldes In battayle braue and Armye strong Encamped soore they laye Ten Scottes to one a dredeful thyng a dolfull fyghtyng daye That Englysh men were all agaste with quakyng staues in hande To se theyr enemyes lye so neare and death with them to stande No other remedye there was but fyght it out or flye And who shuld fyrst the Onset gyue was sure therin to dye Thus al dismayde and wrapt in feare with doutfull mynde they stande If best it be with flyght of foote to stryue or fyght of hande Tyll at the length a Captayn stoute with hawtye mynde gan speake O Towards all and maydly men of Courage faynt and weake Vnworthye com of Brutus race is this your manhode gon And is there none you Dastardes all that dare them set vpon Then Shelley all inflamed with heate with heate of valyaunt mynde No Towardes we nor maydly men ne yet of Dastards kynde I wold you wyste dyd euer com but dare be bolde to trye Our manhode heare thoughe nought appeare but deth to all mens eye And with these wordes O noble hart no longer there he stayde But forth before them all he sprang as one no whyt dismayed With charged staffe on fomyng horse his Spurres with heeles he strykes And forewarde ronnes with swyftye race among the mortall Pykes And in this race with famous ende to do his Countrey good Gaue Onset fyrst vpon his Foes and lost his vitall blud ¶ Finis ¶ An Epytaphe of Maister Thomas Phayre THe hawtye verse y e Maro wrote made Rome to wonder mu●he And meruayle none for why the Style and waightynes was suche That all men iudged Parnassus Mownt had clefte her selfe in twayne And brought forth one that seemd to drop from out Minerua●s brayne But wonder more maye Bryttayne great wher Phayre dyd florysh late And barreyne tong with swete accord reduced to suche estate That Virgils verse hath greater grace in forrayne foote obtaynde Than in his own who whilst he lyued eche other Poets stayned· The Noble H. Hawarde once that raught eternall fame With mighty Style did bryng a pece of Virgils worke in frame And Grimaold gaue the lyke attempt and D●uglas wan the Ball whose famouse wyt in Scottysh ryme had made an ende of all But all these same dyd Phayre excell I dare presume to wryte As muche as doth Appoll●es Beames the dymmest Starre in lyght The enuyous fates O pytie great had great disdayne to se That vs amongst there shuld remayn so fyne a wyt as he And in the mydst of all his toyle dyd force hym hence to wende And leaue a Worke vnperfyt so that neuer man shall ende ¶ An Epytaphe of the Death of Nicolas Grimaold BEholde this fletyng world how al things fade Howe euery thyng doth passe and we are awaye Eche state of lyfe by comon course and trade Abydes no tyme but hath a passyng daye For looke as lyfe that pleasaūt Dame hath brought Tht pelasaunt yeares and dayes of lustynes So Death our Foe consumeth all to nought Enuyeng thefe with Darte doth vs oppresse And that whiche is the greatest gryfe of all The gredye Grype doth no estate respect But wher he comes he makes them down to fall Ne stayes he at the hie sharpe wytted sect For yf that wytt or worthy Eloquens Or learnyng deape coulde moue hym to forbeare O Grima●ld then thou hadste not yet gon hence But heare hadest sene full many an aged yeare Ne had the Muses loste so fyne a Floure Nor had Minerua wept to leaue the so If wysdome myght haue fled the fatall howre Thou hadste not yet ben suffred for to go A thousande doltysh Geese we myght haue sparde A thousande wytles heads death might haue found And taken them for whom no man had carde And layde them lowe in deepe obliuious grounde But Fortune fauours Fooles as old men saye And le ts them lyue and take the wyse awaye ¶ Finis ¶ To Mayster Alexander Nowell THe Muses ioye and well they may to se So well theyr laboure com to good successe That they sustayned long agoe in the Minerua smyles Phebus can do no lesse But ouer all they chyefly do reioyse That leauyng thyngs which are but fond and vayne Thou dyddest chuse O good