Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	earl_n	henry_n	king_n	9,113	5	4.4204	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A03455	Hollandi posthuma A funerall elegie of King Iames: With a congratulatory salve to King Charles. An elegie of the magnanimous Henry Earle of Oxford. A description of the late great, fearefull and prodigious plague: and divers other patheticall poemes, elegies, and other lines, on divers subiectes. The post-humes of Abraham Holland, sometimes of Trinity-Colledge in Cambridge. The authors epitaph, made by himselfe.	Holland, Abraham, d. 1626.	1626 (1626)	STC 13579; ESTC S114142	46,929	184

did preuaile and breathe vpon them last I doe confesse the gaine of such a King Wee now enjoy may well some solace bring For our dead IAMES Yet as wee often see In a religious Groue some aged Tree As a long-liued Oke or bald-head Elme Which not so many Stormes could ouer-whelme So many Keene and surly Winters rage But there it stands respected for the age Although the armes and seared bough's doe fade And that it with the trunke doth make a shade Rather than leaues yet vnderneath the Faunes And Syluan Gods from farre-remooued Launes Shelter themselues and when it fall's the sweet And gentle Nymphs and horn-hoof'd Satyres meet To waile their loued Shed which oft did tame The rage of Iuly and the Dog-starres flame Could we suppose another Sun would rise And make his Zodiack from the Southerne skies And set i' th' North leauing the East as chill As th'Orcades yet we should thinke on still Our ancient freind the former Sun whose power So many a Spring so many a joyfull houre Produc'd before ô it is hard to say When Customarie vertue 's tan'e away How great the griefe is though perhaps the blisse That doth ensue to th' other equall is There is an old wiues Prouerbe that the Spring May make an Ague Physicke for a King And God this Medicine did to him apply To cure him of diseas'd mortalitie And settle him Eternall where nor age Doth follow Time as in this Pilgrimage Of our sad life nor sicknesse paine or feare Or Decrement of beautie doth appeare But health eternall and felicities Without impaire and Life that neuer dies What man hereafter that partaketh sense But much more reason will wish residence In this darke vale of life where euery houre Is spent or lost or subject to the power Of dominiering Sinne especially When thus good Kings our Gods Tutelar die Alas while wee in this life trauaile fare Wee are but wretches hovering in the aire With waxen Plumes where feare still leads the trace And too much heaven brings vs to earth apace To bring vs vnto heauen we Comers are Whose sodaine lustre and prodigious haire Affrights the world with wonderment if we Placed too high or too inferiour bee Ah! who would trust on the deceiuing state O● slipperie Crownes held at as deere a rate As often purchas'd and againe resign'd All-wayes with cares and anguish of the minde This great good wise and learned Monarch whom The world affirm'd the Light of Christendome The Northerne Starre and Wonder of his time Who was the moment of this Westerne clime And held it in just poize who did devise But now the Embryo's of Policies Which Fate is still a teeming this good King Alas is come vnto his Evening And after soules and bodyes last divorce Lies in the Graue a cold vnlived Corse Good Soule sleepe sweet and quiet and doe Thou That doest reviue our King smoothe vp that brow That giues thy people life doe Thou appease Thy griefe and the contagion will cease Of too much care But if Thou still doest keepe Sorrow I 'le sweare hee 's dead that does not weepe Almightie God assist Thee and the Windes Be Champions for CHARLES what er'e He mindes AN ELEGIE VPON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT NOBLE and Magnanimous Heroë HENRY Earle of Oxford Viscount Bulbec Lord Samford and Lord great Chamberlaine of England WHO SICKENED IN SERVICE OF HIS KING and Countrie in defence of the States And died at the Hagh in Holland Aprill 1625. By ABRAHAM HOLLAND Printed 1626. TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE AND NOBLE LADY DIANA Countesse of OXFORD Dowager of the Deceased HENRY Earle of OXFORD Viscount BVLBEC Lord SAMFORD and Lord great Chamberlaine of ENGLAND AND TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE AND APPROVED Souldier ROBERT VERE the succeeding Earle of OXFORD Heire apparant to the same Noble Titles and Honours To both their Honours This Elegie is Consecrated By H. H. An Elegie upon the Death of the right Noble and Magnanimous HENRIE Earle of Oxford Viscount Bulbec c. WHat Starre was wanting in the Skie what place To be supplied anew what empty space That requir'd OXFORD was some Light growne dim Some Starre Decrepit that suborned Him To darke the Earth by his Departure Sure The Thracian God to make his Orbe more pure Hath borrow'd him where in his fiery Carre He shines a better MARS a brighter Starre Or like a new Orion doth he stand In Christall Maile and a bright blade in 's hand An armed Constellation while the Quire Of Pyrrhick dancers with reflecting fire Glitter on him or like a Comets rage Strikes he amazement on the trembling age Alas these glorious fancies but expresse His worth and our love to him not make lesse The rape of Fate while we poore Mortalls farre More want such men than heaven could want a Star Let Griefe then speake and for this wofull time Let me nor studie Number Verse or rime But write in fragments so 't shall be my due Though not a Poet good a Mourner true Though I should say no more but OXFORD's dead That would be made an Elegie to spread It selfe as farre as sorrow the Contents Enlarg'd to Volumes by the teares laments And griefe in-generall when the world affords So vast a comment unto so few words Yee Powers above that looke on men with eyes Iust and impartiall if in Fate there lies Still more revenge ô let us wretches know Our lot before that we may weepe below A timely expiation and prevent The torrent of thy wrath which now is bent To make a Deluge or'e us who have found Though after all Great IAMES was laid in ground A Plague and OXFORDS Death 't is hard to say Which of the two doth more our losse display The ruines both being Generall and can Heaven be so angrie with poore feeble man To persecute him further No the rage Of Pestilence which spreadeth through the age Can scarce surpasse his losse cast feare away Fate cannot teeme more mischiefe and must stay Now at the height of Vengeance OXFORDS death Hath ingag'd heaven to spare the rest beneath Who what he living was those men can tell Who past the North and Southerne Poles doe dwell I need not write it that were but to show What we now want and what we once did owe To such a man whose like ensuing dayes Shall scarce produce Antiquitie may praise Their HECTORS and ACHILLES with a dim And fain'd applause while we doe but right him In their Encomiums Who like a New-borne Starre Bred us amazement onely and from farre Made us admire what he in time would bee And so shut up his Early light while wee Wonder that Fate could be so prodigall So soone to show so quickly to let fall So great a glorie which we well may say Had but an houre a Minute a short day That did deserve an age yea some will say As the best things he made the shorter stay T' expresse an Excellence Yet alas herein We doe but flatter

haue seene weary sweating Charon well In feruent labour with his mossy oares Tugging pale shaddowes to th' ore-swarmed shores Which on the bancks as they lamenting crept Wailing Cocytus in compassion wept Acheron flow'd with griefe and as they say Lethe it selfe could neuer forget this day The Furies whin'd by Plutoes Iudgement cast Who sware their rage was farre by men surpast One coming heere might tired Clotho spie How she could searse her weary arm 's apply To turne the wheele and Lachesis repine Who sware she could not threds of mortalls twine So fast as they were cut you might haue seene Atropos raging with remorsles teene And seeking each where for some greetty stone To whet her sheeres whose edge was dulled growne With too much cutting of their fatall thread Whose haples liues this gastfull battell shed Fire now and water did not each contend But seeme their power so mutually to lend That at this time there many a one became Burn't in the sea and drowned in the flame This one good hap to carkasses did fall Th' had fire to burn 'em at their funerall The mangled ships not fearing to be drencht Gladly take breaches thereby to be quencht But now thou Tisiphonc infernall Muse Rouzing thy selfe from Stygian sleepe peruse The various Images of dreary Fate Hapning in this sad Fight and Intimate Them to my mind which well I thinke agree Not with a sweete and heauenly Muse but thee Th' Industrious Pilot sitting at the sterne VVhere in a little card he can discerne The vast vncertainetie of Neptunes haunt Ruling swift ships by powerfull Adamant Here as he sits retir'd and watchfull minds The frequent change of two and thirty winds Comes an vnruly shot and him doth force To certaine death change his vncertaine course So he that wont stern blasts in truce to bind Could not foresee when he should loose his wind From stormes and Mists of Death he could not free Himselfe who wont the Tempests curbe but he Who bearding Neptune vs'd on th' Ocean float Is now controll'd in Charons little boat The Master ranging vp and downe the Deck And wounded mortally to him doth beck His Mate who hasting to his ayd in vaine Is there together with the Maister slaine And at once ended with him his liues Date Proouing himselfe truely the Masters Mate The Trumpetter with braue reuiuing sound Quickning their dying harts is fell'd ●oth ' ground And as in 's mouth he still the brasse did wield His dying breath made it a dead march yeeld And hauing lent his Trumpet so much breath In 's life it turn'd him some againe at 's death The Drummer with his nimble hand repeating His doubled blowes without compassion beating His harmlesse drum which seem'd with groning cry To murmur at his Maisters cruelty Sodenly two rash bullets rudely come Tearing both skin of drumer and the Drum Drummer of life of sound the Drum 's bereft So Drum and Drummer both are speechles left The Gunner as with nimble hast he runs To fire his seldome-vaine-reporting Guns His head a leaden-winged bullet hits And his hard braine-pan into peeces splits He of a thousand this alone might vaunt That of his death he was not ignorant And this true riddle might of him abide He liued once by 's Death by 's life now dide Here comes a Captaine with vndaunted face Encouraging his souldiers to the Chace And being about to say be braue and bold An vntaught bullet rudely bids him hold And as death's mist in his dull eyes did wander Beseeching ayd he left to be commander And he whose voice from fainting thought to call them By 's dying grone doth fearefully apall them This leader faithfull to his vtmost breath Can onely now lead them the way to Death See how to steale the wauing flagg one climbs Vp by the cards but being espied betimes Tangled i' th' ropes he is of life bereft And so is hang'd for his intended Theft But the cords burnt wherin his leggs were bound He gets a Pirats death both hang'd and drown'd Some vnder hatches closed in despaire Mount vp their foes with powder into the aire Which done it seem'd a strange prodigious sight A troupe of armed men to maske the light It seemeth yet that they no damage meant 'em Who the next way vp into heauen sent 'em Making them flie beyond Dae'dalian skill In the vast aire without a winged quill Giuing to them a strange vnwonted death Who hauing aire too much yet wanted breath See see the lot of sad Mortality Our chiefest help 's helpe oft to Miserie Some men who came secure from future harmes Inroll'd in well-proou'd steely clothed armes Fall by mischance into the sea 's dire hand Whence being vnarm'd they might haue swom to land Their armes doe sinke and without mercy end 'em So kill'd by that which chiefly should defend ' em One with his Musket ready to giue fire Aymes at another aduerse Muskettier But his match missing fire hee 's forc't to die By the others matches true fidelity By which he di'de can scarc'ly well be knowne Whether by th' others Musket or his owne See there a Coward wanting heart t' abide The daunting face of the fierce aduerse side Slinketh behind the next not caring whither Comes a mad shot and kill 's 'em both together Praise him in this for though his life outdar'd him To equall th' other yet his death compar'd him Neuertheles if truly ye doe mind him As in his life in 's death he came behind him One seeming now his side begin to faile Shew's them their colours while himselfe lookes pale Sure by this man some Omen ill was showne To keepe their colours who could loose his owne Those men who chanced in the ships to fall The cruell sea was made their buirall And intoth ' waues without remorse were throwne Poore men slaine by their foes drownd by their owne A Fisherman who nigh them cut the Maine Sitting in 's boate was with a bullet slaine And the barke fir'd wherein he dead did fall Which gratis burnt gaue him his Funerall True to thy Maister kind boat who with him Didst oft in life and now in death do'st swim With him aliue in water that didst tire Thy waue-beat sides dy'st now with him in fire Yet me thinks thou shouldest not deserue this turne Who so oft plung'd with him which shouldest burne Yet saile with him t' Elysium saile the faster In Carons stead that thou maist waft thy Maister Strang Boat which thus we not amisse may call His Life Death Charon and his Funerall A Noble man that was a Renegate While he against his King doth boldly prate A shot takes off his head as if t were reason That he should be beheaded for his Treason A baser fellow while he dares complaine And raile against his once owne Soveraigne A true Liege-man as he thus boldly brags Striketh him vp and his vile body drags About the ship and while he vainely begs Remosles cutteth off his