Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	eternal_a	life_n	world_n	9,745	5	4.8408	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A08871	An Italians dead bodie, stucke with English flowers elegies, on the death of Sir Oratio Pallauicino.	Field, Theophilus, 1574-1636.; Hall, Joseph, 1574-1656.	1600 (1600)	STC 19154.3; ESTC S2264	12,772	31

AN ITALIANS dead bodie Stucke with English Flowers Elegies On the death of Sir Oratio Pallauicino LONDON Printee by Thomas Creede for Andrew Wise and are to be sold at his shop in Powles Church-yard 1600. TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPfull and vertuous his singular good Lady the Lady Pallauicino Theophilus Feild her deuote seruant dedicateth these mourning weedes RIght vertuous and fayre Lady may it please Your faire now slubbred eyes with weeping long To take a truce with teares that whilst you cease To mourne with which you do your beauty wrong There may be time for me for to expresse My losse which by your losse is comfortlesse Some comfort may from hence to you arise If it be comfort not to weepe alone Oh giue me leaue to speake that which mine eyes Haue writ in teares with which my heart doth grone To be deliuered Loe this child of griefe Seekes vnto you as Nurse for some reliefe Be a dry Nurse to it let it not draw From nipples of your eyes one pretious teare You need not giue it suck for it can chaw And what it chawes his stomacke well will beare Vphold it not with helping it to mone 'T is big enough and now can goe alone This Infant new borne of my moyster braine I cloath'd in black exposing it to view Of many witnesses some of their traine Not well train'd vp but of the ruder crew Disroab'd it robd me without priuiledge To touch a holy thing is sacriledge No lesse was this nay more o foule disgrace They did not onely touch but tooke away A holy Poeme from a holy place Vpon a birth and on a buriall day A mourning weeping birth day to my vearse A day of buriall to Horatios hearse Hence you prophane what had you there to doo Lady my babe was on your alter plac'd Sacred deuote and consecrate to you By your eyes gracious aspect to be grac'd They were Church robbers who did dare to spoyle The holy labors of an others toyle After long search and much enquiry made The lost child by his mother found againe Who trauailing a new on childbed laide Seekes vnto you as Nurse to ease her paine After your cloudes of griefe be ouer blowne Desires you to adopt him for your owne His father would be yours for yours he was Whilst he belongd to your deceased mate No patron of his poems now he has And therefore doth them to you dedicate Loue them for his sake from whose sorrowed death Halfe dead for sorrow they haue borrowed breath An Italians dead bodie stucke with English Flowers The Heraulds office I le assume to mee Forward my Muse chiefe mourner thou shalt bee Impute it not to pride I for most goe T is a poore pride to be the chiefe in woe Vpon the death of the Right Worshipfull Knight his very honourable Patron Sir Horatio Pallauicino Verses thrust out by force when teares fell and followed of their owne accord NAy spare not Enuy malice spit thy gall Say what you can gainst my Horatio Gainst my Maecenas be not partiall Vertue nor dead nor liuing wants a foe Him liuing gainst you both I haue defended He dead in spight of spight shal be commended Enuy layes hand on mouth nay sheare thy teeth O art thou toothlesse she points to the graue And saith she is buried with him Dead and seeth She win-kes Nay that is not that we would haue There needs no winking where there is no error Looke on this sight thy sight confounding mirror Put on thy spectacles and throughly view We craue no fauour still she will be blinde Because that vertue shall not haue her dew She can no fault she will nought praise-worth finde I could saith she say then and say but sooth Enuy still hath though she doth hide her tooth I for Horatio held my hand at barre Of what small blemish canst thou him endite I haue withdrawne my action dead men are Dead to the law who bites that cannot bite A dogge Such is that many headed Cerberus The common people whom Horatio fed Yet could not stop their mouthes Now woe to vs They cry and to our staruelings He is dead Who when with hunger we were all nigh dead Refreshed and reuiued vs with bread And yet oh how far enuy carrieth men He carried and transported stop toong there Recant a lye thy words call backe agen He did transport corne When when corne was deare Whither to heauen euen corne of life the staffe Which when God winowed he found no chaffe And for he found no chaffe he stor'd it vp In his owne garner Liuor post fata quiescit Virtutem incolumem odimus Sublatam ex oculis quaerimus inuidi Theophil Feild Vpon the same PAtrons and Poets haue bene alwaies scant Is now there number then encreased no Shall dead Augustus then a Virgil want Oh for a Horace for Horatio Horatio Maecaenas call him rather Or if ye will the Muses foster father Rimesters enough enough can make a song A Ballot or such like and thereunto Annex a wofull tune they do thee wrong Apollo and thy true borne sonnes vndo For why are Poets clogd with pouertie Because these bastards imbase poesie Augustus nor Maecaenas nere till now Were miss'd and wish'd till Horatio dide In him they died both the lawrell bough Did wither as his bodie putrifide Hence neither Horace nor a Maro liues Since Poets are their Patrons relatiues Deceas'd Augustus liues by liuely vearse Of Maro Maro liued by his purse Horace reuiueth his Maecaenas hearse Whose bountie had bene erst his Muses Nurse Life giuen for liuing and bread giuen for breath Virgil giues most he giues life after death How can you spend your treasure better then Then treasuring vp eternall memorie You muck-wormes of the world the scorne of men This gift is in the gift of poetrie My Patron was a patterne for you all Whose fames life is his bodies funerall Virgil and Horace I enuy you not For hauing so great Patrons as you had In poetrie you had a greater lot Augustus for bad ware so much nere bad Nere gaue so much He gaue to Publius A Bakers dole a boxe to Chaerilus Bread bare allowance for lifes sustenance Dry morsell beggers almes necessitie Did aske no more more royall maintenance Gaue my Augustus Superfluitie So thinkes the baser clowne what 's giuen to vs I meane to Schollers is superfluous I Chaerilus or Poet worse then hee Had royall Phillips for my quarters pay Virgil and Horace did deserue their fee To giue them is to sell not giue away No gift to sell for gaine but greedinesse The lesse my worth the more my worthinesse I Chaerilus do pittie Chaerilus No verse did sound ill to Augustus eare But Charilus his eare must strait vntrusse Like schoole boy and his fists correction beare Are not such Patrons rife say Satyrist Who beare in ope hand bread a stone in fist Maro be silent in thy Patrons praise Let Chaerilus Augustus dead fame reare Commend

time aspire to higher place And effect wonders by enchaunting wand It hath alreadie turned earth to water It may drie vp your sea of teares hereafter This colour suting to the time I chose Hoping it might be pretious in your eyes This blacke those faire and that it would expose By foule your fairnesse as two contraries Let them be white and black together placed Are by their opposition ioyntly graced My book 's a perfect mourner see it weares Your liuery and mourneth for your Lord His patron drops of Inke in steed of teares Haue blubbred his leaues His strings accord Vnto the mourners fashion all in all It goes as they went to the funerall In this respect you ought to welcome it That it will be copartner of your griefe Nor suffer you alone lamenting sit But mourning with you giue some reliefe 'T will tell you he you mourne for is not dead But from this country to a better fled My child I cald it for his infancie Because it cannot tell his tale of wo As it conceaues but onely yet can crie And sound the name of dead Horatio When it growes troublesome do you but will it It soone will cease cease crying and you still it It onely yet can cry but when t is growne Able to tell his mind in better words If you meane while vouchsafe it for to owne It then shall giue you what his skill affords Then shall you gather for these weeds I yeeld A Coal-wort at the hardest in your field Your Ladiships bounden in all dutie and seruice Theophilus Feild Horatio's departed so men do say Great pittie he could here no longer stay Say hee 's departed say not hee 's dead Nor as of others let of him be sed He was not quelde nor conquered of death But him did combat while he was in breath His breath him failing cause he would not fite He challeng'd death and for he has his rite His body challendg'd as a challenge gloue He gaue his body plighting faith to proue Death in a deadly combat and affray When the last sound shall call all men away Till then his soule aboue doth heauenly pleasures gaine Then will his bodie win from death for aie to raigne T. S. Pemb. Horatio's departed so I heard them say Pittie he could here no longer stay Say hee 's departed say not he is dead But from one place vnto an other sped Say not of him that he is dead and gone Say onely he is gone With company or alone His wife and children he hath left behind Though to haue borne him company was their mind But thus he thought a long dead way and ill For them poore soules to go it would them kill Alter Idem Another Who sayes Horatio died in his bed He lyes he died like a dubbed head He di'd I say like knighthood in the field Encountring death which forc't him not to yeeld I saw the fight the knight nere shrunk for death But stoutly stood too 't while he was in breath When breath him failed his foe him did cōfound With deadly blow he feld him to the ground A cowards part Might he haue tooke his winde The knight had liu'd yea kild I beare the minde Who dying mindfull of his honor graspt And held his armes men dying vse hold fast Nor did his foe out of the field them carry You saw the Herauld did them with him bury The same Another A Knight of late death challen'd into field To fight a combat at sword and shield The Knight him answer'd as did become And when they met as I haue heard by some He felly fought and stood to 't to the death He tride it out till he was out of breath A noble knight death did him valiant finde And had the worst while he might fetch his winde Pittie our life 's no better then a blast And brauest mind should so be spent at last When breath him faild that day was at an end He ceas'd hi● sword against his foe to bend And giuing death the glory of that fray Dar'd him to try t againe another day Withall his corps his challenge for to proue He cast in steed of gantlet or of gloue And swore by th' honour of his head he would Againe recouer what was cast on mould Death tooke vp one and vndertooke the other And bids him poynt both place and places brother He points the Church-yard and the latter day When sound of Trumpe shall batle bid array The same What i st thus many eyes one obiect haue And all are bended to yon new made graue O t is on yonder Corse their eyes are fixt It sor to see thus people here are mixt And as the twinckling diamonds of heauen When all thing● are of Phaebus light bereuen B● spred the heauens appearing to our sight And lend the earth their litle borrowed light So they all deeming this thrise worthy Knight Worthy more dayes his day now turn'd to night Endeuour to illustrate with their light In spight of clowdie death to make him bright They do not looke vpon the fatall bere As most of them afore accustom'd were His body hauing lost his soule and breath They say's become a soule vnto the earth His Coffin is a Coffer as they say Wherein this wary world thought good to lay This pretious Iewel brought from farther parts An ornament to Schollers and the Arts. T. S. Pemb. Horatios Coffin no more it call Death's Coffin call 't if ye call 't at all Wherein he hath laid vp a pretious Pearle A Noble man though neither Lord nor Earle Muse you on earth death would not let him tarrie Men in the earth their Treasure vse to burie Alter Idem The conquest of two Traitors Enuie and Death by the worthy Knight Sir Horatio Pallauicino ENuy and Death conspired both togeather Gainst Sir Horatio two leane-fac'd fiends Which euer haunt the best birds of one feather Voyd of all loue that pray vpon their friends Both qualifi'd alike both treacherous Enuy is deadly death is enuious Th' one to the body mortall wounds doth giue The other doth impeach a mans good name Th' one pines the other liues by them that liue Yet fretteth at the liuings liuing fame Th' one is like Sagittarius with shafts dight Th' other like Scorpio's venomd teeth doth bite This the conspiracie was which they wrought That Enuy for his life 's vncertaine lease Should wrack his fame whose ouerthrow she sought When death should warning giue then to surcease Death vowed not to hasten till that houre When Enuy on his name should haue no pow're Enuy who neuer lookt with cheerfull eye Was glad at this wishing no longer date Her malice all-bewitching force to try And exercise her inward-boyling hate Thinking that sooner heate would fire faile Then any thing her force abate or quaile Eftsoones she as impatient of delay With tooth and nayle endeuor'd to outrace His rising fame taking the cause away Vertue I meane and good deeds