Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	great_a	know_v	life_n	7,935	5	4.3038	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A63874	Affectuum decidua, or, Due expressions in honour of the truly noble Charles Capell, Esq. (sonne to the Right Honourable Arthur Ld. Capell, Baron of Hadham) deceased on Christmas Day, 1656	Turner, Francis, 1638?-1700.	1656 (1656)	Wing T3273; ESTC R5314	9,517	32

AFFECTVVM DECIDVA Or DVE EXPRESSIONS In honour of the truly noble CHARLES CAPELL Esq Sonne to the right honourable ARTHVR L d CAPELL Baron of Hadham deceased on Christmas Day 1656. Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus Tam Chari Capitis OXFORD Printed Anno Dom. 1656. To the Honourable HENRY CAPELL Esq Son to the Lord CAPELL Baron of Hadham These ensuing ELEGIES are Most humbly Dedicated and Presented Most Honoured Sr WHen I had wept so long till all their store Mine Eyes had spent and so could weep no more My Hands turn'd Publicanes t'recieveth ' Arrears Such as were sent by other Volunteers I know what hazard They and I may run Condemn'd perhaps for strange presumption But view Those Hearts which through the mourning Dresse Of reptile Elegies are crept to th' Presse And You 'l confesse as all the World beside It was our Duties Product not our Pride Then thinke for charitie that all was done Out of Respect not Ostentation And where the highest Auxesis You see Call it ambitious Realitie Believe but This let Hell and Earth let loose Censures which might Momus himselfe amuse Go angry Billowes cease to Roare or Hisse Though Castor 's gon Pollux my Patron is Your Honour 's most faithfull most humble and most oblieged Servant FRANC TURNER From New Coll. Oxon March 2. 1656. To the Right Honourable The Lady CAPELL Baronesse by occasion of the death of the highly accomplisht her deare Son Mr CHARLES CAPELL Madam SHould I'curse Atropos for this Or damne Alecto to Whippe Lachesis Should I make huge Apostrophe's to Fate Or banne pale Death as too Importunate I know you 'd loath each line Your Nobler sense Honour'd by us Worships a Providence You bow to th' Justice Goodnesse and the Care Of that Allmighty Guardian whose you are And whom you serve and could not chuse but cry Out Heathenisme out Fledg'd Blasphemy But since your Honour knowes our hearts are cold Pardon a sigh or two We must be bold To beg 't and to conceive 't a Veniall Sin To let those goe no Spirit can keepe in Th' are all for Him of whom you thinke and dream For as small Brook's are Swallow'd in the streame And th' Plague devours Agues so W' are growne To have ten thousand greifs and yet but One. In Him Was ah sad Was in Him was seene Our all more than all Nestor at eighteene In 's Travails he indulg'd the World He wan Affections gave the Copy of a Man At home I cry to thinke how Coveted i th' Feild i th' Schooles at Councells Board and Bed We cannot guesse our losse The Spaniard know's As well what ingot in Potosi growes Neptune may count his Treasures up assoone As we what Glory 's buried here in one His worth cracks Phancy and Hyperbolyes Fame would performe his Apotheosis But Finds her selfe too weake i th' Lungs to hold Till th' Tith off him toth ' listning world be told Men cald him Heav'n on earth but Now we see That Heav'n on Heav'n makes no False Heraldry This was his Scene he came to be desir'd And Blush at 's owne deserts to be admir'd Yours Madam is the Next and 't is that Feild Must to your sexes Valour Trophee's Yeild Whose tendernesse hates steele T is this must be Your Marston-moore Edg-Hill and Newbury Never came Passion so impowr'd so strong Or Mad for Conquest We here of the throng All looke at th' Issue Get the day and then Great Xander waits among your serving men You 'd know how such a Battle might be won Heare what your Chaplaine say's and it is done Your Ladyships with all Lowlinesse and Devotion to Serve you R. SHARROCK On the Death of the honourable CHARLES CAPELL Esq deceased not long before His intended Marriage ONe onely Time that happy Day From which I keepe my Epocha I saw This Heroe such a sight Might rivall Heav'n and Earth benight Let those who knew Him better praise His noble Soule my humbler Bayes Aspire no further then to shew The strangenesse of that Interview Thus to behold the greatnesse of our losse His face shall serve me for a Looking glasse Whose trickling Eyes did never see In nature's proudest Imag'ry One of so rare a make as HE. Methoughts His manly visage own'd That Love and Honour there were thron'd As if they Two should on that stage Get warriours for the future Age His Eyes they might be Venus hopes And yet Bellona's Telescopes One Glance could looke us Dead and then Another call us back agen Who this should be my guesse had straggled farre He seem'd both Phaebus and the God of Warr But by instinct at last I hit That 't was Prince Arthur's sonne and yet That HE himselfe was Charles the Great Who e're He was the standers by Were all Bedwarft as well as I For what so ere He did it all Became Him as a Generall O had he bin the Giants Cheife To range their Troops and bring reliefe To fetch them off and lead them on Though they cashier'd Oromedon Maugre the shrinking Gods and their allies They might have sup't that very night i' th' skies And Jove the lesser poore pedee Pressing to serve Him on the Knee Resign'd His ill-got Soveraignty Say then interpreter whose Ey Uncloud's the mistique Energy Of things abstruse come tell us how Death overcame His courage now Was He tan'e napping as 't is said Upon His almost-Nuptiall bed Or did His haughty Soule disdaine To fight the dastard Death againe Esteeming Him but as a vanquisht foe 'Bove Sixteene Hundred Christmasses agoe No no such stratagem would take For all His valour would awake For His betrothed Ladie 's sake But the Triumphant Church on high Wanted His presence in the Skie And now forsaken we must want His presence in the Militant Thinke then He was unman'd to be Made Part'ner in That Hierarchie And what we nick-nam'd Forward Fate A Prologue to His nobler State So like Aenaeas He made hast to Die The fitter to accept a Deity But were not Heav'n His Journey 's End In One so High I durst contend 'T were Condescention to Ascend THO HUSEY Col Trinit Gent. Com On the much lamented Death of the honourable CHARLES CAPELL Esq SO soone remov'd can HE be winged Hence And all the Muses dumb can He commence A Saint in Secret Such a Sun as HE Be thus invelop'd in the Canopie Of profound Darknesse long and dismall Night And shall not we all mourne in Black and White It cannot be for even costive I Whose Hide-bound fancy dread's all Poëtrie Now strein to weepe a Rythme and needs must vent My greife in uncouth language and lament The world's sad losse and Towring Honour's Fall In This so Great a Person 's Funerall Generall Catastrophe the Nation Seem's to be almost Levell'd now He 's gon And if His Brother did not live to be All Ages Pattern and Typographie Of wondring Europe I d'e believe henceforth That there might be a Party in worth

And none hereafter dare to plead pretence To anie 'bove the vulgar Excellence But This prodigious HE finding a Dearth Of Heroe's made His Life equall His Birth And not content with native Greatnesse HE Improv'd His richer Soile by Industrie And ever husbanded His time so well He was become full Ripe before He Fell. But Blasted are our Hopes let 's fruitfully Water with Teares His Hearse let every Pen speake Him truly Great and Good and cry Such are the Ruins of Nobility GABRIELL THISTLETHWAYTE Fellow of New Col. Civ On The Truly Noble CHARLES CAPELL Esq immaturely taken hence being with in few weekes of Marriage VVHen Common men decease t' will serve then turns If with a sigh we waite upon their Urnes Wee ' l no such Mourning who come's here t is meant He bring the Bottles of some Penitent His eyes and all like clouds must pregnant be With Showers to lament This Destiny That the Faire Lady whom His Courtly charmes Prevail'd e're long t' empale within His Armes Betweene Her selfe and Her dead Lover As 'Twixt Hero and Leander once it was May to bewaile th' Division see there do'es An Hellespont of Teares soone interpose Nor can we give lesse Passion to condole The suddaine Flight of so Divine a soule As disaffected with the baser waies Trod by the Gallants of these lewder dayes An higher Walke frequented 'bove the place Where th' Gyant Planet trot's his lofty pace Shooting His thoughts those arrowes of the mind Up to the Pallace of the Unconfin'd But this Elogium only shew's we scan His Christian Parts Let 's speake Him as a man Since Madam Nature ha's Her Jewels too Those Minion Graces that she doe's bestow And breathing on This Theame who 'l not suppose I' me blowing open a most Fragrant Rose For looking thus into Him what do I But into a like Garden boldly pry As that where Poets say men may behold A stately Tree laden with Fruit of gold His youthfull yeares could we exactly trace They ' d make a frosty Grandfire hide his Face To know the Prudence that enchas'd His breast More than by doating Rabbies is possest His Temper was so sweete His wit acute 'T would ha' made Fletcher or Ben-Jonson mute His valour too may well be understood When in such times as These He durst be Good Who as in age so still in vertue rose It is no wonder Heav'n would Him engrosse Thus the bright Queene That Regent of the Night As she advance's gathers Greater Light Yet must at length if not dissolve Away The World 's not made without a Fatall day THO. HOWELL On the Death of CHARLES CAPELL Esq second Sonne to the L d CAPELL of famous memory hapning on Christmas-Day COuld sable Drops from Pen and Eyes distill Or Briny Teares b' extracted from a Quill Could Greife with Colour'd Accents sighing groane Or Words put on a sad Complexion I ' ld writing weepe and weeping write my Teares Should speake Thy Death my words bedew Thine Hearse My Genius 't is confest vailes to the Rest In writing Elegies Mourne's with the best Should Heedlesse Greife some faults in Lines incurre Teares should wash out the blot Groanes clense the blurre Presumptuous Death t' insult and Triumph then On Men Renown'd and Nobler Spirits when Thine owne Captivity thou should'st deplore Gain'd by our Captains Birth a Saviour So stormes a Calme deface unhappy we To mourne not joy on the Nativity But stay sure 't was Thy Zeale Divine desire To solemnize this Feast among the Quire Of Saints and Angels where to Sing thy Part And fill the Chorus these shall give thee Art Pardon Dear Saint since I 've presum'd to be Partner in Greife grant an Indemnity T' a Twilight-fancy whose bright sunne being sate Shall cease to write though not to imitate WILL MILES Batch of Arts in New Coll. On the Death of the truly Noble and no lesse vertuous CHARLES CAPELL Esq who dyed of the Small-Pox Vpon ChrIstMas Day Last TO write your Life were it my Taske Great Sir I feare I should subscribe your murderer To do 't to Halfes were faire But t' would be s'ed I kill'd you were 't but drawne and quartered Yet he 's Long-liv'd dread Saint who but procures Life to improve like You the Tythes of Yours So that I dare not say You Non-ag'd dy'd Though it be true the world would sweare I Ly'd Nay though by what You Liv'd it might have knowne Had You Liv'd still You ' de ner'e beene over-growne Yet Under-age it wo'nte allowe but hold Your Ripenesse ne're was Non-age'd but borne Old Were 't not that Innocents are Infants style'd Who saw You Youngest never knew You Childe Prose licence me For Him verse is not meete Whose Life though soone run out out-runs those Feete I would dare venture on 't but since I know To speak to th' Life is not to make Him so Nothing but Death I 'le breath I ne're did feare The Small-Pox could fore-run a Plague but Here 'T would Rack a Poet-parliament to sit And club Invention to speake well of it Those spots His Body did bespangle say That they were stars fix'd in the milkie-way Yet mourning His DECREASE we must complaine Stars in this milkie-way prove'd CHARLES His WAINE Small-Pox Thou nick-name'd Evill I dare not call That Grape-stone which but choak'd Anacreon Small And shalt Thou be Thou shouldst have cast about To play small games then Here thou hadst stood out What least that Noble Blood should still have gone Untainted must Thou bring Infection Could I spit venome to blemish thee I 'de trie To make thy spots more and of deeper Die And Thou Black-day scarce should I think it fit To name thee under Black and White with it But that I find thee Checkcr'd for I see His Death falls in with Christs Nativitie And thus 't was fit His Life and Death accorde He liv'd the Day speakes to die in the Lord. Then quit the day And 'till we thinke of worse We 'le let the Pox that plagu'd us be a Curse EDW LOWE fellow of New Col. On the Death of the Eminently Enobled CHARLES CAPELL Esq Who after He had honour'd Winton Coll. with His Education and accomplisht Himselfe with a voyage into FRANCE Dyed of the Small-Pox at LONDON Last Christmas 1656. SHow'r downe your Ponderous Teares who e're you be Dare Write or Read a CAPELL'S Elegie Spangle His Hearse with Pearles such as are borne 'Twixt the blear'd Eielids of an o're cast Morn And but 't is vain t' expostulate with Death Or vilifie the Fates with frustrate breath Pose Destinie with Why 's Why Such a Sun Should set before His Noonetide Stage were run Why This Faire Volume should be bound so fast In Wooden Covers Clasp't-up in such hast Was Nature fond of It's Large Character And those Divine Impressions graven There Did shee least we should spoyl't to wave that Sin ' Cause 't was the Best-Edition call-it-in Or would our Vaunting Isle that Saints should

see Th' utmost of all our Prodigalitie Fearing some detriment by long delay Send Heav'n a New-Year's-Gift Before the Day No th' Empyrean Philomels could sing Without His voice no Carolls to their King England's Metropolis for 't was in Thee He dy'd We re-baptize Thee Calvarie The Charnel-house of Gallantry henceforth We brand Thy Front with Golgotha of Worth Had He bin Swallow'd in that Curteous Deep He Travail'd o're He had bin lull'd asleep In th' Amorous Sea-Nymphs stately Armes at ease His Great Name would Imposthumate the Seas That when the Waves should Swell and Tempests rise Strong Waters challenging the Dastard Skies Poore Shipwrack't Mariners remembring Him Should court His Asterisme and cease to swimm Abjure the Fatall-Brothers glow-worme Fires And dart at Him their languishing desires Had France intomb'd Him what Our Land forbid's Nature had rear'd Him Stately Pyramids The lofty Alpes where it had bin most meete Their harmlesse Snow should be His Windingsheet That Alablaster-Coverture might be An Embleme of His native-Puritie Had He fall'n There it had bin True perchance WICCHAM's Third Colledge might be found in FRANCE But He return'd from Thence curb'd Neptune's pride And to our Fame and Greife came Home and Dy'd Thus when the Heav'n ha's whee'ld it's Dayly Race About Our Earth At Night it 's glorious Face Is Pox't with Starres Yet Heav'n admits no Blot And ev'ry Pimple There 's a Beauty-spot Shortliv'd Disease that can'st be cur'd and gon By One sweet Morning's Resurrection Adieu Great Sir whose Totall He that will Describe in Folio need 's a Cherub's Quill Zealous Posterity Your Tombe shall stirre Hoard up Your Dust Rifle Your Sepulcher And as the Turks did Scanderbeg's of old Shall weare your Bones in Annulets of Gold But my blasphemous Pen prophane's His Glory I 'le say but This to all His Tragique Story Were not the World well nigh it 's Funerall I 'de ne're believe so Bright a Starre could Fall THO. FLATMAN fellow of New Col. On the lamented death of CHARLES CAPELL Esq deceased last Christmas 1656. FIrst shall the Poles concurre and joine in one And vaulted Snayles the light foot Hare out-run First shall the Ocean sinke into a Drop And life and Death t' oppose each other stop E're Pen or Tongue or Thought can comprehend Our boundlesse losses by Great CAPEL's End Were the sage Antiquaries Heer combin'd In Him alone they 'd a Non ultrà find Could now my power my heart but countermain I 'de tread the Clouds to view Him in His Wain Wer 't at my liberty to weep my fill Mines Eyes should Bloody Deluges distill That heav'n and Earth might both be dy'd in Red ' Caus Black 's too Light to moan a CAPEL dead Thrice happy Julius may thy Year be term'd Whose Rise and Fall Two Heroes have confirm'd Thy January and December shall Be writ henceforth in Letters Capitall Royall approximation These Two Themes Tell us the Vertues may be in Extreams What t' One Montrosse's learned Sword once gave Th' Other shall in our Hearts Engraven have Methinks we all Circumferentiall seeme Till meeting we Concentricate in Him Nature's Epitome Our Blazing Starre In whom like Rayes the vertues gather'd were Thus much in Generalls for He 's like Stars Too comprehensive for Particulars His fame like th' Eagle from a Roman's Hearse By Psaphon's Birds shall fill the Universe Thrice happy Wicchamists on Us were darted The Morning Beams of This bright Sun departed Unhappy world under Death's fatall Law Thou 'rt Plundred of Thy Cornucopia And spendthrifts we Our Stock being brought so Low May quite despaire and now a begging go Thus our Penfeather'd Lives may seem to be The Actors of our owne Catastrophe Rare and Divine too rich for Inhumation Fitter by farre for Enoch's high translation Boast not Antipodes though You alone May say you tread against Two Worlds for one Despair of Parallels now Hee 's in Heaven Till the next great Platonick Fifty seven THO MUSPRAT fellow of New Col. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Or An ELEGIE On the Death of the Honourable CHARLES CAPELL Esq Who after He had grac't Winton Coll. with His Society made a Voyage into FRANCE And returning upon Christmas Day not long before His intended Marriage Dyed 1656. BUt it is true Nay then Intomb'd Wisdome must lie and Honour Doom'd Those Royall Twins that might comprize The Angels in their Hierarchies That Eagle-spread those Lamps that die The Azure-spangled-Canopie Lo CHARLES is Dead 't is all in all The losse is Epidemicall Let Orpheus come or Heraclyte Let England club Her Anchorite All 's inarticulate as be The speechlesse signes of Heraldrie Had I the Prophet's head that Floud Of Sacred Sorrow could I Bloud As Jove did Gold distill a Pond And ev'ry drop a Diamond Then would I write and richly conne The Deluge of Deucalion Then would I blaze the glimm ' ring Sun And Gild the Fate of Phaëton From 's Fall I 'de Vigour take as once The Corps did from Elisha's Bones So limbeck-like I 'de Rhet'rick drain And drop it by retail againe Thus am I Tantaliz'd and act The Mute within a Cataract Fame's Trump is full but who can size or Paramount Hyperbolies Yet a Atys like I 'le speake and chide The Fate 's disloyall Deicide Croesus his dumb Son And He as Christ in swathes shall lie Grip't up in This Stenographie View then His Non-age and the store Of WICCHAM's Mineralls The Ore So oft refin'd You 'l change the list Our Pioner prove's Alchymist Nestor's surviv'd Here then descry Old Aeson's Palingenesy View Him agen You 'l find i' th' draught A Planet or an Argonaut The Fleece He gain'd without a Spell Or Palisado ' d Sentinell His Hellespont was but a Creek His Cholcos learned Armorik Correct your Maps let Rome recall The British Colonie let Gaule In Him confesse shee did descry Re-romanized Britanny Hence then ye Dorres o' th ' Time that prize Your drousy-Gods Idolatries That Guard your Lar and starve the name Of never-dying Vesta's Flame Here 's He that grace's both the Crowe Of Pallas and Diana's Bowe His Dish was Knowledge all His Meate Carv'd Labour and His Sauce was Sweate Was not One fam'd who once out-shone The Blazing-starre of Macedon Whose Orientall Vertues made Sol Cancer-like run Retrograde This This is He that Royall Gage Panaretus in 's Minorage He that Heav'n's Empresse could disthrone And captivate Endymion This This is He His Heav'n He saw His Hymen and His Naamah But ô the Fates the greet is deare The Azure's turn'd a Sable Spheare And all reciprocally quaffe An Hymen and an Epitaph Is this your promise Fate be gon 'T is damn'd Prevarication Thy Syren's Voice and Hyen's Guile Ha's vanquish't Aegypt's Crocodile Fell Tyger Earth dare'st re-inthrall Thy Infant 's and turne Caniball Doe's not thy conscious Wombe confesse An un accustom'd Holynesse How shall I rate my Greife Hee 's dead How shall I be Inspirited Oh Niobe were Thy Fate mine I 'de wring