Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	hell_n	life_n	soul_n	7,851	5	4.9047	4	false

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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A18410	An epicede or funerall song on the most disastrous death, of the high-borne prince of men, Henry Prince of Wales, &c. With the funeralls, and representation of the herse of the same high and mighty prince ... VVhich noble prince deceased at St. Iames, the sixt day of Nouember, 1612. and was most princely interred the seuenth day of December following, within the Abbey of Westminster, in the eighteenth yeere of his age.	Chapman, George, 1559?-1634.; Hole, William, d. 1624, engraver.	1613 (1613)	STC 4974; ESTC S107694	17,429	56

Good he ioyn'd with Equitie and Truth VVisedome in yeeres crown'd his ripe head in youth His heart wore all the folds of Policie Yet went as naked as Simplicitie Knew good and ill but onely good did loue In him the Serpent did embrace the Doue Hee was not curious to sound all the streame Of others acts yet kept his owne from them He whose most darke deeds dare not stand the light Begot was of imposture and the night VVho surer then a Man doth ends secure Eyther a God is or a Diuell sure The President of men whom as men can All men should imitate was God and Man In these cleere deepes our Prince fish't troubl'd streams of bloud vantage challenge diadems In summe knot-like hee was together put That no man could dissolue and so was cut But we shal see our foule-mouth'd factions spite Markt witch-like with one blacke eie th' other white Ope oppose against this spotlesse sun Such heauen strike blinder thē th' eclipsed moon Twixt whom and noblesse or humanities truth As much dull earth lies and as little ruth Should all things sacred perish as there lyes Twixt Phaebe and the Light-fount of the skies In her most darke delinquence vermine right That prey in darknesse and abhorre the light Liue by the spoile of vertue are not well But when they heare newes frō their father hell Of some blacke mischiefe neuer do good deed But where it does much harme or hath no need What shall become of vertues far-short traine when thou their head art reacht high Prince of men O that thy life could haue disperst deaths stormes To giue faire act to those Heroique formes with which al good rules had enricht thy mind Preparing for affayres of euery kinde Peace being but a pause to breathe fierce warre No warrant dormant to neglect his Starre The licence sense hath is t' informe the soule Not to suppresse her and our lusts extoll This life in all things to enioy the next Of which lawes thy youth both contain'd the text And the contents ah that thy grey-ripe yeeres Had made of all Caesarean Commentares More then can now be thoght in fact t'enroule And make blacke Faction blush away her soule That as a Temple built when Pietie Did to diuine ends offer specially What men enioy'd that wondrous state exprest Strange Art strange cost yet who had interest In all the frame of it and saw those dayes Admir'd but little and as little praise Gaue to the goodly Fabricke but when men That liue whole Ages after view it then They gaze and wonder and the longer time It stands the more it glorifies his prime Growes fresh in honor and the age doth shame That in such Monuments neglect such fame So had thy sacred Frame beene rais'd to height Forme fulnesse ornament the more the light Had giuen it view the more had Men admir'd And tho men now are scarce to warmnesse fir'd VVith loue of thee but rather colde and dead To all sense of the grace they forfeited In thy neglect and losse yet after-ages VVould be inflam'd and put on holy rages with thy inspiring vertues cursing those VVhose breaths dare blast thus in the bud the Rose But thou woe's me art blown vp before blowne And as the ruines of some famous Towne Show here a Temple stood a Pallace here A Cytadell an Amphitheater Of which ahlas some broken Arches still Pillars or Columns rac't which Art did fill VVith all her riches and Diuinitie Retaine their great and vvorthy memory So of our Princes state I nought rehearse But show his ruines bleeding in my verse What poison'd Ast'risme may his death accuse Tell thy astonisht Prophet deathles Muse And make my starres therein the more aduerse The more aduance vvith sacred rage my Verse And so adorne my dearest Fautors Herse That all the wits prophane of these bold times May feare to spend the spawne of their rancke rymes On any touch of him that shold be sung To eares diuine and aske an Angels tongue VVith this it thundred and a lightning show'd VVhere she sate writing in a sable cloud A Penne so hard and sharpe exprest her plight It bit through Flint and did in Diamant write Her vvords she sung and laid out such a brest As melted Heauen and vext the very blest In which she cal'd all worlds to her complaints And how our losse grew thus vvith teares shee paints Hear earth heauen you that haue no eares Hell and the hearts of tyrants heare my teares Thus Brittaine Henry tooke his timelesse end VVhen his great Father did so far transcend All other Kings and that he had a Sonne In all his Fathers gifts so farre begunne As added to Fames Pynions double wings And as braue riuers broken from their springs The further off grow greater and disdame To spread a narrower current then the Maine Had drawne in all deserts such ample Spheares As Hope yet neuer turn'd about his yeeres All other Princes with his parts comparing Like all Heauens pettie Luminaries faring To radiant Lucifer the dayes first borne It hurld a fire red as a threatning Morne On fiery Rhamnusias sere and sulphurous spight who turn'd the sterne orbs of her ghastly sight About each corner of her vaste Command And in the turning of her bloudy hand Sought how to ruine endlesly our Hope And set to all mishap all entries ope And see how ready meanes to mischiefe are She saw fast by the bloud-affecting Feuer Euen when th'Autumnal-starre began t' expire Gathering in vapours thinne Ethereall fire Of which her venomde finger did jmpart To our braue Princes fount of heat the heart A praeternaturall heat which through the vaines And Arteries by 'th blood and spirits meanes Diffus'd about the body and jnflam'd Begat a Feuor to be neuer nam'd And now this loather of the louely Light Begot of Erebus and vglie Night Mounted in hast her new and noysefull Carre Whose wheeles had beam-spokes frō th'Hungarian star And all the other frame and freight from thence Deriu'd their rude and ruthlesse jnfluence Vp to her left side lept jnfernall Death His head hid in a cloud of sensuall breath By her sat furious Anguish Pale Despight Murmure and Sorrow and possest Affright Yellow Corruption Marow-eating Care Languor chill Trembling fits Irregulare Inconstant Collor feeble voyc't Complaint Relentles Rigor and Confusion faint Frantick Distemper Hare-eyd vnrest And short-breath'd Thirst with th'euer-burning breast A wreath of Adders bound her trenched Browes Where Tormēt Ambusht lay with all her throws Marmarian Lyons frindg'd with slaming Manes Drew this grym furie and her brood of Banes Their hearts of glowing Coles murmurd ror'd To beare her crook't yokes and her Banes abhord To their deare Prince that bore them in his Armes And should not suffer for his Good their Harmes Then from Hels burning whirlepit vp she hallde The horrid Monster fierce Echidna calde That from her Stigian

King and Father on whome fast He fixt his fading beames and with his view A little did their empty Orbs renew His Mind saw him come frō the deeps of Death To whome he said O Author of my Breath Soule to my life and essence to my Soule Why grieue you so that should al griefe cōtroule Death's sweet to me that you are stil lifes creature I now haue finisht the great worke of Nature I see you pay a perfect Fathers debt And in a feastfull Peace your Empire kept If your true Sonnes last words haue any right In your most righteous Bosome doe not fright your hearkning kingdoms to your cariage now All yours in mee I here resigne to you My youth I pray to God with my last powres Substract from me may adde to you and yours Thus vanisht he thus swift thus instantly Ah now I see euen heauenly powres must dye Now shift the King and Queene from court to court but no way can shift off their cares resort That which we hate the more vve flie pursues that which we loue the more we seek eschewes Now weepes his Princely Brother Novv alas His Cynthian Sister our sole earthly Grace Like Hebes fount still ouerflowes her bounds And in her colde lips stick astonisht sounds Sh'oppresseth her sweet kinde In her soft brest Care can no vent finde it is so comprest And see hovv the Promethean Liuer growes As vulture Griefe deuoures it see fresh showes Reuiue woes sence and multiply her soule And worthely for vvho would teares controle On such a springing ground T is dearely fit To pay all tribute Thought can poure on it For vvhy vvere Funerals first vs'd but for these Presag'd and cast in their Natiuities The streames were checkt a while so Torrents staid Enrage the more but are left free allaid Now our grim waues march altogether Now Our blacke seas runne so high they ouerflow the clouds they nourish now the gloomy herse Puts out the Sunne Reuiue reuiue dead vierse death hath slain death there ther the person lies VVhose death should buy out all mortalities But let the world be now a heape of death Lifes ioy lyes dead in him and challengeth No lesse a reason If all motion stoode Benumb'd and stupified with his frozen blood And like a Tombe-stone fixt lay all the seas There were fit pillers for our Hercules To bound the world with Men had better dye Then out-liue free times slaues to Policie On on sad Traine as from a crannid rocke Bee-swarmes rob'd of their honey ceasles flock Mourne mourne dissected now his cold lims lie Ah knit so late vvith flame and Maiestie where 's now his gracious smile his sparkling eie His Iudgement Valour Magnanimitie O God what doth not one short hour snatch vp Of all mans glosse still ouer-flowes the cup Of his burst cares put with no nerues together And lighter then the shadow of a feather On make earth pomp as frequent as ye can 'T will still leaue black the fairest flower of man Yee vvell may lay all cost on miserie T is all can boast the proud'st humanitie If yong Marcellus had to grace his fall Sixe hundred Herses at his Funerall Sylla sixe thousand let Prince Henry haue Sixe Millions bring him to his greedy graue And now the States of earth thus mourn below Behold in Heauen Loue with his broken Bow his quiuer downwards turn'd his brands put out Hanging his wings with sighes all black about Nor lesse our losse his Mothers heart infests Her melting palmes beating her snowy brests As much confus'd as when the Calidon Bore The thigh of her diuine Adonis tore Her vowes all vaine resolu'd to blesse his yeeres VVith Issue Royall and exempt from freres Who now dyed fruitlesse and preuented then The blest of women of the best of men Mourne all ye Arts ye are not of the earth Fall fall with him rise with his second birth Lastly with gifts enrich the sable Phane And odorous lights eternally maintaine Sing Priests O sing now his eternall rest His light eternall and his soules free brest As ioyes eternall so of those the best And this short verse be on his Tomb imprest EPITAPHIVM SO flits ahlas an euerlasting Riuer As our losse in him past will last for euer The golden Age Star-like shot through our Skye Aim'd at his pompe renew'd and stucke in 's eye And like the sacred knot together put Since no man could dissolue him he was cut Aliud EPITAPH VVHom all the vaste frame of the fixed Earth Shrunck vnder now a weake Herse stands beneath His Fate he past in fact in hope his Birth His youth in good life and in spirit his death Aliud EPITAPH BLest be his great Begetter blest the Wombe That gaue him birth though much too neare his Tombe In them was hee and they in him were blest What their most great powers gaue him was his least His Person grac't the Earth and of the Skies His blessed Spirit the praise is and the prise FINIS THE FVNERALS OF THE HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE HENRY Prince of Wales Duke of Cornewaile and Rothsay Count Palatine of Chester Earle of Carick and late KNIGHT of the most Noble Order of the GARTER Which Noble Prince deceased at St. Iames the sixt day of Nouember 1612. and was most Princely interred the seuenth day of December following within the Abbey of Westminster in the Eighteenth yeere of his AGE LONDON Printed by T. S. for Iohn Budg●e and are to be sould at his shop at the great south dore of P●ules and at Brittanes Bursse 1613. THE FVNERALS OF THE HIGH AND MIGHTIE PRINCE HENRY Prince of VVales Duke of Cornewaile and Rothsay Count Palatine of Chester Earle of Carick and late Knight of the most Noble Order of the GARTER VVhich Noble Prince deceased at Saint IAMES the 6. day of Nouember 1612. and was most Princely interred the 7. of December following within the Abbey of Westminster in the Eighteenth yeere of his AGE THe body of the said PRINCE being bowelled enbalmed and closed vp in Lead there were foure Chambers hung with blackes viz. the Gaurd chamber and the Presence with blacke Cloth the Priuy Chamber with finer Cloth and that which was his Highnes Bed-chamber with blacke Veluet in the middest whereof was set vp a Canopy of blacke Veluet valanced and fringed vnder which vpon Tressels the Coffin with the body of the PRINCE was placed couered with a large pall of blacke Veluet and adorned with Scuchions of his Armes Vpon the head of which Coffin was layde a Cushion of blacke Veluet and his Highnesse Cap and Coronet set thereon as also his Robes of estate Sword and Rod of Gould and so it remayned being daily and nightly watched vntill two or three dayes before his Highnesse Funerals In which time euery day both Morning and Euening Prayers were said in his Presence or Priuy Chamber by his Chaplaines and his Gentlemen and chiefe Officers attendant thereat Thursday before the

AN EPICEDE OR Funerall Song On the most disastrous Death of the High-borne Prince of Men HENRY Prince of WALES c. With The Funeralls and Representation of the Herse of the same High and mighty Prince Prince of Wales Duke of Cornewaile and Rothsay Count Palatine of Chester Earle of Carick and late Knight of the most Noble Order of the GARTER Which Noble Prince deceased at St. Iames the sixt day of Nouember 1612. and was most Princely interred the seuenth day of December following within the Abbey of Westminster in the Eighteenth yeere of his Age. LONDON Printed by T. S. for Iohn Budge and are to bee sould at his shop at the great south dore of Paules and at Brittanes Bursse 1612. TO MY AFFECTIONATE AND TRVE Friend Mr. Henry Iones My truest Friend THE most vnualuable and dismaifull hope of my most deare and Heroicall Patrone Prince HENRY hath so stricken all my spirits to the earth that I will neuer more dare to looke vp to any greatnesse but resoluing the little rest of my poore life to obscuritie and the shadow of his death prepare euer hereafter for the light of heauen So absolute constant and noble your loue hath beene to mee that if I should not as effectually by all my best expressions acknowledge it I could neither satisfie mine owne affection nor deserue yours Accept therefore as freely as I acknowledge this vnprofitable signe of my loue till God blessing my future labours I may adde a full end to whatsoeuer is begunne in your assurance of my requitall A little blest makes a great feast my best friend and therefore despaire not but that out of that little our loues alwayes made euen may make you say you haue rather beene happy in your kindnesse then in the least degree hurt There may fauours passe betwixt poore friends which euen the richest and greatest may enuy And GOD that yet neuer let me liue I know will neuer let me die an empaire to any friend If any good more then requitall succeede it is all yours as freely as euer yours was mine in which noble freedome and alacritie of doing you haue thrice done all I acknowledge And thus knowing I giue you little contentment in this so farre vnexpected publication of my gratitude I rest satisfied with the ingenuous discharge of mine owne office Your extraordinary and noble loue and sorrow borne to our most sweet PRINCE entitles you worthily to this Dedication which with my generall Loue vnfainedly protested to your whole Name and Family I conclude you as desertfull of at my hands as our Noblest Earle and so euer remaine Your most true poore Friend GEO CHAPMAN The Herse and Representacion of our late Highe and Mighty HENRY Prince of Wales c AN EPICED OR Funerall Song On the most disastrous Death of the High-borne Prince of Men HENRY Prince of WALES c. IF euer aduerse Influence enui'd The glory of our Lands or tooke a pride To trample on our height or in the Eye Strooke all the pomp of Principalitie Now it hath done so Oh if euer Heauen Made with the earth his angry reckening euen Now it hath done so Euer euer be Admir'd and fear'd that Triple Maiestie VVhose finger could so easily sticke a Fate Twixt least Felicity and greatest state Such as should melt our shore into a Sea And dry our Ocean with Calamitie Heauen open'd and but show'd him to our eies Then shut againe and show'd our Miseries O God to what end are thy Graces giuen Onely to show the world Men fit for Heauen Then rauish them as if too good for Earth VVe know the most exempt in wealth power Birth Or any other blessing should employ As to their chiefe end all things they enioy To make them fit for Heauen and not pursue VVith hearty appetite the damned crue Of meerely sensuall and earthye pleasures But whē one hath done so shal strait the tresures Digg'd to in those deeps be consum'd by death Shall not the rest that error swalloweth Be by the Patterne of that Master-peece Help't to instruct their erring faculties VVhen without cleare example euen the best That cannot put by knowledge to the Test what they are taught serue like the worst in field Is power to force who will not freely yield Being great assistant to diuine example As vaine a Pillar to thy Manly Temple when without perfect knowledge which scarce one Of many kingdoms reach no other stone Man hath to build one corner of thy Phane Saue one of these But when the desperate wane Of power and of example to all good So spent is that one cannot turne the flood Of goodnes gainst her ebbe but both must plie And be at full to or her streame will drie VVhere shall they meete againe now he is gone Where both went foot by foot both were one One that in hope tooke vp to toplesse height All his great Ancestors his one saile freight VVith all all Princes treasures he like one Of no importance no way built vpon Vanisht vvithout the end for vvhich he had Such matchlesse vertues was God-l●ke made Haue thy best vvorkes no better cause t' expresse Themselues like men and thy true Images To toile in vertues study to sustaine vvith comfort for her want shame paine No nobler end in this life then a death Timeles and wretched wrought with lesse then breath And nothing solide worthy of our soules Nothing that Reason more then Sense extols Nothing that may in perfect iudgement be A fit foote for our Crowne eternitie All which thou seem'st to tell vs in this one Killing discomfort apt to make our mone Conclude gainst all things serious and good our selues not thy forms but Chymaeras brood Now Princes dare ye boast your vig'rous states That Fortunes breath thus builds and ruinates Exalt your spirits trust in flowry youth Giue reynes to pleasure all your humors sooth Licence in rapine Powers exempt from lawes Contempt of all things but your own applause And think your swindge to any tyranny giuen VVill stretch as broad last as long as heauen whē he that curb'd with vertues hand his powre his youth with continence his sweet with sowre Boldnes with pious feare his pallats height Applied to health and not to appetite Felt timeles sicknes charge state power to flie And glutted Death with all his crueltie Partiall deuourer euer of the best VVith headlong rapture sparing long the rest Could not the precious teares his Father shed That are with Kingdomes to be ransomed His Bleeding prayer vpon his knees t'implore That if for any sinne of his Heauen tore From his most Royall body that chiefe Limme It might be ransom'd for the rest of Him Could not the sacred eies thou didst prophane In his great Mothers teares The spightful bane Thou pour'dst vpon the cheeks of al the Graces In his more gracious Sisters The defaces with all the Furies ouer-flowing Galles Cursedly fronting

Iawes doth vomit ever Quitture and Venome yet is empty neuer Then burnt her bloudshot eyes her Temples yet Were cold as Ice her Necke all drownd in swet Palenes spred all her breast her lifes heat stung The Minds Interpreter her scorched tongue Flow'd with blew poison frō her yawning Mouth Rhumes fell like spouts fild frō the stormy South Which being corrupt the hewe of Saffron tooke A feruent Vapor all her body shooke From whence her Vexed Spirits a noysome smell Expyr'd in fumes that lookt as blacke as Hell A ceaseles Torrent did her Nosthrils steepe Her witherd Entrailes tooke no rest No sleepe Her swoln throte ratl'd warmd with lifes last spark And in her salt jawes painfull Coughs did barke Her teeth were staind with Rust her sluttish hand Shee held out reeking like a New-quencht Brand Arm'd with crook'd Tallons like the horned Moone All Cheere all Ease all Hope with her was gone In her left hand a quenchles fire did glow And in her Right Palme freez'd Sithonian Snow The ancient Romanes did a Temple build To her as whome a Deitie they held So hyd and farre from cure of Man shee flyes In whose Life 's Power she mates the Deities When fell Rhamnusia saw this Monster nere Here steele Heart sharpning thus she spake to her Seest thou this Prince great Maid seed of Night Whose brows cast beams about thē like the Light Who joyes securely in all present State Nor dreams what Fortune is or future Fate At whome with fingers and with fixed eyes All Kingdomes Point and Looke and Sacrifice Could be content to giue him Temples rayse To his Expectance and Vnbounded Praise His Now-ripe Spirits and Valor doth despise Sicknesse and Sword that giue our Godheads Prise His worth contracts the worlds in his sole Hope Religion Vertue Conquest haue no scope But his Indowments At him at him flie More swift and timelesse more the Deitie His Sommer Winter with the jellid flakes His pure Life poyson sting out with thy Snakes This is a worke will Fame thy Maidenhead With this her speach and she together fledde Nor durst she more endure her dreadfull eyes Who stung with goads her roaring Lyons thyes And brandisht round about her Snak-curld head With her left hand the Torch it managed And now Heavens Smith kindl'd his Forge blew And throgh the round Pole thick the sparkls flew When great Prince Henrie the delight of fame Darkn'd the Pallace of his Fathers Name And hid his white lyms in his downie Bed Then Heaven wept falling Stars that summoned With soft and silent Motion sleepe to breath On his bright Temples th' Ominous forme of death Which now the cruel Goddes did permit That she might enter so her Mayden fit When the good Angell his kind Guardian Her withet'd foot saw neare this spring of Man He shrik't and said what what are thy rude ends Cannot in him alone all vertues friends Melted into his all-vpholding Neru's For whose Assistance euery Deity serues Mooue thee to proue thy Godhead blessing him With long long life whose light extinckt wil dim All heavenly graces all this moou'd her nought But on in his all our rujnes wrought She toucht the Thresholds and the thresholds shooke The dore-posts Palenes pierst with her faint look The dores brake open and the fatall Bed Rudely sh'aproacht thus her fell mouth said Henrie why tak'st thou thus thy rest secure Nought doubting what Fortune fates assure Thou neuer yet felt'st my red right hands maims That I co thee and fate to me proclaimes Thy fate stands jdle spinns no more thy thread Die thou must great Prince sigh not beare thy head In all things free even with necessity If sweet it be to liue t is sweet to dye This said shee shooke at him her Torch and cast A fire in him that all his breast embrac't Then darting through his heart a deadly cold And as much venome as his vaines could holdj Death Death O Death jnserting thrusting in Shut his faire eyes and op't our vglie sinne This seene resolu'd on by her selfe and fate Was there a sight so pale and desperate Euer before seene in a thrust-through State The poore Verginian miserable sayle A long-long-Night-turnd-Day that liu'd in Hell Neuer so portrayd where the Billowes stroue Blackt like so many Devils which should proue The damned Victor all their furies heighting Their Drum the thunder their Colours lightning Both souldiers in the battel one contēding To drown the waues in Noyse the other spēding His Hel-hot sulphurous flames to drink thē dry When heaven was lost when not a teare-wrackt eye Could tell in all that dead time if they were Sincking or sayling till a quickning cleere Gaue light to saue them by the ruth of Rocks At the Bermudas where the tearing shocks And all the Miseries before more felt Then here halfe told All All this did not melt Those desperate few still dying more in teares Then this Death all men to the Marrow weares All that are Men the rest those drudging Beasts That onely beare of Men the Coates and Crests And for their Slaue sick that can earne thē pence More mourne O Monsters thē for such a Prince Whose soules do ebbe flow still with their gain Whō nothing moues but pelf their own pain Let such great Heauen be onely borne to beare All that can follow this meere Massacre Lost is our poore Prince all his sad jndurers The busie Art of those that should be Curers The sacred vowes made by the zealous King His God-like Syre his often visiting Nor thy graue prayers and presence holy Man This Realme thrice Reverend Metropolitan That was the worthy Father to his soule Th'jnsulting Feuer could one fit controule Nor let me here forget on farre and neare And in his lifes loue Passing deepe and deare That doth his sacred Memorie adore Virtues true favtor his graue Chancellor Whose worth in all workes should a Place enioie Where his fit Fame her Trumpet shall jmploie Whose Cares and Prayers were euer vsde to ease His feu'rous Warre send him healthfull peace Yet sicke our Prince is still who though the steps Of bitter Death he saw bring in by heaps Clouds to his Luster and poore rest of light And felt his last Day suffering lasting Night His true-bred-braue soule shrunck yet at no part Downe kept he all sighs with his powers al-Hart Cler'd euen his dying browes and in an Eye Manly dissembling hid his Misery And all to spare the Royall heat so spent In his sad Father fearefull of th' event And now did Phoebus with his Twelfth Lampe show The world his haples light and in his Brow A Torch of Pitch stuck lighting halfe t'half skies When life 's last error prest the broken eyes Of this heart-breaking Prince his forc't look fled Fled was all Colour from his cheekes yet fed His spirit his sight with dying now he cast On his kind