Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	know_v	life_n	love_v	8,582	5	6.6638	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A12045	Venus and Adonis	Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616.	1593 (1593)	STC 22354; ESTC S102412	19,633	54

thicke taile broad buttock tender hide Looke what a Horse should haue he did not lack Saue a proud rider on so proud a back Sometime he scuds farre off and there he stares Anon he starts at sturring of a feather To bid the wind a base he now prepares And where he runne or flie they know not whether For through his mane taile the high wind sings Fanning the haires who waue like feathred wings He lookes vpon his loue and neighes vnto her She answers him as if she knew his minde Being proud as females are to see him woo her She puts on outward strangenesse seemes vnkinde Spurnes at his loue and scorns the heat he feeles Beating his kind imbracements with her heeles Then like a melancholy malcontent He vailes his taile that like a falling plume Coole shadow to his melting buttocke lent He stamps and bites the poore flies in his fume His loue perceiuing how he was inrag'd Grew kinder and his furie was asswag'd His testie maister goeth about to take him VVhen lo the vnbackt breeder full of feare Iealous of catching swiftly doth forsake him VVith her the Horse and left Adonis there As they were mad vnto the wood they hie them Out stripping crowes that striue to ouerfly them All swolne with chafing downe Adonis sits Banning his boystrous and vnruly beast And now the happie season once more sits That louesicke loue by pleading may be blest For louers say the heart hath treble wrong VVhen it is bard the aydance of the tongue An Ouen that is stopt or riuer stayd Burneth more hotly swelleth with more rage So of concealed sorow may be sayd Free vent of words loues fier doth asswage But when the hearts atturney once is mute The client breakes as desperat in his sute He sees her comming and begins to glow Euen as a dying coale reuiues with winde And with his bonnet hides his angrie brow Lookes on the dull earth with disturbed minde Taking no notice that she is so nye For all askance he holds her in his eye O what a sight it was wistly to view How she came stealing to the wayward boy To note the fighting conflict of her hew How white and red ech other did destroy But now her cheeke was pale and by and by It flasht forth fire as lightning from the skie Now was she iust before him as he sat And like a lowly louer downe she kneeles VVith one faire hand she heaueth vp his hat Her other tender hand his faire cheeke feeles His tendrer cheeke receiues her soft hands print As apt as new falne snow takes any dint Oh what a war of lookes was then betweene them Her eyes petitioners to his eyes suing His eyes saw her eyes as they had not seene them Her eyes wooed still his eyes disdaind the wooing And all this dumbe play had his acts made plain VVith tears which Chorus-like her eyes did rain Full gently now she takes him by the hand A lillie prisond in a gaile of snow Or Iuorie in an allablaster band So white a friend ingirts so white a fo This beautious combat wilfull and vnwilling Showed like two siluer doues that sit a billing Once more the engin of her thoughts began O fairest mouer on this mortall round VVould thou wert as I am and I a man My heart all whole as thine thy heart my wound For one sweet looke thy helpe I would assure thee Thogh nothing but my bodies bane wold cure thee Giue me my hand saith he why dost thou feele it Giue me my heart saith she and thou shalt haue it O giue it me lest thy hard heart do steele it And being steeld soft sighes can neuer graue it Then loues deepe grones I neuer shall regard Because Adonis heart hath made mine hard For shame he cries let go and let me go My dayes delight is past my horse is gone And t is your fault I am bereft him so I pray you hence and leaue me here alone For all my mind my thought my busie care Is how to get my palfrey from the mare Thus she replies thy palfrey as he should VVelcomes the warme approch of sweet desire Affection is a coale that must be coold Else sufferd it will set the heart on fire The sea hath bounds but deepe desire hath none Therfore no maruell though thy horse be gone How like a iade he stood tied to the tree Seruilly maisterd with a leatherne raine But when he saw his loue his youths faire fee He held such pettie bondage in disdaine Throwing the base thong from his bending crest Enfranchising his mouth his backe his brest VVho sees his true-loue in her naked bed Teaching the sheets a whiter hew then white But when his glutton eye so full hath fed His other agents ayme at like delight VVho is so faint that dares not be so bold To touch the fier the weather being cold Let me excuse thy courser gentle boy And learne of him I heartily beseech thee To take aduantage on presented ioy Though I were dūbe yet his proceedings teach thee O learne to loue the lesson is put plaine And once made perfect neuer lost againe I knowe not loue quote he nor will not know it Vnlesse it be a Boare and then I chase it T is much to borrow and I will not owe it My loue to loue is loue but to disgrace it For I haue heard it is a life in death That laughs and weeps and all but with a breath VVho weares a garment shapelesse and vnfinisht VVho plucks the bud before one leafe put forth If springing things be anie iot diminisht They wither in their prime proue nothing worth The colt that 's backt and burthend being yong Loseth his pride and neuer waxeth strong You hurt my hand with wringing let vs part And leaue this idle theame this bootlesse chat Remoue your siege from my vnyeelding hart To loues allarmes it will not ope the gate Dismisse your vows your fained tears your flattry For where a heart is hard they make no battry VVhat canst thou talke quoth she hast thou a tong O would thou hadst not or I had no hearing Thy marmaides voice hath done me double wrong I had my lode before now prest with bearing Mellodious discord heauenly tune harsh sounding Eares deep sweet musik harts deep sore woūding Had I no eyes but eares my eares would loue That inward beautie and inuisible Or were I deafe thy outward parts would moue Ech part in me that were but sensible Though neither eyes nor eares to heare nor see Yet should I be in loue by touching thee Say that the sence of feeling were bereft me And that I could not see nor heare nor touch And nothing but the verie smell were left me Yet would my loue to thee be still as much For frō the stillitorie of thy face excelling Coms breath perfumd that breedeth loue by smelling But oh what banquet wert thou to the tast Being nourse and feeder of the

not dead Her voice is stopt her ioynts forget to bow Her eyes are mad that they haue wept till now Vpon his hurt she lookes so stedfastly That her sight dazling makes the wound seem three And then she reprehends her mangling eye That makes more gashes where no breach shuld be His face seems twain ech seuerall lim is doubled For oft the eye mistakes the brain being troubled My tongue cannot expresse my griefe for one And yet quoth she behold two Adons dead My sighes are blowne away my salt teares gone Mine eyes are turn'd to fire my heart to lead Heauie hearts lead melt at mine eyes red fire So shall I die by drops of hot desire Alas poore world what treasure hast thou lost VVhat face remains aliue that 's worth the viewing VVhose tongue is musick now what cāst thou boast Of things long since or any thing insuing The flowers are sweet their colours fresh and trim But true sweet beautie liu'd and di'de with him Bonnet nor vaile henceforth no creature weare Nor sunne nor wind will euer striue to kisse you Hauing no faire to lose you need not feare The sun doth skorne you the wind doth hisse you But when Adnois liu'de sunne and sharpe aire Lurkt like two theeues to rob him of his faire And therefore would he put his bonnet on Vnder whose brim the gaudie sunne would peepe The wind would blow it off and being gon Play with his locks then would Adonis weepe And straight in pittie of his tender yeares They both would striue who first should drie his teares To see his face the Lion walkt along Behind some hedge because he would not fear him To recreate himself when he hath song The Tygre would be tame and gently heare him If he had spoke the wolfe would leaue his praie And neuer fright the sillie lambe that daie VVhen he beheld his shadow in the brooke The fishes spread on it their golden gils VVhen he was by the birds such pleasure tooke That some would sing some other in their bils VVould bring him mulberries ripe-red cherries He fed them with his sight they him with berries But this foule grim and vrchin-snowted Boare VVhose downeward eye still looketh for a graue Ne're saw the beautious liuerie that he wore VVitnesse the intertainment that he gaue If he did see his face why then I know He thought to kisse him and hath kild him so T is true t is true thus was Adnois slaine He ran vpon the Boare with his sharpe speare VVho did not whet his teeth at him againe But by a kisse thought to persuade him there And nousling in his flanke the louing swine Sheath'd vnaware the tuske in his soft groine Had I bin tooth'd like him I must confesse VVith kissing him I should haue kild him first But he is dead and neuer did he blesse My youth with his the more am I accurst VVith this she falleth in the place she stood And staines her faice with his congealed bloud She lookes vpon his lips and they are pale She takes him by the hand and that is cold She whispers in his eares a heauie tale As if they heard the wofull words she told She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes VVhere lo two lamps burnt out in darknesse lies Two glasses where her selfe her selfe beheld A thousand times and now no more reflect Their vertue lost wherein they late exceld And euerie beautie robd of his effect VVonder of time quoth she this is my spight That thou being dead the day shuld yet be light Since thou art dead lo here I prophecie Sorrow on loue hereafter shall attend It shall be wayted on with iealousie Find sweet beginning but vnsauorie end Nere setled equally but high or lo That all loues pleasure shall not match his wo. It shall be fickle false and full of fraud Bud and be blasted in a breathing while The bottome poyson and the top ore-strawd VVith sweets that shall the truest sight beguile The strongest bodie shall it make most weake Strike the wise dūbe teach the foole to speake It shall be sparing and too full of ryot Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures The staring ruffian shall it keepe in quiet Pluck down the rich inrich the poore with treasures It shall be raging mad and sillie milde Make the yoong old the old become a childe It shall suspect where is no cause of feare It shall not feare where it should most mistrust It shall be mercifull and too seueare And most deceiuing when it seemes most iust Peruerse it shall be where it showes most toward Put feare to valour courage to the coward It shall be cause of warre and dire euents And set dissention twixt the sonne and sire Subiect and seruill to all discontents As drie combustious matter is to fire Sith in his prime death doth my loue destroy They that loue best their loues shall not enioy By this the boy that by her side laie kild VVas melted like a vapour from her sight And in his blood that on the ground laie spild A purple floure sproong vp checkred with white Resembling well his pale cheekes and the blood VVhich in round drops vpō their whitenesse stood She bowes her head the new-sprong floure to smel Comparing it to her Adonis breath And saies within her bosome it shall dwell Since he himselfe is reft from her by death She crop's the stalke and in the breach appeares Green-dropping sap which she cōpares to teares Poore floure quoth she this was thy fathers guise Sweet issue of a more sweet smelling sire For euerie little griefe to wet his eies To grow vnto himselfe was his desire And so t is thine but know it is as good To wither in my brest as in his blood Here was thy fathers bed here in my brest Thou art the next of blood and t is thy right Lo in this hollow cradle take thy rest My throbbing hart shall rock thee day and night There shall not be one minute in an houre VVherein I wil not kisse my sweet loues floure Thus weary of the world away she hies And yokes her siluer doues by whose swift aide Their mistresse mounted through the emptie skies In her light chariot quickly is conuaide Holding their course to Paphos where their queen Meanes to immure her selfe and not be seen FINIS