Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	let_v	life_n	soul_n	9,147	5	4.9888	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A08674	Ouids Tristia containinge fiue bookes of mournfull elegies which hee sweetly composed in the midst of his aduersitie, while hee liu'd in Tomos a cittie of Pontus where hee dyed after seauen yeares banishment from Rome. Translated into English by. W.S.; Tristia. English	Ovid, 43 B.C.-17 or 18 A.D.; Saltonstall, Wye, fl. 1630-1640.; Cecil, Thomas, fl. 1630, engraver.	1633 (1633)	STC 18979; ESTC S113811	45,161	96

thou my deerest wife Dost in my absence leade a mourning life Yet if the number of my yeares be done And that my hasty thred of life is spun You gods you might with ease have let me have Within my native land a happy grave If that you would have let my death prevent My fatall journey unto banishment Then had I dy'd in my integrity But now I here a banisht man must dye And shall I here resigne my weary breath The place makes me unhappy in my death Vpon my bed I shall not fall asleepe And none upon my coffin here shall weepe Nor shall my wives teares while that they do fall Vpon my face me unto life recall I shall not make my will nor with sad cryes No friendly hand shall close my dying eyes Without a Tombe or Funerall I shall be While as the barbarous earth doth cover me Which when thou hearst be not with griefe opprest Nor do not thou for sorrow beate thy brest Why shouldst thou wring thy tender hands in vaine Or call upon thy wretched husbands name Te●● not thy cheekes nor cut thy haire for mee For I am not good wife now tooke from thee When I was banisht then I dy'd alasse For banishment than death more heavy was Now I would have thee to rejoyce good wife Since all my griefe is ended with my life And beare thy sorrowes with a valiant heart Mishaps have taught thee how to play thy part And with my body may my soule expire That so no part may scape the greedy fire For if to Pythagoras we may credit give Who saith the soule eternally doth live My soule mongst the Sarmatick shades shall stray And to the cruell ghosts ne're find the way Yet let my ashes be put in an Vrne So being dead I shall againe returne This lawfull is the Theban being dead His loving sister saw him buried And let sweet powders round my bones be laid And so unto some secret place convai'd Graving these verses on a Marble stone In letters to be read by every one I Ovid that did write of wanton love Lye here my verse my overthrow did prove Thou that hast beene in love and passest by Pray still that Ovids bones may softly lye This Epitaph shall suffice since my bookes be A farre more lasting monument to me Which though they hurt me yet shall raise my name And give their Author everlasting fame Yet let thy love in funerall guifts be shew'd And bring sweete Garlands with thy teares be dew'd Those ashes which the funerall fire shall leave Will in their Vrne thy pious love perceive More would I write but that my voyce is spent Nor can my dry tongue speake what I invent Then take my last words to thee live in health Which though I send to thee I want my selfe Ovid doth his friend advise A life of greatnesse to despise Since thunder doth the hill assaile While quiet peace lives in the vale ELEGIE IIII. MY alwayes dearest friend but then most knowne When I by adverse fortune was orethrowne If thou wilt take the counsell of a friend Live to thy selfe doe not too high ascend Since thunder from the highest tower doth come Live to thy selffe and glittering titles shunne For though the beames of greatnesse may us warme Yet greatest men have greatest power to harme The naked sayle-yard feares no stormes at all And greatest Sayles more dangerous are than small The floting corke upon the waves doth swimme While heavy Lead doth sinke the Net therein Of these things had some friend admonisht me Perhaps I had beene still at Rome with thee While as a gentle wind did drive me on My boate through quiet streames did run along Hee that by chance doth fall upon the plaine He falleth so that he may rise againe But when Elpenor from a high house fell His ghost went downe to Pluto king of hell Though Dedalus his wings did him sustaine 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Icarus gave the sea his name Because that he flew high the other low While both of them their wings abroad did throw The man that unto sollitude is bent Doth live most happy if he be content Eumenes of his sonne was not deprived Vntill that he Achilles horses guided And Phaethon had not dyed in the flame If that his father could his will restraine Then feare thou still to take the higher way And in thy course draw in thy sayles I pray Thou worthy art to live most fortunate And to enjoy a candide happy fate Thy gentle love deserves these prayers of mine Since thou didst cleave to me in every time I saw how that thy griefe for me was showne Even in thy lookes most like unto my owne I saw thy teares which on my face did fall And with my teares I drunke thy words withall Now to thy absent friend thou yeeld'st releefe Thereby to lighten this my heavy greefe Live thou unenvy'd honour crowne thy end For thou art worthy of a noble friend And love thy Ovids name which cannot be Banisht though Scythis now containeth me For me a land neare to the Beare doth hold Whereas the earth is frozen up with cold Heere Bosphorus and Tanais doe remaine And places which have scarcely any name Vnhabitable cold doth dwell beyond For I am neare unto the farthest land My countrey and my wife are absent farre And with them two all things that dearest are Yet though with them I cannot present be Within my fancie I their shape doe see My house the City stand before my eyes And all my actions in their place do rise My wives deere Image doth it selfe present Which doth encrease and lighten discontent Her absence grieveth me but then againe My comfort is she constant doth remaine And you my friends do cleave unto my brest Whose names I wish by me might be exprest But wary feare doth my desire restraine And you I thinke do even wish the same For though that heretofore you pleased were When as your names did in my verse appeare Yet now I le talke with you within my brest Nor shall your feares by my verse be encreast Nor shall my verse disclose a secret friend Love secretly and love me to the end And know though we by absence be disjoynd Yet you are alwayes present in my mind Then strive to ease those griefes which I sustaine And lend your hand to helpe me up againe So may your fortune prosperous remaine And never have just cause to aske the same By a fained name he doth commend One C●rus that had beene his friend And then doth mittigate his fault 〈◊〉 error him to ruine brought ELEGIE V. MY use of friendship with thee was but small And if thou wilt thou maist say none at all But that thy love most faithfull I did finde When as my ship sayl'd with a prosperous winde When once I fell then all did shun my wracke And all my friends on me did turne their backe Yet thou when I was strooken with Ioves flame Didst

life doth freely give But if they more doe seeke then silent be And speake not that should not be read in thee Then the angrie reader will repeate my fault While by the people I am guilty thought Defend me not though they my fault repeat An ill cause by defence is made more great Some thou shalt finde will sigh 'cause I am gone And reade these verses with wet cheekes alone Who often wishes Caesar would but please Some lighter punishment might his wrath appease And I doe pray he may n'ere wretched be That wishes Caesar thus should pitty me But may his wishes come to passe that I At last may in my native countrey dye But booke I know thou shalt receive much blame And be thought inferior unto Ovids vaine Yet every judge the time and matter weighes The time considered thou deservest praise Smooth verses from a quiet minde doe flow My times are overcast with suddaine woe Verses require much leasure and sweet ease But I am tost by winds and angry Seas Verses were never made in feare while I Doe looke each minute by the sword to dye So that an equall judge may well approve These lines of mine and reade them with much love Had Homer beene distress'd so many wayes It would his sharpe discerning wit amaze Then booke be carelesse of all idle fame For to displease thy Reader is no shame Since fortune hath not so kind to me beene That thou theit idle praise shouldst so esteeme When I was happy I did covet fame And had a great desire to get a name But now both verse and study I doe hate Since they have brought me to this banisht state Yet goe my booke thee in my place I assigne And would to God I could not call thee mine Though as a stranger thou dost come to Rome Thou canst not to the people come unknowne Hadst thou no title yet thy sable hew If thou deny me will thy author shew Yet enter secretly least some doe disdaine My verse which is not now esteem'd by fame And if by chance some when they heare me nam'd Doe cast thee by out of their scornefull hand Tell them that I doe teach no rules of love That worke was long since punisht from above Perhaps thou dost imagine thou art sent To Caesars Court which is not my intent Aspire not thou unto those seates divine From whence the Thunder did on me decline Though once the Gods more favourable were Yet now their just deserved wrath I feare The fearefull Dove once strucke still after springs When she doth heare the Haukes large spreading wings And from the fold the Lambe dare never stray●● That from the Woolfe hath gotten once away Nor would young Phaethon desire 〈◊〉 His fathers steeds if he were now 〈◊〉 Since on my face the angry waves doe breake And now the southerne winds so cruell are They will not let the Gods even heare my prayer But coupling mischeefes with their rufling gales They take away my prayers and drive our sailes The waves like mountaines now are rowled on Which even seeme to touch the starrie throane And by and by deepe valleys doe appeare As if that hell it selfe dissolved were Nothing but ayre and water can I see And both of them doe seeme to threaten me Whiles divers winds their forces doe display The sea is doubtfull which he should obey For now the winde comes from the purple East And so againe it bloweth from the West Then Boreas flies out from the Northerne Waine While Southerne winds doe beate him backe againe Our Pilat knew not whether he should steare Art failes him lost in his amazed feare Perish we must all hope of life is past And while I speake the angry billowes slasht Into my face and with their waves did fill My mouth while I continued praying still I know my wife at home doth now lament And grieve to thinke upon my banishment Yet knowes shee not how I am tossed here And little thinkes the that I am so neare Vnto my death and were she heere with me My griefe for her a second death would be Now though I dye yet while that she is safe I shall survive in her my other halfe But now quick lightning breaketh through the Cloud And following Thunder roareth out aloud And now the waves upon the ship doe boate Like bullets and as one wave doth retreate Another comes that doth exceede the rest And thus their furie is by turnes exprest I feare not death yet I doe greeve that I Should here by shipwracke in this manner dye Happy is he whom sicknesse doth invade Whose body in the solid earth is laid And having made his will in his grave may rest Nor shall the fishes on his body feast And yet suppose my death deserved be Shall all the rest be punisht here for me O yee greene gods who doe the sea command Take off from us your heavy threatning hand And let me beare this wretched life of mine Vnto that place which Caesar did assigne If you desire with death to punish me My fault was jug'd not worthy death to be Had Caesar meant to take my life away He neede not use your helpe who all doth sway For if that he doe please my blood to spill My life is but a tenure at his will But you whom I did never yet offend Have pitty on me and to mercy bend For though you save me in this great distresse Yet you shall see my ruine ne're the lesse And if the winds and seas did favour me I should no lesse a banisht man still be I am not greedy riches to obtaine Nor doe I plough the sea in hope of gaine I goe not to Athens where I once have beene Or Asian townes which I have never seene Nor unto Alexandria doe I goe To see how Nilus seaven streames doe flow I wish a gentle wind which may so stand It was the deepest silence of the night And Luna in her chariot shined bright When looking on the Cappitols high frame Which joyned was unto our house in vaine You gods quoth I whom these faire seats enfold And temples which I ne're shall more behold And all yee gods of Rome whom I must leave These my last tenderd prayers to you receive Though wounded I the buckler use too late Le● exile ease me of the peoples hate Tell Caesar though I sinn'd by ignorance There was no wickednesse in my offence And as you know so let him know the same That so his wrath may be appeas'd againe With larger prayers my wife did then beseech The gods untill that sobs cut off her speech Then falling downe with flowing haire long spred Shee kist the harth whereon the fire lay dead And to our Penates pourd forth many a word Which for her husband now no helpe afford Now growing night did haste delay againe And Arctos now had turnd about her Waine And loath was I to leave my countrey sight Yet this for exile was my sentenc'd

with these And he that did commend to after fame His love disguised by Metellus name And he that sailed for the Fleece of gold His secret thefts of love doth oft unfold Hortensius too and Servius writ as bad who 'd thinke my fault so great examples had Sisenna Aristides workes translates And oft in wanton jests expatiates For praising Lycoris none doth Gallus blame If that hls tongue in wine he could containe Tibullus writes that womens oathes are wind Who can with outward shewes their husbands blind Teaching them how their keepers to beguile While he himselfe is cosen'd by that wile That he would take occasion for to try Her ring that he might touch her hand thereby By private tokens he would talke sometime And on the table draw a wanton signe Teaching what oyles that blewnesse shall expell Which by much kissing on their lips doth dwell And unto husbands does strickt rules commend If they be honest wives will not offend And when the dog doth barke to know before That 't is their Lover that stands at the doore And many notes of love-thefts he doth leave And teacheth wives their husbands to deceave Yet is Tibullus read and famous growne And unto thee great Caesar he was knowne And though Propertius did like precepts give Yet his cleere fame doth still unstained live To these did I succeede for I le suppresse Than where he brings him to Queene Dido's bed Yet in his youth he did commend faire Phillis And sports himselfe in praising Amorillis And though I formerly in that same vaine Offended yet I now do beare the blame I had writ verses when before thee I Amongst the other horsemen passed by And now my age doth even beare the blame Of those things which my younger yeeres did frame My faulty bookes are now reveng'd at last And I am punisht for a fault that 's past Yet all my workes are not so light and vaine Sometimes I lanch'd into the deeper maine And in six bookes Romes Holydayes have shew'd Where with the Month each Volumne doth conclude And to thy sacred name did dedicate That worke though left unperfect by my fate Besides I stately Tragedies have writ And with high words the Tragicke stile did fit Besides of changed shapes my Muse did chant Though they my last life-giving hand did want And would thy anger were but so appeas'd As that to reade my verse thou wouldst be pleas'd My verse where from the infant birth of things My Muse her worke unto thy owne time brings Thou shouldst behold the strength of every line Wherein I strive to praise both thee and thine Nor are my verses mingled so with gall As that my lines should be Satyricall Amongst the vulgar people none yet found Themselves once toucht my Muse my selfe doth wound Therefore each generous mind I do beleeve Will not rejoyce but at my ill fate grieve No● yet will triumph o're my wretched state Who ne're was proud even in my better fate O therefore let these reasons change thy minde That in distresse I may thy favour finde Not to returne though that perhaps may be When thou in time at last maist pardon me But I intreat thee to remove me hence To safer exile fitting my offence LIB III. The Booke doth to the Reader shew That he is loath to come to view And tells how he was entertaind By some while others him disdaind I Am that Booke who fearefully doe come Even from a banisht man to visit Rome And comming weary from a forraigne land Good Reader let me rest within thy hand Doe not thou feare or be asham'd of me Since no love verses in this paper be My master now by fortune is opprest It is no time for him to write in jest Though in his youth he had a wanton vaine Yet now he doth condemne that worke againe Behold here 's nothing but sad mourning lines So that my verse agreeth with his times And that my second verse is lame in strength Short feet do cause it or the journeys length Nor are my rough leaves cover'd o're with yellow For I my Authors fortune meane to follow In Swan-like Tunes he doth deplore His exile and knocks at the dore Of Death desiring hasty fate His wretched life would terminate ELEGIE II. WAs it my fate that I should Scythia see And the land whose Zenith is the Axeltree And would not you sweet Muses nor Apollo Helpe me who did your holy rites still follow Could not my harmelesse verses me excuse And life more serious than my jesting Muse But that I must when I the seas had past Vnto the Ponticke land be brought at last And I that still my selfe from care withdrew Loving soft ease and no rough labour knew Having past great dangers both by sea and land Here worst of miseries is by me sustain'd Yet I endure these evils for I find My body doth receive strength from my mind And in my passage to my sad exile I with my study did my cares beguise But when I did my journeys end attaine And that unto the hated shore I came Then from mine eyes a showre of teares did flow Like water running from the melted snow And then my house and Rome comes in my mind And every thing that I had left behind A ●●tle that I should knocke still at the Grave To be let in yet can no entrance have Why have I still escaped from the sword Could not the Sea to me a death afford You gods who constant are in your just ire And doe with Caesar in revenge conspire I do beseech you hasten on my fate And bid death open unto me the gate He lets his wife here understand Of his sicknesse in a forraine land Then writes his Epitaph with intent To make his bookes his monument ELEGIE III. THat this my Letter by a strangers hand Is writ the cause my sicknesse understand For in the worlds farthest part I lye Sicke and uncertaine of recovery What comfort can within that climate shine On which the Getes and Sauramats confine My nature does not with the soyle agree The ayre and water do seeme strange to me My shelter poore my dyet here is bad No health-restoring Physicke can be had No friend to comfort me who will assay With some discourse to passe the time away But here upon my bed of sicknesse cast I thinke of many things which now are past And thou my dearest wife above the rest Dost hold the chiefest place within my brest Thy absent name is mentioned still by me And every day and night I thinke on thee Sometimes I speake things without sence or wit That I may name thee in my franticke fit If I should swound and that no heating wine Could give life to this faultring tongue of mine To heare of thy approach would make me live Thy very presence would new vigor give Thus I most doubtfull of my life am growne But thou perhaps livst merrily at home No I dare say that