Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	life_n	live_v	world_n	13,510	5	4.9137	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A33429	The character of a London-diurnall with severall select poems / by the same author.	Cleveland, John, 1613-1658.	1647 (1647)	Wing C4666; ESTC R6762	26,937	62

loath'd name be A stigmatizing brand of Infamie Till forc'd by generall hate you cease to rome The world and for a plague go live at home Till you resume your poverty and be Reduc'd to beg where none can be so free To grant and may your scabbie Land be all Translated to a generall Hospitall Let not the Sun afford one gentle Ray To give you comfort of a Summers day But as a Guerdon for your traiterous War Live cherisht onely by the Northern Star No Stranger deign to visit your rude Coast And be to all but banisht Men as lost And such in height'ning of th' infliction due Let provok'd Princes send them all to you Your State a Chaos be where not the Law But Power your Lives and Liberties may awe No Subject mongst you keep a quiet brest But each man strive through blood to be the best Till for those miseries on us you 've brought By your own sword our just revenge be wrought To summe up all let your Religion be As your Allegiance mask'd hypocrisie Untill when CHARLES shall be compos'd in dust Persum'd with epithetes of GOOD and IUST HE sav'd incensed Heaven may have forgot T' afford one act of mercy to a Scot Unlesse that Scot deny himselfe and do What 's easier farre renounce his Nation too Epitaph on the Earl of Strafford HEre lies Wise and Valiant Dust Huddled up 'twixt Fit and Just STRAFFORD who was hurried hence 'Twixt Treason and Convenience He spent his Time here in a Mist A Papist yet a Ca●vinist His Prince's nearest Joy and Grief He had yet wanted all Reliefe The Prop and Ruine of the State The People's violent Love and Hate One in extreames lov'd and abhor'd Riddles lie here or in a word Here lies Blood and let it lie Speechlesse still and never crie On the Archbishop of Canterbury I Need no Muse to give my passion vent He brewes his teares that studies to lament Verse chymically weeps that pious raine Distill'd with Art is but the sweat o' th braine Who ever sob'd in numbers can a groane Be quaver'd out by soft division 'T is true for common formall Elegies Not Bushells Wells can wash a Poets eyes In wanton water-works hee 'l tune his teares From a Geneva Jig up to the Spheares But when he mournes at distance weeps aloof Now that the Conduit-head is our own roof Now that the fate is publike we may call It Britains Vespers Englands Funerall Who hath a Pensill to expresse the Saint But he hath eyes too washing off the paint There is no learning but what teares surround Like to Seths Pillars in the deluge drown'd There is no Church Religion is growne From much of late that she 's increast to none Like an hydropick body full of Rheumes First swells into a bubble then consumes The Law is dead or cast into a trance And by a Law dough-bak'd and Ordinance The Liturgie whose doom was voted next Died as a Comment upon him the Text There 's nothing lives life is since he is gone But a Nocturnall Lucubration Thus you have seen deaths inventory read In the sum to●all Canterburie's dead A sight would make a Pagan to baptize Himselfe a Convert in his bleeding eyes Would thaw the rabble that fierce beast of ours That which Hyaena-like weeps and devoures Tears that ●low brackish from their soules within Not to repent but pickle up their sin Meane time no squallid griefe his looke defiles He guilds his sadder fate with noble smiles Thus the worlds eye with reconciled streames Shines in his showers as if he wept his beames How could successe such villanies applaud The S●ate in Strafford fell the Church in Laud The twins of publike rage adjudg'd to dye For Treasons they should act by Prophecy The f●cts were done before the Lawes were made The trump turn'd up after the game was plai'd Be dull g●eat spirits and forbeare to climbe For worth is sin and eminence a crime No Church-man can be innocent and high 'T is height makes Gran●ham steeple stand awry On I. VV. A. B. of York SAy my young Sophister what think'st of this Chimae●ra's reall Ergo falleris The Lambe and Tyger Fox and Goose agree And here concorp'rate in one Prodigie C●ll an Ha●uspex quickly let him get S●lphur and ●orches and a Lawrell wet To P●●●fie the place for sure the Harmes This Monster will produce transcend his Charmes 'T is Na●ures Master-piece of error this and redeems whatever she did amisse B●fore from wonder and reproach this last Le●i●imateth all her by-blowes past Loe here a Generall Metropolitan An Arch-Prelat●que Presbyterian Behold his pious Garbs Canonique Face A z●alous Episcopo-mastix Grace A fa●●e blew-apron'd Priest a Lawn-sleev'd Brother One leg a Pulpu holds a Tub the other Let 's give him a fit name now if we can And make th' apostate once more Christian Protaeus we cannot call him he put on His change of shapes by a succession Nor the Welch Weather-cock for that we find At once doth only wait upon the wind These speake him not but if you 'l name him right Call him Religions He●maphrodite His head i' th sanctified mould is cast Yet sticks th' abominable Miter fast He still retaines the Lordship and the Grace And yet has got a reverend Elders place Such acts must needs be his who did devise By crying Altars downe to sacrifice To private malice where you might have seen His conscience holocausted to his spleen Unhappy Church the Viper that did share Thy greatest honours helps to make thee bare And void of all thy Dignities and store Alas thy own Son proves the Forrest-boare And like the Dam-destroying Cuckow he When the thick-shell of his Welsh Pedigree By thy warme fost'ring bounty did divide And open straight thence sprung forth parricide As if 't was just revenge should be dispacht In thee by th' Monster which thy selfe hadst hatcht Despaire not though in Wales there may be got As well as Lincolnshire an antidote 'Gainst the foul'st venome he can spit though 's head Were chang'd from subtle gray to poys'nous red Heaven with propitious eyes will looke upon Our party now the cursed thing is gone And chastise Rebells who nought else did miss To fill the measure of their sins but his Whose foule unparallel'd apostasie Like to his sacred character shall be Indelible when ages then of late More happy growne with most impartiall fate A period to his dayes and time shall give He by such Epitaphs as this shall live Hee Yorks great Metropolitan is laid Who Gods Annointed and his Church betraid THE END * 〈…〉 * 〈◊〉

disturbance till they swallow me As a description of his miserie But can his spacious vertues finde a grave Within th' impostu●'d bubble of a wave Whose learning if we sound we must confesse The Sea but shallow and him bottomlesse Could not the winds to countermand thy death W●● their whole Chard of lungs redeem thy breath Or some new Island in thy rescue peepe To heave thy resurrection from the deep That so the world might see thy safety wrought With no lesse miracle then thy selfe Most thought The famous Stagyrite which in his life Had Nature as familiar as his wife Bequeath'd his widdow to survive with thee Queene-Dowager of all Philosophie An ominous legacy that did portend Thy fat● and predcessors second end Some have affi●m'd that what on earth we finde The Sea can parallell for shape and kinde Books A●ts and 〈◊〉 were wanting but in thee Neptune hath got an Universitie Wee 'l dive no more for pearle we hope to see Thy sacred reliques of mortalitie Wee 'l welcome storms and make the Sea-man prize His shipwrack now more then his merchandize He shall embrace the w●ves and to ●y tombe As to a royaller Exchange shall come What can we now expect Water and Fire Both Elements of ruine do conspire And that resolves us which doth us compound One Vatican was barnt another dr●wn'd VVe of the Gowne ou● L●braries must tosse To understand the great 〈◊〉 of our losse Be pupills to our griefe and so much grow In learning as our sorrow●s overfl●w VVhen we have● fill'd t●e R●●d●ets of our eyes VVee 'l send it forth and ven● such ●●egies So that our teares shall 〈…〉 VVe floating Islands living 〈◊〉 A Dialogue between two Zealots upon the c. in the Oath SIr Roger from a zealous piece of Freeze Rais'd to a Vicar of the Childrens threes Whose yearly Audit may by strict accompt To twenty Nobles and his Vailes amount Fed on the Common of the femal charity Untill the Scots can bring about their parity So shotten that his soul like to himselfe Walks but in Querpo This same Clergie Elfe Encount'ring with a Brother of the Cloth Fell presently to Cudglels with the Oath The Quarrel was a strange mis-shapen Monster c. God blesse us which they conster The Brand upon the buttock of the Beast The Dragons taile ti'd on a knot a neast Of young Apocryphaes the fashion Of a new mentall Reservation While Roger thus divides the Text the other Winks and expounds saying my pious Brother Hearken with reverence for the point is nice I never read on 't but I fasted twice And so by Revelation know it better Then all the learn'd Idolaters o' th Letter With that he swell'd and fell upon the Theame Like Great Goliah with his Weavers beame I say to thee c. thou li'st Thou art the curled locke of Antichrist Rubbish of Babell for who will not say Tongues were confounded in c. Who sweares c. sweares more oathes at once Then Cerberus out of his Triple Sconce Who viewes it well with the same eye beholds The old halfe Serpent in his numerous foulds Accurst c. thou for now I scent What lately the prodigious Oysters meant Oh Booker Booker how cam'st thou to lack This sign in thy Prophetick Almanack It 's the dark Vault wherein th' infernall plot Of powder 'gainst the State was first begot Per●●e the Oath and you shall soon descry it By all the Father Garnets that stand by it Gainst whom the Church whereof I am a Member Shall keep another fifth day of November Yet here 's not all I cannot halfe untruss c. it 's so abominous The Trojan Nag was not so fully lin'd Unrip c. and you shall finde Og the great Commissary and which is worse Th' Apparatour upon his skew-bald Horse Then finally my Babe of Grace forbeare c. will be too farre to sweare For 't is to speake i● a familiar stile A Yorkshire Wea-bit longer then a mile Then Roger was inspir'd and by Gods-diggers Hee 'l sweare in words at large and not in figures Now by this drink which he takes off as loth To leave c. in his liquid Oath His brother pledg'd him and that bloody wine He swea●s shall ●eale the Synods Cataline So they drunke on not offering to part Till they had quite sworne out th' eleventh quart While all t●at saw and heard them joyntly pray 〈…〉 ●ribe were all c. Smectymnuus or the Club-Divines SMectymnuus The Goblin makes me start I' th' Name of Rabbi Abraham what art 〈◊〉 or ●rabick or Welsh what skilt Ap all the Bricklayers that Babell built ●ome Conjurer translate and let me know it 'Till then 't is fit for a West-Saxon Poet But doe the Brother-hood then play their prizes Like Mummers in Religion with disguises Out-brave us with a name in Rank and File A Name which if 't were train'd would spread a mile The Saints Monopolie the zealous Cluster Which like a Porcupine presents a Muster And shoots his quills at Bishops and their Sees A devout litter of young Maccabees Thus Jack-of-all-trades hath devoutly showne The twelve Apostles on a Cherry-stone Thus Faction 's All-a-Mode in Treasons fashion Now we have Heresie by Complication Like to Don-Quixots Rosary of Slaves Strung on a chaine A Murnivall of Knaves Packt in a Trick like Gypsies when they ride Or like Colleagues which sit all of a side So the vaine Satyrists stand all a row As hollow teeth upon a Lute-string show Th' Italian Monster pregnent with his Brother Natures Diaeresis halfe one another He with his little Sides-man Lazarus Must both give way unto Smectym●uus Next 〈…〉 is Smec's for loe his side Into a ●ive-fold Lazar's multipli'd Under each a●me there 's tuckt a double Gizzard Five faces lu●ke under one single vizzard The Whore of Babylon left these brats behind Heires of Confusion by Gavell-kind I think Pythagoras's soule is rambl'd hither With all the change of Rayment on together Sm●c is her generall Wardrobe shee 'l not dare To think of them as of a thorough-fare He stops the Gossopping Dame alone he is The Purlew of a Metempsuchosis Like a Scotch Marke where the more modest sense Checks the loud phrase shrinks to thirteen pence Like to an Ignis fatuus whose flame Though sometimes tripartite joynes in the same Like to nine Taylors who if rightly spelled Into one man are monosyllabled Short-handed zeale in one hath cramped many Like to the Decalogue in a single penny See see how close the Curs hunt under a sheet As if they sp●nt in Quire and scan'd their feet One Cure and five Incumbents leap a Truss The title sure must be litigious The Sadduces would raise a question Who must be Smec at th' Resurrection Who cook'd them up together were to blame Had they but w●re-drawn and spun out their name 'T would make another Prencices Petition Against the Bishops and their Superstition Robson and French that