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 power_n soul_n 8,115 5 4.8720 4 true
View all documents for the selected quad

Text snippets containing the quad

ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A42504 Al-Man-Sir, or, Rhodomontados of the most horrible terrible and invincible Captain Sr. Fredrick Fight-all English and French. Gaultier, Jacques. 1672 (1672) Wing G381; ESTC R37393 24,356 110

There is 1 snippet containing the selected quad. | View lemmatised text

and outvy'd Wonder Astonisht Ages from these deeds shall learn Which way I move that way the World shall turn If y' are with this not satisfied enough I 'le of my Valour give you urcher p●oof I by an Host surrounded was in fi l● Whose Gen'ral cry'd fight not st●ut man but yeild I daunted not rusht in and with one swing Before my Feet I laid his breathless King At which a Neighb'ring Prince his quarrel took From his broad Shoulders his proud head I struck So quick the head after it fell it curst The next advanc'd whose Fate was like the first Him I beheaded so most vig'rously That with the force his falli●g head kill'd three Then being beset with an united pow'r With my long Sword n●xt pass I thrust through four VVith Carkasses I made long Lanes and to be short In one hours space I made this bloody sport Here scatter'd Swords there Woods of Lances stood Here heaps of bodies lay there streams of blood With open mouth there lay a gasping head As if it thirsted for the blood it shed Here a lopt head cut capers as if ' twoud Have danc't up to the Shoulders where it stood There lay dismembred arms in their own gore Which stretcht and graspt to reach the Swords they bore The object look'd as if it had exprest A thousand Victims offer'd by a Priest VVhen I 'de done all and heaps on heaps compil'd I fairly turn'd about my self and smil'd How ill these mortals manag'd their command Although all Hero's nothing in my hand Thus I do never stoop to little things I seldome vanquish any under Kings VVhen none can kill me I my self must doom And call upon the Gods to make me room Thus when I please I mortal blood can spill Yet know that I can cure as well as kill Dismembred Trunks which welter in their gore That hand them lopt can them again restore Quack Aesculapius of Cures may boast And in that thing a very Knight o' th Post Conf●st He did some petty things what then But I of mortals make immortal men Did He now live He might imboldned be By his great skill as to compare with me But I de convince the Slave ●is only I Have pow'r to guide a Monarchs Destiny Such proud Quack salvers must not be indur'd Who never saw the wounds which I have cur'd My hand the rule of humane Fate hath swai'd Cur'd wounds as mortal as my Sword hath made My hand mens tott'ring Fabricks can er●ct And be the lesser worlds great Architect I with my Sword have often digg'd a grave And from its fatal brink as oft did save Al-Man-Sirs Art hath Natures pow'r withstood The old let out I have infus'd new blood Nay when mens looks do wear more horrid forms Then the Grimaces of a Sea in Storms I have made horrour pains and torture cease 'Twixt Death and sickly man I 've made a peace Decrepit Nature bedrid at my sight Hath rows'd and rose and walk't and stood upright My pow'r hath made declining lives stand fixt And with new Heat hath Cooling Vitals mixt Nay more when Death hath his bold entrance stole And given defiance to a strugling Soul I 've made fierce Death look pale at my approach And trembling not dare strike where I dare touch 'T is no great thing to do if true that all The pow'rs of art within my circuit fall So that o're mortal men I have this odds Cure wounds not only made by man but Gods In short my art such wonders did afford I have lost a ms eyes heads nay lives resto●'d These and ten thousand such I 've done all true Yet have not spoken half what I can do I Now exp●ct that some cowardly Curs w●ll bark at these my unparalel'd and se●mingly i●credible acts such whose valour lyes in their tongues not hands by o hers who dare not kill otherwise than with Pen Ink and Paper Let these boasting Mounte banks first resolve me these Questions or they are not like to live in our thou●hts 1. Why one poor Platonick Idea fluttering upon the O●●fice of the Chaos should chac● or drive away the invincible Squadrons of Democratical Atoms 2. Why that one man should be like the Sun wrapt in a tear of Snow and another to bloom like a Northern blast gu lt o're with Thunder 3. And lastly Why your warbling Saty● clad in dew whose Zodiack toils in pa●ched steel cleft like a living Cloud Loves arrow-field should confront a Sable Emerauld asunder To those impudent Mi●midons who dare compare with me I shall propose them this task to perform without which they share in no part of our estimation WIth a small switch the Sea divide And with one whistle stop the Tide Ketch the wild Winds within thy fist And let them blow but when thou list Or creep to Neptunes watry bed And force a Mermaids Maiden-head Then soar more high and fetch me down Fair Ariadny's Starry Crown Or bring me Berenices Hair A Perriwigg for me to wear Make Mars and Saturns aspects mild And get the Virgin Star with Child Go Ring the snout of the North Bear Then sit in Casseopeia's Chair Or if thou hast that daring Soul Go whip the Bear about the Pole If thou canst do all these I can't deny But thou in time may be as stout as I. FINIS