Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	strong_a	youth_n	youthful_a	17	3	10.3674	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A20853	The tragicall legend of Robert, Duke of Normandy, surnamed Short-thigh, eldest sonne to William Conqueror. VVith the legend of Matilda the chast, daughter to the Lord Robert Fitzwater, poysoned by King Iohn. And the legend of Piers Gaueston, the great Earle of Cornwall: and mighty fauorite of king Edward the second. By Michaell Drayton. The latter two, by him newly corrected and augmented	Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.; Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. Matilda.; Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. Peirs Gaveston Earle of Cornwall.	1596 (1596)	STC 7232; ESTC S116748	75,207	228

soonest pry Whose nature thus I chose to be the mould Therein to worke what forme of hap I would 98 His owne compassion cause of his owne care Vpon his thought his constant promise stood Vertue in him most naturally rare No vile base humor tainted his pure blood His bounty still gaue good desert her food His mind so great and honorably free Made him too prone to loose credulitie 99 His counsels thus are combred by his care In nothing certaine bnt vncertaintie His friends resolu'd on nothing but dispaire Yet shewes he greatnes in most misery Each place become a stage for Tragedy By error wandring far beyond his scope Strong in desire but weakest in his hope 100 In publique shame oft counsell seemes disgrac'd No priuiledge can from the Fates protect In desperation counsell hath no taste Vntamed rage doth all aduise reiect Hiding the course which reason should direct Making himselfe the author of his harms VVithout experience valor wants his arms 101 Now I whose power in Williams wars was seene VVhen first on Williams conquest he begun To shew my selfe the worlds imperious Queene Now turne my selfe against his warlike son To lose by me by me his Father won On Englands part gainst Normandy to stand Which Normandy had conquered by my hand 102 The conquest William made vpon this Ile VVith Norman blood be-peopling Brittany Euen now as Brittons made within a while Turne with reuenge to conquer Normandy Thus victory goes back to victory That his own blood wins what before he won His conquering son subdu'd his conquering son 103 Thus Norman townes begirt with English arms The furious brother dealing wrathfull blowes Both pressing in where deadly perrill swarms These English-Norman Norman-English foes At last doe get what they at first did lose As Normandy did Englands fall prouoke Now Norman necks must beare the English yoke 104 The flood of mischiefe thus comes in againe VVhat Fortune works not alwaies seems pretéded The wind thus turn'd blows back the fire amaine VVhere first mischance began she will be ended And he defend him from those he offended For this we find the course of fatall things Is best discern'd in states of Realms Kings 105 On whom of late in Palaestine I smild In ciuill warrs now dreadfully I frowne He call'd from exile I from him exil'd To leaue his crowne who had refus'd a crowne Who beat all down now heare is beaten down Here to lose all who there had gotten all To make his fall more grieuous in his fall 106 To England now a prisoner they him bring Now is he hers which claim'd her for his owne A Captiue where he should haue been a King His dūgeon made wher shold haue been his throne Now buried there wheras he shold haue growne In one poore tower mew'd vp within one place Whose Empires bounds the Ocean shold embrace 107 Could mortall sence containe immortall hate Or reason sound the depth of things diuine Iudgement might stand amaz'd at Roberts state And thinke no might to be compar'd with mine That all power may vnto my power resigne And that in Roberts fall the world may see Amongst the starrs what power remaines in mee 108 That sword which on his fortune hath such power Yet powerles is to end his wretched dayes Those daies w c in their course all things deuoure To his swift griefe makes slow and lazie staies To Tyrannies long raigne he thus obaies That he in life a thousand deaths might die Onely in mercy rackt with crueltie 109 He hath no ioy but in his miseries His greatest comfort is the blessed light For which as I were angry with his eyes I make the King depriue him of his sight To sute his daies so iustly with the night That sencles stones to mone he should not see Yet sencles stones behold his misery 120 And this he felt that Fortune made him blinde Least his eyes obiects yet might lighten care That y e light wanting more might light his minde VVhose eyes might see how great his sorrows are That euery sence that sences woe might share And so that sence depriu'd of ioy alone Might more increase the griefe of euery one 111 These griefes and horrors enemies of rest VVhich murther life where they do harbor long Kill humors which his body oft opprest Vnnaturally thus making nature strong As out of deaths dead stock new life still sprong As life with death had tempted him till now Yet death to life no ease would er'e allow 112 Death he fear'd not is taught his end to feare Life once he lou'd with him now fall'n in loue That foe a friend to hurt him doth forbeare That friend a foe he cannot now remoue Twixt them he all extremities doth proue Aged in youth to pine his ioy thereby Youthfull in age to suffer misery 113 Courage forbids that he himselfe should kill His life too proud to be constrain'd to die His will permits not death now when he will VVhat would dispaire true valor doth deny Thus life's life foe death is deaths enemy VVilling to die by life him double killing Vrging to die twice dying he vnwilling 114 So many yeeres as he hath worne a crowne So many yeeres as he hath hop'd to rise So many yeeres he liues thus quite thrown downe So many yeeres he liues without his eyes So many yeeres in dying ere hee dyes So many yeeres lockt vp in prison strong Though sorrow make the shortest time seeme long 115 Thus sway I in the course of earthly things That Time might worke him euerlasting spite To shew that power yet euer makes not kings Nor that conceit can compasse my deceit In fined things such meruails infinite Nor any wonder is to be supposed In that wherein all wonders are inclosed 116 AT Fortuns speech they stand as all amaz'd Whilst Fame herselfe doth wonder at his woe And all vpon this deadly Image gaz'd VVhose misery shee had discribed so But in reuenge of this dispightfull foe Fame from a slumber as it seem'd awake On his behalfe thus for herselfe be-spake 117 What time I came frō world-renowned Rome To waken Europe from her drouzie traunce Summoning the Princes of great Christendome To Palaestine their Ensignes to aduaunce Soūding my trump in England Spaine Fraunce To moue the Christians to religious war Frō Pagans hands to free CHRISTS sepulchar 118 That holy Hermit Peter then as one VVhich as a Saint bewaild so great a losse With Bulloigne Godfrey Christs strong champion Vnder the Banner of the bloody CROSSE Now on the Alps the conquering collours tosse Leading along the brauest Christian band To reare their Tropheys in the HOLY LAND 119 Hether the flocks of gallant spirits do throng The place whence immortalitie doth spring To whom the hope of conquest doth belong Nor any thought lesse then to be a King Hether doth Fame her deerest children bring And in this Camp shee makes her treasury The rarest Iems of Europs Chiualry 120 This conquering lord

hath the kay of reason to vndoe thee Thy works diuine w c powers alone doe knowe Our shallow wits too short for things below 35 The soule diuine by her integritie And by the functious agents of the minde Cleere-sighted so perceiueth through the eye That which is pure and pleasing to her kinde And by her powrfull motions apprehendeth That w c beyond our humane sense extendeth 36 This Edward in the Aprill of his age Whilst yet the Crowne sate on his Fathers head My Ioue with me his Ganimed his Page Frolick as May a lustie life we led He might cōmaund he was my Soueraigns son And what I said by him was euer done 37 My words as lawes autentique hee allow'd My yea by him was neuer crost with no All my conceit as currant hee avow'd And as my shadow still he serued so My hand the racket he the tennis-ball My voyces eccho answering euery call 38 My youth the glasse where he his youth beheld Roses his lips my breath sweet Nectar showers For in my face was Natures fairest field Richly adorn'd with beauties rarest flowers My breast the pillow where he layd his head Mine eyes this brooke my bosome was his bed 39 My smiles were life and Heauen vnto his sight All his delight concluding my desire From mine eyes beames he borrowed all his light And as a flye play'd with my beauties fire His loue-sick lips at euery kissing qualme Cling to my lips to cure their griefe with blame 40 Like as the wanton Iuie with his twine VVhen as the Oake his rootlesse body warmes The straightest saplings strictly doth combine Clipping the woods with his laciuious armes Such our imbraces when our sport begins Lapt in our armes like Ledas louely twins 41 Or as Loue-nursing Venus when she sports VVith cherry-lipt Adonis in the shade Figuring her passions in a thousand sorts With sights teares or what else might perswade Her deere her sweet her ioy her life her loue Kissing his brow his cheek his hand his gloue 42 My beautie was the Load-starre to his thought My lookes the Pilot to his wandring eye By me his sences all sleepe were brought VVhen with sweet loue I sang his lullaby Nature had taught my tongue her perfect time VVhich in his eare strooke dulie as a chime 43 VVith sweetest speech thus could I Syrenics Which as strong Philters youths desire could moue And with such method could I rethorize My musick played the measures to his loue In his faire breast such was my souls impression As to his eyes my thoughts made intercession 44 Thus like an Eagle seated in the Sunne But yet a Phenix in my Soueraignes eye VVe act with shame our Revels are begun The wise could iudge of our Catastrophe But we proceed to play our wanton prize Our mournfull Chorus was a world of eyes 45 The table now of all delight is layd Seru'd with what banquets beautie could deuise She Syrens sing and false Calipso playd Our feast is grac'd with youths sweet Comedies Our looks with smiles are sooth'd of euery eye Carrousing loue in bowles of Iuorie 46 Fraught with delight and safely vnder saile Like flight-wing'd Faucons now we take our scope Our youth and fortune blow a merry gale VVe loose the Anchor of our vertues hope Blinded with pleasure in this lustfull game By over-sight discard our King with shame 47 My youthfull pranks are spurres to his desire I held the raynes which rul'd the golden Sunne My blandishments were fewell to his fire I had the garland who so euer wonne I waxt his wings and taught him art to flie Who on his back might beare me through y e skie 48 Here first that Sun-bright temple is defild VVhich to faire Vertue first was consecrated This was the fruit wher-with I was beguild Here first the deed of all my fame was dated O me even here from Paradice I fell From Angels state frō heauen cast down to hell 49 Loe here the very Image of perfection VVith the black pensell of defame is blotted And with the vlcers of my youths infection My innocencie is besmear'd and spotted Now comes my night ô now my day is donne These sable clouds eclipse my rysing sunne 50 Our innocence our child-bred puritie Is now defild and as our dreames forgot Drawne in the Coach of our securitie VVhat act so vile that we attempted not Our sun-bright vertues fountain-cleer beginning Is now polluted by the filth of sinning 51 O wit too wilfull first by heauen ordayn'd An Antidote by Vertue made to cherish By filthy vice as with a mole art stayn'd A poyson now by which the sences perish That made of force all vices to controule Defames the life and doth confound the soule 52 The Heauen too see my fall doth knit her browes The valty ground under my burthen groneth Vnto mine eyes the ayre no light allowes The very wind my wickednes bemoneth The barren earth repineth at my food And Nature seemes to curse her beastly brood 53 And thus like slaues we sell our soules to sinne Vertue forgot by worlds deceitfull trust Alone by pleasure are we entered in Now wandring in the labyrinth of lust For when the soule is drowned once in vice The sweet of sinne makes hell paradice 54 O pleasure thou the very lure of sinne The root of woe our youths deceitfull guide A shop where all confected poysons bin The bayre of lust the instrument of pride Inchanting Circes smoothing couer-guile Alluring Siren flattering Crocodile 55 Our Ioue which sawe this Phoebus youth betrayd And Phaeton guide the Sun-carre in the skyes Knew well the course with danger hardly stayd For what is not perceiu'd by wise-mens eyes He knew these pleasures posts of our desire Might by misguiding set his throne on fier 56 This was a corsiue to King Edwards dayes These iarring discords quite vntun'd his mirth This was the paine which neuer gaue him ease If euer hell this was his hell on earth This was the burthen which he groned vnder This pincht his soule rent his hart in sunder 57 This venom suckt the marrow from his bones This was the canker which consum'd his yeares This fearfull vision fild his sleepe with grones This winter snow'd downe frost vpon his haires This was the moth this was the fretting rust VVhich so consum'd his glory vnto dust 58 The humor found which fed this foule disease Most needs be stay'd ere help could be deuis'd The vaine must breath the burning to appease Hardly a cure the wound not cauteriz'd That member now where in the botch was risen Infecteth all not cured by incision 59 The cause coniectur'd by this Prodigie From whence this foule contagious sicknes grue VVisdome alone must giue a remedie Thus to preuent the danger to insue The cause must end ere the effect could cease Else might the danger daylie more increase 60 Now they whose eyes to death enui'd my glory VVhose safetie still vpon my down-fall stood These these could comment

on my youthfull story These were y e Wolues which thirsted for my blood These all vnlade their mischiefes at this bay And make the breach to enter my decay 61 These currs which liu'd by carrion of the court These wide-mouth'd helhounds long time kept at bay Finding the King to credit their report Like greedie Rauens follow for their pray Despightfull Langton fauorit to the King This was the Serpent stroke me with his sting 62 Such as beheld this lightning from aboue My Princely Ioue from out the ayre to thunder This Earth-quake which did my foundation moue This boystrous strome this vnexspected wonder They thought my Sunne had been eclipsed quite And all my day now turn'd to Winters night 63 My youth embowel'd by their curious eyes VVhose true reports my lyfe anotomis'd VVho still pursu'd me like deceitfull spyes To crosse that which I wantonly deuis'd Perceiue the traine me to the trap had led And down they come like hailstones on my head 64 My Sunne eclips'd each starre becomes a Sunne When Phoebus failes then Cynthia shineth bright These furnish vp the Stage my act is done Which were but Glo-worms to my glorious light They erst condemn'd by my perfections doome In Phoebus Chariot now possesse my roome 65 The Commons swore I led the Prince to vice The Noble-men said I abus'd the King Graue Matrons such as lust could not intice Like women whispred of another thing Such as could not aspire vnto my place These were subborn'd to offer me disgrace 66 The staffe thus broke wheron my youth did stay And like the shaddow all my pleasures gone Now with the winds my ioyes fleet hence away The silent night makes musick to my mone The tatling Ecchoes whispring with the ayre Vnto my words sound nothing but dispayre 67 The frowning Heauens are all in sable clad The Planet of my liues misfortune raineth No musick serues a dying soule to glad My wrong to Tirants for redresse complaineth To ease my paine there is no remedie So far despayre exceeds extremitie 68 VVhy doe I quake my down-fall to report Tell on my Ghost the storie of my woe The King commaunds I must depart the court I aske no question he will haue it so The Lyons roring lesser Beasts doth feare The greatest flye when he approcheth neare 69 My Prince is now appointed to his gard As from a Traytor he is kept from me My banishment alreadie is prepard Away I must there is no remedie On paine of death I may no longer stay Such is reuenge which brooketh no delay 70 The skyes with clouds are all inuelloped The pitchy fogs eclipse my cheerfull Sunne The geatie night hath all her curtains spred And all the ayre with vapours ouer-runne Wanting those rayes whose cleernes lent me light My sun-shine day is turn'd black-fac'd night 71 Like to the bird of Leda's Lemmans die Beating his breast against the siluer streame The fatall Prophet of his destenie With mourning chants his death aproching theame So now I sing the dirges of my fall The Anthemes of my fatall funerall 72 Or as the faithfull Turtle for her make VVhose youth enioyd her deare virginitie Sits shrouded in some melancholly brake Chirping fotth accents of her miserie Thus halfe distracted sitting all alone With speaking sighs to vtter forth my mone 73 My beautie sdayning to behold the light Now weather-beaten with a thousand storms My dainty lims must trauaile day and night Which oft were luld in princely Edwards armes Those eyes where Beautie sat in all her pride VVith fearefull obiects fild on euery side 74 The Prince so much astonisht with the blowe So that it seem'd as yet he felt no paine Vntil at length awakned by his woe He sawe the wound by which his ioyes were slaine His cares fresh bleeding fainting more and more No Cataplasma now to cure the sore 75 Now weepe mine eyes and lend me teares at will You sad-musd sisters help me to indite And in your faire Castalia bathe my quill In bloodie lines whilst I his woes recite Inspire my Muse â Heauens now from aboue To paint the passions of a princely loue 76 His eyes about their rowling Globes doe east To find that Sunne frō whom they had their light His thoughts doe labour for that sweet repast VVhich past the day and pleasd him all the night He counts the howers so slolie how they runne Reproues the day blames the loytring Sunne 77 As gorgious Phoebus in his first vprise Discouering now his Scarlet-coloured head By troublous motions of the lowring skies His glorious beames with foggs are ouer-spread So are his cheerfull browes eclips'd with sorrow w t cloud y t shine of his youths-smiling morrow 78 Now showring downe a flood of brackish teares The Epithemas to his hart-swolne griefe Then sighing out a vollue of despayres VVhich only is th'afflicted mans reliefe Now wanting sighes all his teares were spent His tongue brake out into this sad lament 79 O breake my hart quoth he ô breake and dye Whose Infant thoughts were nurst with sweet delight But now the Inne of care and miserie VVhose pleasing hope is murthered by despight O end my dayes for now my ioyes are done VVanting my Piers my sweetest Gaueston 80 Farewell my Loue companion of my youth My soules delight the subiect of my mirth My second selfe if I report the truth The rare and only Phenix of the earth Farwell sweet friend with thee my ioyes are gon Farewell my Piers my louely Gaueston 81 VVhat are the rest but painted Imagrie Domb Idols made to fill vp idle roomes But gaudie Anticks sports of foolerie But fleshly Coffins goodly gilded toombs But Puppets which with others words replie Like pratling Ecchoes soothing euery lie 82 O damned world I scorne thee and thy worth The very source of all iniquitie An ougly dam that brings such monsters forth The maze of death nurse of impietie A filthy sinke where lothsomnes doth dwell A Labyrinth a Iayle a very hell 83 Deceitfull Syren Traytor to my youth Bane to my blisse false theese that steal'st my ioyes Mother of lyes sworne enemie to truth The ship of fooles fraught all with gauds toyes A vessell stuft with foule hypocrisie The very temple of Idolatrie 84 O earth-pale Saturne most maleuolent Combustious Planet tyrant in thy raigne The sword of wrath the root of discontent In whose ascendant all my ioyes are slaine Thou executioner of foule bloody rage To act the will of lame decrepit age 85 My life is but a very map of woes My ioyes the fruit of an vntimely birth My youth in labour with vnkindly throwes My pleasures are like plagues that raigne on earth All my delights like streams that swiftly runne Or like the dewe exhaled by the Sunne 86 O Heauens why are you deafe vnto my mone Sdayne you my prayers or scorne to heare my misse Cease you to moue or is your pitty gone Or is it you which rob me of my blisse What are you