Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	wonder_n	world_n	wrought_v	72	3	7.4595	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A33433	Clievelandi Vindiciæ, or, Clieveland's genuine poems, orations, epistles, &c. purged from the many false and spurious ones which had usurped his name, and from innumerable errours and corruptions in the true copies : to which are added many never printed before, with an account of the author's life.; Vindiciae	Cleveland, John, 1613-1658.	1677 (1677)	Wing C4671; ESTC R1324	86,279	262

second Course Should we like Thracians our dead bodies eat He would have liv'd only to save his Meat Lastly we did devour that Corps of His Throughout all Ovid's Metamorphosis On the Memory of Mr. Edward King drown'd in the Irish Seas I Like not tears in tune nor do I prize His artificial Grief who scans his eyes Mine weep down pious Beads but why should I Confine them to the Muses Rosary I am no Poet here my Pen's the Spout Where the Rain-water of mine eyes run out In pity of that Name whose Fate we see Thus copied out in Grief's Hydrography The Muses are not Mer-mayds though upon His Death the Ocean might turn Helicon The Sea 's too rough for Verse who ryhmes upon 't With Xerxes strives to ●etter th' Hellespont My Tears will keep no Channel know no Laws To guide their streams but like the waves their cause Run with disturbance till they swallow me As a Description of his Misery But can his spatious Virtue find a Grave Within the Impostum'd bubble of a Wave Whose Learning if we sound we must confess The Sea but shallow and him bottomless Could not the Winds to countermand thy death With their whole Card of Lungs redeem thy breath Or some new Island in thy rescue peep To heave thy Resurrection from the Deep That so the World might see thy safety wrought With no less wonder than thy self was thought The famous Stagirite who in his life Had Nature as familiar as his Wife Bequeath'd his Widow to survive with thee Queen Dowager of all Philosophy An ominous Legacy that did portend Thy Fate and Predecessor's second end Some have affirm'd that what on Earth we find The Sea can parallel for shape and kind Books Arts and Tongues were wanting but in thee Neptune hath got an University We 'll dive no more for Pearls the hope to see Thy sacred Reliques of Mortality Shall welcome Storms and make the Seaman prize His Shipwrack now more than his Merchandize He shall embrace the Waves and to thy Tomb As to a Royaler Exchange shall come What can we now expect Water and Fire Both Elements our ruin do conspire And that dissolves us which doth us compound One Vatican was burnt another drown'd We of the Gown our Libraries must toss To understand the greatness of our Loss Be Pupils to our Grief and so much grow In Learning as our Sorrows overflow When we have fill'd the Rundlets of our Eyes We 'll issue't forth and vent such Elegies As that our Tears shall seem the Irish Seas We floating Islands living Hebrides An Elegy upon the Arch-Bishop of Canterbury I Need no Muse to give my Passion vent He brews his Tears that studies to lament Verse chymically weeps that pious rain Distill'd by Art is but the sweat o' th' Brain Who ever sob'd in Numbers Can a Groan Be quaver'd out in soft Division 'T is true for common formal Elegies Not Bushel's Wells can Match a Poet's Eyes In wanton Water-Works he 'll tune his Tears From a Geneva-Jig up to the Spheres But then he mourns at distance weeps aloof Now that the Conduit Head is our own Roof Now that the Fate is Publick we may call It Britain's Vespers England's Funeral Who hath a Pencil to express the Saint But he hath Eyes too washing off the Paint There is no Learning but what Tears surround Like to Seth's Pillars in the Deluge drown'd There is no Church Religion is grown So much of late that she 's encreast 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 an Ordinance The Liturgy whose doom was voted next Did as a Comment upon him the Text. There 's nothing lives Life is since he is gone But a Nocturnal Lucubration Thus you have seen Death's Inventory read In the Summ total Canterbury's dead A sight would make a Pagan to baptize Himself a Convert in his bleeding Ey●s Would thaw the Rabble that fierce Beast of ours That which Hyena-like weeps and devours Tears that flow brackish from their Souls within Not to repent but pickle up their Sin Mean time no squalid Grief his Look defiles He guilds his sadder Fate with nobler Smiles Thus the World's Eye with reconciled Streams Shines in his showers as if he wept his beams How could Success such Villanies applaud The State in Strafford fell the Church in Land The Twins of publick rage adjudg'd to die For Treasons they should act by Prophecie The Facts were done before the Laws were made The Trump turn'd up after the Game was play'd Be dull great Spirits and forbear to climb For Worth is Sin and Eminence a Crime No Church-man can be Innocent and High 'T is height makes Grantham Steeple stand awry Epitaphium Thomae Spell Coll. Divi Iohannis Praesidis HIe jacet Quantillum Quan●i Ille quatenus potuit mori Thomas Spellus Fuit nomen erit Epitheton Post humus sibi perennabit idem Olim olim Ille qui sibi futurus Posteri Vt esse poterat Majores sui Honestis quicquid debuit Natalibus Mactus in sese disputandus utrum Sui magis an ex Patrum traduce Quem vitae Drama Mitionem dedit Qui verba protulit ut Alcedo pullos Omine pacis Quocum sepul●a jacet Vrbanitas Et Malaci mores tanquam Soldurii Commoriuntur Pauperum Scipio amor omnium Collegii Coagulum Honorum Climax Scholaris Socius Senior Praeses Et Pastor gregis in cruce providus Oculos à fl●ndo non moror amplius Vixit Mark Anthony WHen as the Nightingale chanted her Vespers And the wild Forrester couch'd on the ground Venus invited me in th' Evening Whispers Unto a fragrant Field with Roses crown'd Where she before had sent My Wishes Complement Unto my Heart's content Play'd with me on the Green Never Mark Anthony Dallied more wantonly With the fair Egyptian Queen First on her cherry Cheeks I mine Eyes feasted Thence fear of Surfeiting made me retire Next on her warmer Lips which when I tasted My duller Spirits made me active as fire Then we began to dart Each at another's Heart Arrows that knew no smart Sweet Lips and Smiles between Never Mark c. Wanting a Glass to plate her Amber Tresses Which like a Bracelet rich decked mine Arm Gawdier than Iuno wears when as she Graces Iove with Embraces more stately than warm Then did she peep in mine Eyes humour Chrystalline I in her Eyes was seen As if we one had been Never Mark c. Mystical Grammar of Amorous Glances Feeling of Pulses the Physick of Love Rhetorical Courtings and Musical Dances Numbring of Kisses Arithmetick prove Eyes like Astronomy Straight-limb'd Geometry In her Art's Ingeny Our Wits were sharp and ke●n Never Mark Anthony Dallied more wantonly With the fair Egyptian Queen The Author's Mock-Song to Mark Anthony WHen as the Nightingale sang Pluto's Mattins And Cerberus cri'd three Amens at a Howl