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	yield_v	25	3	6.4699	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A69225	Poems, by J.D. VVith elegies on the authors death	Donne, John, 1572-1631.	1633 (1633)	STC 7045; ESTC S121864	150,803	413

influence all impression came But by receivers impotencies lame Who though she could not transubstantiate All states to gold yet guilded every state So that some Princes have some temperance Some Counsellers some purpose to advance The common profit and some people have Some stay no more then Kings should give to crave Some women have some taciturnity Some nunneries some graines of chastitie She that did thus much and much more could doe But that our age was Iron and rustie too Shee she is dead she 's dead when thou knowst this Thou knowst how drie a Cinder this world is And learn'st thus much by our Anatomy That 't is in vaine to dew or mollifie It with thy teares or sweat or blood nothing Is worth our travaile griefe or perishing But those rich joyes which did possesse her heart Of which she 's now partaker and a part But as in cutting up a man that 's dead The body will not last out to have read On every part and therefore men direct Their speech to parts that are of most effect So the worlds carcasse would not last if I Were punctuall in this Anatomy Nor smels it well to hearers if one tell Them their disease who faine would think thy're well Here therefore be the end and blessed maid Of whom is meant what ever hath been said Or shall be spoken well by any tongue Whose name refines course lines and makes prose song Accept this tribute and his first yeares rent Who till his darke short tapers end be spent As oft as thy feast sees this widowed earth Will yearely celebrate thy second birth That is thy death for though the soule of man Be got when man is made 't is borne but than When man doth die our body 's as the wombe And as a Mid-wife death directs it home And you her creatures whom she workes upon And have your last and best concoction From her example and her vertue if you In reverence to her do thinke it due That no one should her praises thus rehearse As matter fit for Chronicle not verse Vouchsafe to call to minde that God did make A last and lasting'st peece a song He spake To Moses to deliver unto all That song because hee knew they would let fall The Law the Prophets and the History But keepe the song still in their memory Such an opinion in due measure made Me this great office boldly to invade Nor could incomprehensiblenesse deterre Mee from thus trying to emprison her Which when I saw that a strict grave could doe I saw not why verse might not do so too Verse hath a middle nature heaven keepes Soules The Grave keepes bodies Verse the Fame enroules A Funerall ELEGIE 'T Is lost to trust a Tombe with such a guest Or to confine her in a marble chest Alas what 's Marble Jeat or Porphyrie Priz'd with the Chrysolite of either eye Or with those Pearles and Rubies which she was Joyne the two Indies in one Tombe 't is glasse And so is all to her materials Though every inch were ten Escurials Yet she 's demolish'd can wee keepe her then In works of hands or of the wits of men Can these memorials ragges of paper give Life to that name by which name they must live Sickly alas short-liv'd aborted bee Those carcasse verses whose soule is not shee And can shee who no longer would be shee Being such a Tabernacle stoop to be In paper wrapt or when shee would not lie In such a house dwell in an Elegie But'tis no matter wee may well allow Verse to live so long as the world will now For her death wounded it The world containes Princes for armes and counsellors for braines Lawyers for tongues Divines for hearts and more The rich for stomackes and for backs the poore The officers for hands merchants for feet By which remote and distant Countries meet But those fine spirits which do tune and set This Organ are those peeces which beget Wonder and love and these were shee and shee Being spent the world must needs decrepit bee For since death will proceed to triumph still He can finde nothing after her to kill Except the world it selfe so great was shee Thus brave and confident may Nature bee Death cannot give her such another blow Because shee cannot such another show But must wee say she 's dead may 't not be said That as a sundred clocke is peecemeale laid Not to be lost but by the makers hand Repollish'd without errour then to stand Or as the Affrique Niger streame enwombs It selfe into the earth and after comes Having first made a naturall bridge to passe For many leagues farre greater then it was May 't not be said that her grave shall restore Her greater purer firmer then before Heaven may say this and joy in 't but can wee Who live and lacke her here this vantage see What is 't to us alas if there have beene An Angell made a Throne or Cherubin Wee lose by 't and as aged men are glad Being tastlesse growne to joy in joyes they had So now the sick starv'd world must feed upon This joy that we had her who now is gone Rejoyce then Nature and this World that you Fearing the last fires hastning to subdue Your force and vigour ere it were neere gone Wisely bestow'd and laid it all on one One whose cleare body was so pure and thinne Because it need disguise no thought within 'T was but a through-light scarfe her minde t'inroule Or exhalation breath'd out from her Soule One whom all men who durst no more admir'd And whom who ere had worke enough desir'd As when a Temple 's built Saints emulate To which of them it shall be consecrate But as when heaven lookes on us with new eyes Those new starres every Artist exercise VVhat place they should assigne to them they doubt Argue ' and agree not till those starres goe out So the world studied whose this peece should be Till shee can be no bodies else nor shee But like a Lampe of Balsamum desir'd Rather t' adorne then last she soone expir'd Cloath'd in her virgin white integritie For marriage though it doth not staine doth die To scape th'infirmities which wait upon VVoman she went away before sh'was one And the worlds busie noyse to overcome Tooke so much death as serv'd for opium For though she could not nor could chuse to dye She'ath yeelded to too long an extasie Hee which not knowing her said History Should come to reade the booke of destiny How faire and chast humble and high she'ad been Much promis'd much perform'd at not fifteene And measuring future things by things before Should turne the leafe to reade and reade no more VVould thinke that either destiny mistooke Or that some leaves were torne out of the booke But 't is not so Fate did but usher her To yeares of reasons use and then inferre Her destiny to her selfe which liberty She tooke but for thus much thus much

to be possessor Of old or new love himselfe being false or weake Thought his paine and shame would be lesser If on womankind he might his anger wreake And thence a law did grow One might but one man know But are other creatures so Are Sunne Moone or Starres by law forbidden To smile where they list or lend away their light Are birds divorc'd or are they chidden If they leave their mate or lie abroad a night Beasts doe no joyntures lose Though they new lovers choose But we are made worse then those Who e'r rigg'd faire ship to lie in harbors And not to seeke new lands or not to deale withall Or built faire houses set trees and arbors Only to lock up or else to let them fall Good is not good unlesse A thousand it possesse But doth wast with greedinesse The Dreame DEare love for nothing lesse then thee Would I have broke this happy dreame It was a theame For reason much too strong for phantasie Therefore thou wakd'st me wisely yet My Dreame thou brok'st not but continued'st it Thou art so truth that thoughts of thee suffice To make dreames truths and fables histories Enter these armes for since thou thoughtst it best Not to dreame all my dreame let 's act the rest As lightning or a Tapers light Thine eyes and not thy noise wak'd mee Yet I thought thee For thou lovest truth an Angell at first sight But when I saw thou sawest my heart And knew'st my thoughts beyond an Angels art When thou knew'st what I dreamt whē thou knew'st whē Excesse of joy would wake me and cam'st then I must confesse it could not chuse but bee Prophane to thinke thee any thing but thee Comming and staying show'd thee thee But rising makes me doubt that now Thou art not thou That love is weake where feare 's as strong as hee 'T is not all spirit pure and brave If mixture it of Feare Shame Honor have Perchance as torches which must ready bee Men light and put out so thou deal'st with mee Thou cam'st to kindle goest to come Then I Will dreame that hope againe but else would die A Valediction of weeping LEt me powre forth My teares before thy face whil'st I stay here For thy face coines them and thy stampe they beare And by this Mintage they are something worth For thus they bee Pregnant of thee Fruits of much griefe they are emblemes of more When a teare falls that thou falst which it bore So thou and I are nothing then when on a divers shore On a round ball A workeman that hath copies by can lay An Europe Afrique and an Asia And quickly make that which was nothing All So doth each teare Which thee doth weare A globe yea world by that impression grow Till thy teares mixt with mine doe overflow This world by waters sent from thee my heaven dissolved so O more then Moone Draw not up seas to drowne me in thy spheare Weepe me not dead in thine armes but forbeare To teach the sea what it may doe too soone Let not the winde Example finde To doe me more harme then it purposeth Since thou and I sigh one anothers breath Who e'r sighes most is cruellest and hasts the others death Loves Alchymie SOme that have deeper digg'd loves Myne then I Say where his centrique happinesse doth lie I have lov'd and got and told But should I love get tell till I were old I should not finde that hidden mysterie Oh 't is imposture all And as no chymique yet th'Elixar got But glorifies his pregnant pot If by the way to him befall Some odoriferous thing or medicinall So lovers dreame a rich and long delight But get a winter-seeming summers night Our ease our thrift our honor and our day Shall we for this vaine Bubles shadow pay Ends love in this that my man Can be as happy'as I can If he can Endure the short scorne of a Bridegroomes play That loving wretch that sweares 'T is not the bodies marry but the mindes Which he in her Angelique findes Would sweare as justly that he heares In that dayes rude hoarse minstralsey the spheares Hope not for minde in women at their best Sweetnesse and wit they' are but Mummy possest The Flea MArke but this flea and marke in this How little that which thou deny'st me is It suck'd me first and now sucks thee And in this flea our two bloods mingled bee Thou know'st that this cannot be said A sinne nor shame nor losse of maidenhead Yet this enjoyes before it wooe And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two And this alas is more then wee would doe Oh stay three lives in one flea spare Where wee almost yea more then maryed are This flea is you and I and this Our mariage bed and mariage temple is Though parents grudge and you w' are met And cloysterd in these living walls of Jet Though use make you apt to kill mee Let not to that selfe murder added bee And sacrilege three sinnes in killing three Cruell and sodaine hast thou since Purpled thy naile in blood of innocence Wherein could this flea guilty bee Except in that drop which it suckt from thee Yet thou triumph'st and saist that thou Find'st not thy selfe nor mee the weaker now 'T is true then learne how false feares bee Just so much honor when thou yeeld'st to mee Will wast as this flea's death tooke life from thee The Curse WHo ever guesses thinks or dreames he knowes Who is my mistris wither by this curse His only and only his purse May some dull heart to love dispose And shee yeeld then to all that are his foes May he be scorn'd by one whom all else scorne Forsweare to others what to her he' hath sworne With feare of missing shame of getting torne Madnesse his sorrow gout his cramp may hee Make by but thinking who hath made him such And may he feele no touch Of conscience but of fame and bee Anguish'd not that 't was sinne but that 't was shee In early and long scarcenesse may he rot For land which had been his if he had not Himselfe incestuously an heire begot May he dreame Treason and beleeve that hee Meant to performe it and confesse and die And no record tell why His sonnes which none of his may bee Inherite nothing but his infamie Or may he so long Parasites have fed That he would faine be theirs whom he hath bred And at the last be circumcis'd for bread The venom of all stepdames gamsters gall What Tyrans and their subjects interwish What Plants Myne Beasts Foule Fish Can contribute all ill which all Prophets or Poets spake And all which shall Be annex'd in schedules unto this by mee Fall on that man For if it be a shee Nature before hand hath out-cursed mee AN ANATOMIE OF THE WORLD Wherein By occasion of the untimely death of Mistris ELIZABETH DRVRY the frailty and the decay of this whole World is represented The first Anniversary