Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	wood_n	word_n	write_v	18	3	5.0698	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A69157	The pilgrime and heremite in forme of a dialogue, by Master Alexander Craig.	Craig, Alexander, 1567?-1627.; Skene, Robert, fl. 1631.	1631 (1631)	STC 5957; ESTC S105267	14,624	32

not to envye thy loue But that I might beholde my wracke revenged from Aboue Or that such wrongs as mine if such or worse might bee Might make mee smile at thy Mishaps as thou hast done at mee Or then that sometime thou like that Minoniane Dame Mightst loue and loathed bee and suffer such like shame Or that the fatall Sparke whereon thy Loines might lout And mounting much might make thee pleade for Peace thy time about Yet whiles againe I thinke might I my wish obtaine I could not but bee kinde to thee for kindnesse that hath beene Thus what I would I wish but wot not what I would Twixt Heate and Colde I frieze I frye and fearfull am and bolde Yea though I bee dismaide such is my flaming Fyre That Neptunes Kingdome could not quench the Coales of my Desyre Yet whiles I reade the Schrole of Torments which I thole Where no Mischance is mixt to fill a grieved Martyres Roll. And when I looke the Liues wherein thy Hellish Doome By thy Chyrographie sent That Death should me consume Thus I resolue at ones for to obey thy will Although my Lyfe the Ransome bee thy Furie to fulfill Since Contraries wee see are by Contraries cured Then welcome Death to cut the Threed which hath so long endured For why my Prayers are but Curses late and aire And I beséech the gods by night to see the Day no maire My wishes are that Hilles and Rockes should on mee fall To end my endlesse breath my lyfe my loue and all Yet all those wishes are but types that I must die Which revelations all at once shall now accomplisht bee Then louelesse dame adue whom I haue helde so deare And welcome Death to cut the Threede which holdes my lyfe in weire And Pilgryme thou who took'st thy way in manie airts For me prepare a burial Bed for Bones when Breath departs Yet recommend mine Heart vnto my sometime-Sweet Who shall when I am dead and gone for Grace and Guerdon greet And let that place bee nam'd Strophonius Caue of care Where nought but woefull wandring ●ight● vndone w●●… duill repare And let this Caberne colde wherein I dwelt to die For Misers and vnhappie men a matchlesse Manston bee Let him whose erring steps should guide him heere to plaine Take paines to recollect my rolls scattered Skrolls againe That these my Waylings now and Sorrowes Children may Extolde in after comming times endure and lieue for aye And that the wandring eyes which reade my sorrowing songs When I am dead may say that shee causelesse hath wrought such wrongs The Mountaines high whose poynts doe pierce the asure Aire Whose echoes lowde my Commerades make comfort to my Care Still mot your hights aryse with statelie tops and stay To match the Alpes that yee may bee as famous faire as they Yee Ualleyes louelie low with sweet and levell lynes Where Natures workmanship and pryde in Floraes Mantle shynes Greene mot yee grow for aye and that ne spaits of raine No Snowie showres no partching Sunne your statelie broydering staine And thou O blessed Brooke which didst accept my Teares And harbered thē within thy heart so manie loathsome yeares Unto the Ocean great most swiftlie mot yee slide To pay thy debts bout stop or stay of contrare streame or tide Yee whisling windes likewise which swiftlie did receiue My Cogiate Sighs and burie them within your Bosome braue Doe thus much once for mee Take one Sigh to my Dame And whispering sweetlie show that Sainct thus haue I sent the same And if shee doe refuse which out of doubt I dread The newes of No shall bee a Sput to haste mee to my dead Yee braue and statslie Trees which circumcituate heere Still bloome and blossome with the change of yearlie changing cheare Though I did ryue your Kyndes brake your tender Barkes By painting Polyphilaes name to your immortall markes Agrieue not with your wounds for I dare well avow That I more cruellie haue rent my tender Heart than you But last and by the laiue thou Holline graue and greene Wherein my Mistresse name and mine most liuelie may bee seene I consecrate to thee my Corpse when I am gone That by my losse I may enlarge thy thornie leaues eachone And when I shall consume and rot about thy roote Then shall thy Boughs and Branches bloome and beare a fairer Fruit And as thou tak'st increase so shall Her Name and mine Unto thy praise my losse her shame in seemelie sort aye shine Yee savage Citizens which in this Forrest bee That did exchange your Cruelties in Courtesies to mee Well not yee bee poore Beastes and that no shots of Lead No life-bereaving Bow nor Bolt procure nor haste your dead And thou sweete pyping Pan ye Fawnes and Satyres rare Which were amidst my matchlesse moanes Companions of my care Ye Nymphes of Hilles Dales of Woods of Uailes of Floods I bid you all alace Good-night and so my Muse concludes For now the Herbinger of Death must life and loue bereaue My Heart is faint and loe my Soule begins to take her leaue And so at point of Death whose wisht approach I feele To end my life I write this last Ill-faring word Fare-well So endeth the Testament of Stophonius Thus the poore Heremite in midst of his paine Began to repeate his faire Mistres speach Downe betwixt mine Armes fell in dead thraw againe UUhen no Leid for his life mee thought could be Leach His Cognate Corpse as Clay were like the Lead Yea healthlesse and helplesse were Heart Hand and Head I began to bewaile And eke for to raile On her whose faith did faile In such time of neede Yet in the midst of my moanes downe lighted that Dame Companied with none but her Palfray and Page And when shée saw her liele Loue lye deade ere shée came Her faire Face and rich Robes shée rent in great rage And ●●atlings shée fell vpon his faint Face And great Seas of sault Teares shée spent in short space And séeing her Swéet slaine No remead did remaine Shee thus began to plaine Her bad carefull case Polyphila her Complaint and Testament O endlesse Night of noyse which hath no Morrow O lowring Heavens which harmes still haue threat Ov'r mantling mee with sable Clowds of Sorrow UUhereas no Starre doeth shine earlie nor late Although I ship from Craig to seeke my Mate And from a glorious Garland to my Crowne I finde by death my daintie Rose dung downe Yée swelling Seas with waltering UUaues that roll To resolute the weather-beaten Shoare They eb they flow and changing Courses tholl And dare transcende their bounded banks no more But I alace whom Duill doeth still devoure I finde no entermissions to my Moanes But ere and late lament my grievous Groanes How can my wofull Heart and weeping Eyes Beholde the dearest of my life bereaft How can my minde admit the least surmyze Of anie Hope that hath but Horrour left My Pilote now by North nor

woe Till Death with his Dart come put mee from payne Else Atropus cutting quyte the Threed in two And on the greene growing Barke of each blooming Tree This Diton indorsed shall well written bee In sorrow and sight slayne For Her heere I remayne Who lykes of another ane Much more than of mee Fond Heremite quod I then thy loue would appeare Too high to bée placed aboue thy degree And thy fond foolish hope frozen with feare And Fortune thy Olde Friend thy New Enemie For shee whom thou best lovest as thy selfe sayes As reasonlesse and ruethlasse respects thee nowayes Thy syle is her sight Thy duill her delight And thy payne to despight Shee pleasantlie playes Whereby it well séemes thy labour is lost And vnto thy graue thou it goe ere thou get her Mad man why mak'st thou thyne enemie thy hospe Die not a foole man for Gods sake forget her For put case in hope to obtayne thy desyres Thou die heere for want of Bed Food and Fyres Then who shall bee seene To louk thy dead Eine And intombe thee I weine As custome requyres Leaue then thy Heremitage and this colde Caue And liue no more in loue since thou art not lov'd But follow mee and take part as I haue Companie and counsell may doe thee some good For Don-Diëgo had died in Desart Wert not Rodorico did him there convert Thus it may fall so That I thy Rodorico May finde ease to thy woe And heale thy hurt Heart Speake Pilgrime quod hee of thinges that may bee Or that hath appearance to take some effect For such is my faintnesse I want force to flee Loue Fortune Death haue given such a checke Betwixt Wit and Will there is great debate The one with the other stryving for the state Flee Loue quod my Wit Stay sayes my Will yet So I byde so I flit So I loue so I hate But where thou wouldst seeme to salue all my sore And by thy strait statutes to stay all my sturt Meddle with that matter good Pilgrime no more Since all mine health hangeth on her that mee hurt The Coal● that mee burnes to the bone will I blow Though Liver Lungs and Lights fly vp in a low Since shee doeth decree it That I die so bee it I long till I see it Let Death bende his Bow Uayne wretch quod I then cast off thy vowed Weed● And wander no more in this wilde Wildernesse It may bee thy Mistres that deare Dame bee dead For whose swéete sake daylie that diest in distresse Perchance before that thou her againe see By vote of the Wan-weird● that buried shee b●● Or put case thy Dame deare Hath chosen a new Pheare Thou wouldst despare to see her That so lightlies thee Or contrarywyse good Heremite suppone Thy Mistres this moment hath good minde of thee And for thy long absence maketh great moane And from her heart wisheth her leile loue to see Saying in her selfe Would God I wist where My poore pyned Patient doeth make his repare Wist I well so I thryue That hee were yet alyue I should bee no wights wyue For ten yeares and maire Conceit with thy selfe good Heremite I pray If thy Dame bee dead thou wéep'st but in vaine Thou art a starke Stocke heere still for to stay And mourne for the losse that mendes not thy moane For if shee some other respect more than thee What grace canst thou get in duill heere to die Or wouldst thou thy trueth Should reape reward of rueth Why slipst thou so with sleuth The thing that may bee Good Pilgrime saide hee then of these two I see As you seeme to conclude the one must bee true Shee loathes or shee loues a mids may not bee As to my paines I may prooue by signes anew For my beloved Loue my deare daintie Dame Despiseth those Elements which spell my poore Name UUoe is mee if I mint To forge Floods from the Flint My true travell shall bee tint Such Friendship to frame But you would say that Death drierie Death Perhaps hath abrogate my deare Dames dayes To looke for a long lyfe then must I bee loath Whom each froward frowne else of Fortune affrayes And since alyke for her loue I haue tane such payne I care not a cuit for her sake to bee slayne I shall not séeme for to shrinke Of Death for hey death to drinke Whose swéete Eyes with a winke May reviue mee agayne Let this then applease thee good Pilgrime I pray That no presence absence no distance of place No fond toyes no new frayes no tyme no delay No bad chance no new change nor contrarie case No not the fierce flames that Fortune can spit Shall make my firme fixed sayth or fancie to flit Yea let her fléete let her flow Let her doe what shee dow To gar my griefe aye grow I shall bee true yet Good Heremite for trueth tolde I oft tymes haue heard The leilest in loue commeth aye the worst spéede And hee that deserues well to reape best reward For firme sayth and friendship shall finde nought but feide Take tent to the tales tolde of true Troyall Knight And hee that hanged him selfe if I reade right Yea though thy sute thou obtayne With one word tint agayne Short pleasure long payne With duile day and night But since thou delightest to liue still in loue Advyse thee on this well Bee never too true Though thou sweare and say thy mynde shall not moue For Orphus take Protus to change aye thy hew Was not great Ioue turn'd in a Showre in a Fyre In a Swan in a Bull t' obtayne his desyre For hee that loues lighliest Bee sure hee shall speede best And hee that loues without rest Shall surely get ill hyre Wherefore in loue if that thou wouldst come speede Thou must flee fayth bee facile false vntrue Ere thou prevayle right so farre as I reide There must bee a sympathie twixt her and you For I demand How can right Concord bee Whyle you are true and shee both false and slee Shee lykes well another sho Then choose new and change too And if you well doe Bee as false as shee Alace quod the Heremite too late I spye the right And wronged with woe still wrongly I frame I know that in loue my Ladie proues but light And if that I were wyse I would doe the same But fayth and her remembrance martyres mee maire Than did her presence perfect mee when I was there For whyles grieved I greete Whyles I mourne till wee meete And some tymes my poore sprite Dies drowned in despare And whyles in a rage I reckon with my sell And to and fro dispute to dash my desyre Halfe dead in Desart heere why should I dwell And pyne with payne wanting Bed Food and Fyre Why doe I lose youths pryme without all gayne Or why mourne I for her that kéepes Disdayne And when that I conclude To burne Habite and Hood Yet doe I not dde it My Uow is