Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	word_n	world_n	wrong_n	18	3	7.7509	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A11254	The phoenix nest Built vp with the most rare and refined workes of noble men, woorthy knights, gallant gentlemen, masters of arts, and braue schollers. Full of varietie, excellent inuention, and singular delight. Neuer before this time published. Set foorth by R.S. of the Inner Temple Gentleman.	R. S., of the Inner Temple.; Raleigh, Walter, Sir, 1552?-1618. aut; Stapleton, Richard, fl. 1595, attributed name.	1593 (1593)	STC 21516; ESTC S101929	50,100	122

thoughts his life and that he writ Highest conceits longest foresights and deepest works of wit He onely like himselfe was second vnto none Whose deth though life we rue wrong al in vain do mone Their losse not him waile they that fill the world with cries Death slue not him but he made death his ladder to the skies Now sinke of sorow I who liue the more the wrong Who wishing death whom deth denies whose thred is al to long Who tied to wretched life who lookes for no reliefe Must spend my euer dying daies in neuer ending griefe Harts ease and onely I like parables run on Whose equall length keepe equall bredth neuer meet in one Yet for not wronging him my thoughts my sorowes cell Shall not run out though leake they will for liking him so well Farewell to you my hopes my wonted waking dreames Farewell somtimes enioied ioy eclipsed are thy beames Farewell selfe pleasing thoughts which quietnes brings foorth And farewel friendships sacred league vniting minds of woorth And farewell mery hart the gift of guiltles mindes And all sports which for liues restore varietie assignes Let all that sweete is voide in me no mirth may dwell Philip the cause of all this woe my liues content farewell Now rime the sonne of rage which art no kin to skill And endles griefe which deads my life yet knowes not how to kill Go seeke that haples tombe which if ye hap to finde Salute the stones that keepe the lims that held so good a minde The praise of Chastitie Wherein is set foorth by way of comparison how great is the conquest ouer our affections by G. P. Master of Arts. THe noble Romans whilom woonted were For triumph of their conquered enimies The wreathes of Laurell and of Palme to weare In honor of their famous victories And so in robes of gold and purple dight Like bodies shrinde in seates of Iuotie Their names renowmde for happines in fight They beare the guerdon of their chiualrie The valiant Greekes for sacke of Priams towne A worke of manhood matcht with policie Haue fild the world with bookes of their renowne As much as erst the Romane emperie The Phrygian knights that in the house of fame Haue shining armes of endles memorie By hot and fierce repulse did win the same Though Helens rape hurt Paris progenie Thus strength hath guerdon by the worlds award So praise we birth and high nobilitie If then the minde and bodie reape reward For natures dowre conferred liberally Presse then for praise vnto the highest roome That art the highest of the gifts of heauen More beautifull by wisdomes sacred doome Than Sol himselfe amid the Planets seauen Queene of content and temperate desires Choice nurse of health thy name hight Chastitie A soueraigne powre to quench such climing fires As choake the minde with smoke of infamie Champion at armes re'ncounter with thy foe An enimie foule and fearfull to behold If then stout captaines haue bene honor'd so Their names in bookes of memorie enrold For puissant strength ye Romane peeres retire And Greeks giue ground more honor there is woon With chaste rebukes to temper thy desire Than glory gaind the world to ouer run Than fierce Achilles got by Hectors spoyle Than erst the mightie prince of Macedon King Philips impe that put his foes to foyle And wisht more worlds to hold him plaie than one Beleeue me to contend ' gainst armies royall To tame wilde Panthers but by strength of hand To praise the triumph not so speciall As ticing pleasures charmes for to withstand And for me list compare with men of war For honor of the field I dare maintaine This victory exceedeth that as far As Phoebus chariot Vulcans forge doth staine Both noble and triumphant in their kindes And matter woorthie queene Remembrance pen But that that tangles both our thoughts and mindes To master that is more than ouer men To make thy triumph Sith to strength alone Of body it belongs to bruze or wound But raging thoughts to quell or few or none Saue vertues imps are able champions found Or those whom Ioue hath lou'd or noble of birth So strong Alcydes Ioues vnconquered son Did lift Achelous bodie from the earth To shew what deeds by vertues strength are don So him he foild and put to sudden flight By aime of wit the foule Stimphalides And while we say he mastered men by might Behold in person of this Hercules It liketh me to figure Chastitie His labor like that foule vncleane desire That vnder guide of tickling fantasie Would mar the minde through pleasures scorching fire And who hath seene a faire alluring face A lustie girle y clad in queint aray Whose daintie hand makes musicke with hir lace And tempts thy thoughts and steales thy sense away Whose ticing haire like nets of golden wyre Enchaine thy hart whose gate and voice diuine Enflame thy blood and kindle thy desire Whose features wrap and dazle humaine eine Who hath beheld faire Venus in hir pride Of nakednes all Alablaster white In Iuorie bed strait laid by Mars his side And hath not bin enchanted with the sight To wish to dallie and to offer game To coy to court caetera to doe Forgiue me Chastnes if in termes of shame To thy renowne I paint what longs thereto Who hath not liu'd and yet hath seene I say That might offend chaste hearers to endure Who hath bene haled on to touch and play And yet not stowpt to pleasures wanton lure Crowne him with laurell for his victorie Clad him in purple and in scarlet die Enroll his name in bookes of memorie Ne let the honor of his conquest die More roiall in his triumph than the man Whom tygres drew in coach of burnisht golde In whom the Roman Monarchie began Whose works of worth no wit hath erst controlde Elysium be his walke high heauen his shrine His drinke sweete Nectar and Ambrosia The foode that makes immortall and diuine Be his to taste to make him liue for ay And that I may in briefe describe his due What lasting honor vertues guerdon is So much and more his iust desart pursue Sith his desart awards it to be his LENVOY To thee in honor of whose gouernment Entitled is this praise of Chastitie My gentle friend these hastie lines are ment So flowreth vertue like the laurell tree Immortall greene that euere eie may see And well was Daphne turnd into the bay Whose chastnes triumphes growes liues for ay An excellent Dialogue betweene Constancie and Inconstancie as it was by speech presented to hir Maiestie in the last Progresse at sir Henrie Leighes house Constancie MOst excellent shall I say Lady or Goddesse whom I should enuie to be but a Lady and can not denie to haue the power of a Goddesse vouchsafe to accept the humble thankfulnes of vs lately distressed Ladies the pride of whose wits was iustly punished with the inconstancie of our wits whereby we were caried to

death Loe thus I liue but looking still to die And still I looke but still I see in vaine And still in vaine alas I lie and crie And still I crie but haue no ease of paine So still in paine I liue looke lie and crie When hope would helpe or death would let me die Sometime I sleepe a slumber not a sleepe And then I dreame God knowes of no delight But of such woes as makes me lie and weepe Vntill I wake in such a pitious plight As who beheld me sleeping or awaking Would say my hart were in a heauie taking Looke as the dew doth lie vpon the ground So sits the sweate of sorow on my face Oh deadly dart that strooke so deepe a wound Oh hatefull hap to hit in such a place The hart is hurt and bleedes the bodie ouer Yet cannot die nor euer health recouer Then he or she that hath a happie hand To helpe a hart that hath no hope to liue Come come with speede and do not staying stand But if no one can any comfort giue Run to the Church and bid the Sexton toule A solemne knell yet for a filie soule Harke how it sounds that sorrow lasteth long Long long long long long long and longer yet Oh cruell death thou doost me double wrong To let me lie so long in such a fit Yet when I die write neighbors where I lie Long was I dead ere death would let me die THese lines I send by waues of woe And bale becomes my boate Which sighes of sorowes still shall keepe On floods of feare afloate My sighes shall serue me still for winde My lading is my smart And true report my pilot is My hauen is thy hart My keele is fram'd of crabbed care My ribs are all of ruthe My planks are nothing else but plants With treenailes ioinde with truthe My maine mast made of nought but mone My tackling trickling teares And Topyard like a troubled minde A flagge of follie beares My Cable is a constant hart My Anckor luckles Loue Which Reasons Capstones from the ground Of griefe can not remoue My Decks are all of deepe disgrace My Compas discontent And perill is my Northern Pole And death my Orient My Saylers are my sorowing thoughts The Boateswane bitter sence The Master miserie his mate Is dolefull diligence Sir W. H. FEede still thy selfe thou fondling with beliefe Go hunt thy hope that neuer tooke effect Accuse the wrongs that oft hath wrought thy griefe And reckon sure where reason would suspect Dwell in the dreames of wish and vaine desire Pursue the faith that flies and seekes to new Run after hopes that mocke thee with retire And looke for loue where liking neuer grew Deuise conceits to ease thy carefull hart Trust vpon times and daies of grace behinde Presume the rights of promise and desart And measure loue by thy beleeuing minde Force thy affects that spite doth daily chace Winke at the wrongs with wilfull ouersight See not the soyle and staine of thy disgrace Nor recke disdaine to doate on thy delite And when thou seest the end of thy reward And these effects ensue of thine assault When rashnes rues that reason should regard Yet still accuse thy fortune for the fault And crie O Loue O death O vaine desire When thou complainst the heate feeds the fire MY first borne loue vnhappily conceiued Brought foorth in paine christened with a curse Die in your Infancie of life bereaued By your cruell nurse Restlesse desire from my Loue that proceeded Leaue to be and seeke your heauen by dieng Since you O you your owne hope haue exceeded By too hie flieng And you my words my harts faithfull expounders No more offer your Iewell vnesteemed Since those eies my Loues life and liues confounders Your woorth misdeemed Loue leaue to desire words leaue it to vtter Swell on my thoughts till you breake that contains you My complaints in those deafe eares no more mutter That so disdaines you And you careles of me that without feeling With drie eies behold my Tragedie smiling Decke your proude triumphes with your poore slaues yeelding To his owne spoyling But if that wrong or holy truth dispised To iust reuenge the heauens euer moued So let hir loue and so be still denied Who she so loued THe brainsicke race that wanton youth ensues Without regard to grounded wisdomes lore As often as I thinke thereon renues The fresh remembrance of an ancient sore Reuoking to my pensiue thoughts at last The worlds of wickednes that I haue past And though experience bids me bite on bit And champe the bridle of a better smacke Yet costly is the price of after wit Which brings so cold repentance at hir backe And skill that's with so many losses bought Men say is little better worth than nought And yet this fruit I must confesse doth growe Of follies scourge that though I now complaine Of error past yet henceforth I may knowe To shun the whip that threats the like againe For wise men though they smart a while had leuer To learne experience at the last than neuer THose eies which set my fancie on a fire Those crisped haires which hold my hart in chains Those daintie hands which conquer'd my desire That wit which of my thoughts doth hold the rains Those eies for cleernes doe the starrs surpas Those haires obscure the brightnes of the Sunne Those hands more white than euer Iuorie was That wit euen to the skies hath glorie woon O eies that pearce our harts without remorse O haires of right that weares a roiall crowne O hands that conquer more than Caesars force O wit that turns huge kingdoms vpside downe Then Loue be Iudge what hart may thee withstand Such eies such haire such wit and such a hand PRaisd be Dianas faire and harmles light Praisd be the dewes wherwith she moists the ground Praisd be hir beames the glorie of the night Praisd be hir powre by which all powres abound Praisd be hir Nimphs with whom she decks the woods Praisd be hir knights in whom true honor liues Praisd be that force by which she moues the floods Let that Diana shine which all these giues In heauen Queene she is among the spheares In ay she Mistres like makes all things pure Eternitie in hir oft chaunge she beares She beautie is by hir the faire endure Time weares hir not she doth his chariot guide Mortalitie belowe hir orbe is plaste By hir the vertue of the starrs downe slide In hir is vertues perfect image cast A knowledge pure it is hir worth to kno With Circes let them dwell that thinke not so LIke to a Hermite poore in place obscure I meane to spend my daies of endles doubt To waile such woes as time cannot recure Where none but Loue shall euer finde me out My foode shall be of care and sorow made My drink nought else but teares falne from mine eies And for my light in such obscured shade The flames

of Iealousie A Seeing friend yet enimie to rest A wrangling passion yet a gladsom thought A bad companion yet a welcom guest A knowledge wisht yet found too soone vnsought From heauen supposde yet sure condemn'd to hell Is Iealousie and there forlorne doth dwell And thence doth send fond feare and false suspect To haunt our thoughts bewitched with mistrust Which breedes in vs the issue and effect Both of conceits and actions far vniust The griefe the shame the smart wherof doth proue That Iealousie's both death and hell to Loue. For what but hell moues in the iealous hart Where restles feare works out all wanton ioyes Which doth both quench and kill the louing part And cloies the minde with worse than knowne annoyes Whose pressure far exceeds hells deepe extreemes Such life leads Loue entangled with misdeemes AH poore Conceit delite is dead Thy pleasant daies are doon The shadie dales must be his walke That cannot see the sunne The world I now to witnes call The heauens my records be If euer I were false to Loue Or Loue were true to me I knowe it now I knew it not But all too late I rew it I rew not that I knew it not But that I euer knew it My care is not a fond conceit That breedes a fained smart My griefes doe gripe me at the gall And gnaw me at the hart My teares are not those fained drops That fall from fancies eies But bitter streams of strange distresse Wherein discomfort lies My sighes are not those heauie sighes That showes a sickly breath My passions are the perfect signes And very paines of death In sum to make a dolefull end To see my death so nie That sorow bids me sing my last And so my senses die SHort is my rest whose toile is ouerlong My ioyes are darke but cleere I see my voe My safetie small great wracks I bide by wrong Whose time is swift and yet my hap but sloe Each griefe and wound in my poore hart appeeres That laugheth howres and weepeth many yeeres Deedes of the day are fables for the night Sighes of desire are smoakes of thoughtfull teares My steps are false although my paths be right Disgrace is bolde and fauor full of feares Disquiet sleepe keepes audit of my life Where rare content doth make displeasure rife The dolefull bell that is the voice of time Cals on my end before my haps be seene Thus fals my hopes whose harmes haue power to clime Not come to haue that long in wish hath beene I seeke your loue and feare not others hate Be you with me and I haue Caesars state The praise of Virginitie VIrginitie resembleth right the Rose That gallantly within the garden growes Whilst in the mothers bodie it doth stand Of nibling sheep vntoucht or shepherds hand The aire thereon and ruddie morne doth smile The earth and waters fauours it that while Braue lustie youth and the inamord Dame Euen so doth age and temples craue the same But when from naturall stalke it is remou'd And place where it so highly was belou'd The grace that earth and heauen thereon did cast With beautie fauor loue and all is past Euen so the Maid when once hir flowre is lost More deere than eie or life or what is most The loue and liking which she had before Forgoeth quite and she esteem'd no more Ladies Lenuoy to you that haue this prize I reed ye hold your wone if yiou be wise ONight O ielious night repugnant to my pleasures O night so long desir'd yet crosse to my content Ther's none but onely thou that can performe my pleasures Yet none but onely thou that hindereth my intent Thy beams thy spiteful beams thy lamps that burn to brightly Discouer all my traines and naked lay my drifts That night by night I hope yet faile my purpose nightly Thy enuious glaring gleame defeateth so my shifts Sweet night withhold thy beams withhold them til to morow Whose ioyes in lack so long a hell of torments breedes Sweete night sweete gentle night doe not prolong my sorow Desire is guide to me and Loue no Loadstar needes Let Sailers gaze on stars and Moone so freshly shining Let them that misse the way be guided by the light I knowe my Ladies bowre there needes no more diuining Affection sees in darke and Loue hath eies by night Dame Cinthia couch awhile holde in thy hornes for shining And glad not lowring night with thy too glorious raies But be she dim and darke tempestuous and repining That in hir spite my sport may worke thy endles praise And when my will is wrought then Cinthia shine good Ladie All other nights and daies in honour of that night That happie heauenly night that night so darke and shadie Wherein my Loue had eies that lighted my delight SWeete Violets Loues paradice that spred Your gracious odours which you couched beare Within your palie faces Vpon the gentle wing of some calme breathing winde That plaies amidst the plaine If by the fauour of propicious stars you gaine Such grace as in my Ladies bosome place to finde Be prowd to touch those places And whē hir warmth your moisture forth doth wear Whereby hir daintie parts are sweetly fed Your honors of the flowrie meads I pray You pretie daughters of the earth and Sun With milde and seemly breathing straight display My bitter sighes that haue my hart vndoon Vermilion Roses that with new daies rise Display your Crimsen folds fresh looking faire Whose radiant bright disgraces The rich adorned raies of Roseat rising morne Ah if hir virgins hand Doe pluck your pure ere Phoebus view the land And vaile your gracious pomp in louely natures scorne If chaunce my Mistres traces Fast by your flowres to take the Sommers aire Then wofull blushing tempt hir glorious eies To spread their teares Adonis death reporting And tell Loues torments sorowing for hir frend Whose drops of blood within your leaus cōsorting Report faire Venus mones withouten end Then may remorse in pitying of my smart Drie vp my teares and dwell within hir hart A Vrora now began to rise againe From watrie couch and from old Tithons side In hope to kisse vpon Acteian plaine Yong Cephalus and through the golden glide On Easterne coast she cast so great a light That Phoebus thought it time to make retire From Thetis Bowre wherein he spent the night To light the world againe with heauenly fire Nor sooner gan his winged steedes to chase The Stigian night mantled with duskie vale But poore Amyntas hasteth him apace In desarts thus to weepe a wofull tale Now silent shades and all that dwell therein As Birds or Beasts or Wormes that creepe on grounde Dispose your selues to teares while I begin To rew the griefe of mine eternall wounde And dolefull ghosts whose nature flies the light Come seate your selues with me on eu'ry side And whilst I die for want of my delight Lament the woes that Fancie me betide Phillis is dead the marke

eternall be And liue by vertue of his inke For by his verses he doth giue To short liude beautie aye to liue Aboue all others this is hee Which erst approoued in his song That loue and honor might agree And that pure loue will doe no wrong Sweete saints it is no sinne nor blame To loue a man of vertuous name Did neuer loue so sweetly breath In any mortall brest before Did neuer muse inspire beneath A Poets braine with finer store He wrote of loue with high conceit And beautie reard aboue hir height Then Pallas afterward attyrde Our Astrophill with hir deuice Whom in his armor heauen admyrde As of the nation of the skies He sparkled in his armes afarrs As he were dight with fierie starrs The blaze whereof when Mars beheld An enuious eie doth see afar Such maiestie quoth he is seeld Such maiestie my mart may mar Perhaps this may a suter be To set Mars by his deitie In this surmize he made with speede An iron cane wherein he put The thunder that in cloudes do breede The flame and bolt togither shut With priuie force burst out againe And so our Astrophill was slaine This word was slaine straightway did moue And natures inward life strings twitch The skie immediately aboue Was dimd with hideous clouds of pitch The wrastling winds from out the ground Fild all the aire with ratling sound The bending trees exprest a grone And sigh'd the sorow of his fall The forrest beasts made ruthfull mone The birds did tune their mourning call And Philomell for Astrophill Vnto hir notes annext a phill The turtle doue with tunes of ruthe Shewd feeling passion of his death Me thought she said I tell thee truthe Was neuer he that drew in breath Vnto his loue more trustie found Than he for whom our griefs abound The swan that was in presence heere Began his funerall dirge to sing Good things quoth he may scarce appeere But passe away with speedie wing This mortall life as death is tride And death giues life and so he di'de The generall sorrow that was made Among the creatures of kinde Fired the Phoenix where she laide Hir ashes flying with the winde So as I might with reason see That such a Phoenix nere should bee Haply the cinders driuen about May breede an ofspring neere that kinde But hardly a peere to that I doubt It cannot sinke into my minde That vnder branches ere can bee Of worth and value as the tree The Egle markt with pearcing sight The mournfull habite of the place And parted thence with mounting flight To signifie to Ioue the case What sorow nature doth sustaine For Astrophill by enuie slaine And while I followed with mine eie The flight the Egle vpward tooke All things did vanish by and by And disappeered from my looke The trees beasts birds and groue was gone So was the friend that made this mone This spectacle had firmely wrought A deepe compassion in my spright My molting hart issude me thought In streames foorth at mine eies aright And heere my pen is forst to shrinke My teares discollors so mine inke An Epitaph vpon the right Honorable sir Philip Sidney knight Lord gouernor of Flushing TO praise thy life or waile thy woorthie death And want thy wit thy wit high pure diuine Is far beyond the powre of mortall line Nor any one hath worth that draweth breath Yet rich in zeale though poore in learnings lore And friendly care obscurde in secret brest And loue that enuie in thy life supprest Thy deere life done and death hath doubled more And I that in thy time and liuing state Did onely praise thy vertues in my thought As one that seeld the rising sunne hath sought With words and teares now waile thy timelesse fate Drawne was thy race aright from princely line Nor lesse than such by gifts that nature gaue The common mother that all creatures haue Doth vertue shew and princely linage shine A king gaue thee thy name a kingly minde That God thee gaue who found it now too deere For this base world and hath resumde it neere To sit in skies and sort with powres diuine Kent thy birth daies and Oxford held thy youth The heauens made haste staide nor yeeres nor time The fruits of age grew ripe in thy first prime Thy will thy words thy words the seales of truth Great gifts and wisedome rare imploide thee thence To treat from kings with those more great than kings Such hope men had to lay the highest things On thy wise youth to be transported hence Whence to sharpe wars sweete honor did thee call Thy countries loue religion and thy friends Of woorthy men the marks the liues and ends And her defence for whom we labor all There didst thou vanquish shame and tedious age Griefe sorow sicknes and base fortunes might Thy rising day saw neuer wofull night But past with praise from of this worldly stage Backe to the campe by thee that day was brought First thine owne death and after thy long fame Teares to the soldiers the proud Castilians shame Vertue exprest and honor truly taught What hath he lost that such great grace hath woon Yoong yeeres for endles yeeres and hope vnsure Of fortunes gifts for wealth that still shall dure Oh happie race with so great praises run England doth hold thy lims that bred the same Flaunders thy valure where it last was tried The Campe thy sorow where thy bodie died Thy friends thy want the world thy vertues fame Nations thy wit our mindes lay vp thy loue Letters thy learning thy losse yeeres long to come In worthy harts sorow hath made thy tombe Thy soule and spright enrich the heauens aboue Thy liberall hart imbalmd in gratefull teares Yoong sighes sweete sighes sage sighes bewaile thy fall Enuie hir sting and spite hath left hir gall Malice hir selfe a mourning garment weares That day their Haniball died our Scipio fell Scipio Cicero and Petrarch of our time Whose vertues wounded by my woorthles rime Let Angels speake and heauens thy praises tell Another of the same Excellently written by a most woorthy Gentleman SIlence augmenteth griefe writing encreaseth rage Stald are my thoughts which lou'd lost the wonder of our age Yet quickned now with fire though dead with frost ere now Enrag'de I write I know not what dead quick I know not how Hard harted mindes relent and rigors teares abound And enuie strangely rues his end in whom no fault she found Knowledge hir light hath lost valor hath slaine hir knight Sidney is dead dead is my friend dead is the worlds delight Place pensiue wailes his fall whose presence was hir pride Time crieth out my ebbe is come his life was my spring tide Fame mournes in that she lost the ground of hir reports Ech liuing wight laments his lacke and all in sundry sorts He was wo worth that word to ech well thinking minde A spotlesse friend a matchles man whose vertue euer shinde Declaring in his