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	wound_n	young_a	48	3	5.7096	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A04306	Pietas in patrem, or a few teares vpon the lamented death of his most deare, and loving father Richard Barlow late of Langill in VVestmooreland, who dyed December 29. Ann. 1636. By Thomas Barlow Master of Arts, Fellow of Queenes Coll. in Oxon and eldest sonne of his deceased father.	Barlow, Thomas, 1607-1691.	1637 (1637)	STC 1441A; ESTC S114793	7,728	20

celestiall Quire of Angels then The further company of sinfull men Thou hadst alas Alas my mazed woe Begin's againe to wish thee here below Nay rest blest soule 't will be the better way That wee strive to come to thee and thou stay Herein thy death us benefit's that wee Now long the more for heaven to be with thee Tho Smith Artium Bac. Coll. Reginae Oxon Alumnus To the sad memory of his late deceased deare father Richard Barlow WHere shall I first begin or if I lend My griefe a tongue where shall I make an end Mee-thinkes those farewell-teares which lately I Spy'd trickling from your eyes teach mee to cry Mee-thinkes even that last blessing which you gave Seem's a curse 'cause the last that I must have Had I beene present when your feaver came And burning fits my teares had quench't that flame Had I beene present Oh let mee here pause T' expostulate tell me what was the cause That then I was dismiss'd was it that I Might practice here to write an Elegie To pen your Epitaph nay was 't not rather 'Cause thus you would provide me of a father Oh but such tokens of your providence Whiles they should cure my wound renew the sense Griefe strikes me dumbe for want of wordes and art I 'le teach my eyes to speake the other part George Barlow youngest sonne of his deceased father Vpon the much lamented death of R. B. HEE 's dead and must we therefore grieve and mourne 'T were to repine that ever he was borne When weake old age doth gently fall asleepe 'T is foule ingratitude to cry and weepe Let tender wither'd plants deserve our teares Which dead our forward hopes of fruitfull yeares Which quickly taken off and onely knowne Are in a minute lopt as soone as showne Here 't is not so full distance sure and meete His swathings sunders from his winding sheete Oh not on thy deare hearse or thy fresh dust Powre we these teares As if here death unjust Had wrong'd thee in exalting thee and bin Unmercifull that from these times of sin Hath free'd thy longing soule Alas wee know 'T was time for thee for heaven long agoe 'T is for our sakes we weepe for whom God stay'd And held thy soule off and this burden lay'd Of a long life upon thee that so wee Might by thy stay be drawne for companie That now are punisht in thy blisse and see Gods wrath to us in being good to thee To us thou still dyest young and this thy slight Seemes earely taken though not ta'ne till night To our desires alas what 's one short span Whole natures date for want of thee good man Whom many dayes and yeares yea no time could Make tedious to us whom no age make old But is he dead then true nay false it is He did not dye that in eternall blisse For life of comfort chang'd but lifes annoy And thus he dyed and thus he lives in joy Hee dyed in shew then but yet lives indeed In heaven and hearts of good men Dy'd to speed Of glory here and in that surer place To weare a crowne of ever living grace Then dye hee never can while vertue lives For He and She are still correlatives Sic deflevit Thomas Cleburne Art Bac. Coll. Reg. Alumnus Vpon the much lamented death of the truly religious Richard Barlow IS 't you most dreadfull powers ye sisters three That doe unlace each mortall arterie That shiver sinewes rending every veine Divorcing soule and body cut in twaine This Microcosme yea brag not tho one can Rebuild ô blisse that curious frame of man And raise from out our common mothers lap Our drowsie corps after a winters nap Let 's wade with pen or in a watrish ray Or at least sigh a word he 's dead the day Is shut up in a shade whose brightest beames Did shine on many hence now flow these streames Of brackish water to put out our light And spreades the curtaines of the darkesome night Let 's rest content he heavenly joyes doth gaine He liv'd to dye and dy'd to live againe Farewell blest Saint crown'd with eternall fame Though rapt by death wee 'l honour still thy name Lancelot Dawes Coll. Reginae Alumnus An Elegie upon the lamented death of Richard Barlow late of Langill in VVestmooreland WHat have not yet your daily cryes Melted the cloudes and caus'd the skyes To beare a sympathie hard rockes would split To smallest atomes hearing us To sing our dolefull mittimus When vertue for a crowne a tombe doth get But 't is not sighs will serve the turne Come pay thy rites unto an urne Sad muse let eccho tell each wall Hee clipt thy wings nor blush to heare That heaven lyes above thy spheare 'T will prove a prejudice to rise then fall Sleepe on blest soule eternitie Shall straine thy sweetest lullabie Let envie with her brood neere cease to fret Triumph in peace no gnawing care Can with such glory beare a share Looke downe and laugh how farre above thou' rt set Mee-thinkes I view the wreathes of bay Thy endlesse conquest to display And how those dazling coronets fit a head So well deserving but I faile To lend thy name a swifter gale For what needes more thou liv'st for ever dead Another that he died a little after Christmasse-day WHen Simeon saw his Saviour hee cryes Lord 't is enough shut up my weary eyes When our late Simeon got a fuller view Of his transcendent light hee bade adiew Amoric officii ergò Tho Tullius Coll. Reg. Alumnus Vpon the lamented death of Richard Barlow late of Langill in VVestmooreland who dyed December 29. 1636. his sicknes beginning with a cold and shortly after he and it ending with a fever WIthin the bowels of this sacred earth Lyes one as of no high so no vile birth His fortunes like to vertue kept the meane Not puff'd with this nor pinch'd with that extreame When he in peace had threescore yeares drawne breath Belov'd as farre as knowne nature not death With solemne joy ceas'd on him as a price Glad she for heaven had such a sacrifice Flames are to others tortures but they come To him as triumph or a martyrdome He like Elias round begirt with fire Ascended heaven flames must needs aspire His fever had not heat from surfet passion Or lust the three inflamers now in fashion But as the purest fire the Chimicks hold Is forc'd from ice was kindled with a cold Had it beene rage of common heat no doubt But his deare childrens teares had put it out Although he doe in sixe * faire Emblems stand Transcrib'd to future ages yet this land The heat of his death generating shall See that he multiplyed at 's funerall The good example of his life and fate Shall happ'ly all the vertues propagate L. N. 〈◊〉 To the Reader I Am no Poët nor ever sent I verse Unto the presse this onely to the herse Of my deare father not to shew my skill Or veine in Poëtry but t' expresse a will Prone to my fathers honour though to me Nothing redound but shame and infamy I feare no censure nay some may approve If not my slender Poetry my love To my deare father whom the muses shall Preserve alive in spite of 's funerall And all deaths cruelty by them shall he Live in the hearts and dearest memo●● Of all his friends this blessing he●●hall have To free him from forgetfulnesse and th' grave Sic flevit THOMAS BARLOW charissimi Patris defuncti filius aetate dolore maximus FINIS 1 〈…〉 2 〈…〉 6. * 〈…〉