Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	work_n	write_v	yield_v	23	3	6.7056	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A65458	An epistle to a friend concerning poetry by Samuel Wesley.	Wesley, Samuel, 1662-1735.	1700 (1700)	Wing W1370; ESTC R33581	21,447	33

decay Let those of greater Genius new invent Be you with those in Common Use content A different Style 's for Prose and Verse requir'd Strong Figures here Neat Plainness there desir'd A different Set of Words to both belong What shines in Prose is flat and mean in Song The Turn the Numbers must be vary'd here And all things in a different Dress appear This every School-Boy lash'd at Eaton knows Yet Men of Sense forget when they compose And Father DRYDEN'S Lines are somtimes Prose A vary'd Stile do various Works require This soft as Air and tow'ring that as Fire None than th' Epistle goes more humbly drest Tho neat 't wou'd be and decent as the best Such as th' ingenious Censor may invite Oft to return with eager Appetite So HORACE wrote and so I 'd wish to write Nor creeps it always but can mount and rise And with bold Pinions sail along the Skies The self-same Work of different Style admits Now soft now loud as best the Matter fits So Father THAMES from unexhausted Veins Moves clear and equable along the Plains Yet still of different Depth and Breadth is found And humours still the Nature of the Ground READING will mend your Style Reading and raise it higher And Matter find to feed th' Immortal Fire But if you would the Vulgar Herd excel And justly gain the Palm of Writing well Wast not your Lamp in scanning Vulgar Lines Where groveling all or One in twenty shines With Prudence first among the Antients chuse The noblest only and the best peruse Such HOMER is such VIRGIL'S sacred Page Which Death defie nor yield to Time or Age New Beauties still their Vigorous Works display Their Fruit still mellows but can ne'er decay The Modern Pens not altogether slight Be Master of your Language e'er you write Immortal TILLOTSON with Judgment scan That Man of Praise that something more than Man Ev'n those who hate his Ashes this advise As from black Shades resplendent Lightning flies Unwilling Truths break through a Cloud of Lies He Words and Things for mutual Aid design'd Before at Variance in just Numbers join'd He always soars but never's out of sight He taught us how to Speak and Think and Write If English Verse you'd in Perfection see ROSCOMMON read and Noble NORMANBY We borrow all from their exhaustless Store Or little say they have not said before Poor Insects of a Day we toil and strive To creep from Dust to Dust and think we live These weak imperfect Beings scarce enjoy E'er Death's rude Hand our blooming Hopes destroy With Lynx's Eyes each others Faults we find But to our own how few who are not blind How long is Art how short alas our Time How few who can above the Vulgar climb Whose stronger Genius reach the True Sublime With tedious Rules which we our selves transgress We make the Trouble more who strive to make it less But meanly why do you your Fate deplore Yet still write on Why do a Thousand more Who for their own or some Forefathers Crime Are doom'd to wear their Days in beating Rhime But this a Noble Patron will redress And make you better write tho you write less Whate'er a discontented Mind pretends Distinguish'd Worth can rarely miss of Friends Do but excel and he 'll at last arise Who from the Dust may lift thee to the Skies For his own Sake will his Protection grant What Horace e'er did yet Mecaenas want Or if the World its Favours should refuse With barren Smiles alone reward thy Muse Be thy own Patron thou no more wilt need For all will court thee if thy Works succeed At least the few Good Iudges will commend And secret growing Praise thy Steps attend Who shew'd Columbus where the Indies lay True to thy self charge through and force to Fame the way If Envy snarl indulge it no Reply Write better still and let it burst and die Rest pleas'd if you can please the Wiser Few Since to please all is more than Heav'n it self can do There are who can whate'er they will believe That B 's too hard for B y Three are Five That Nature Justice Reason Truth must fall With Clear Idea's they 'll confound 'em all That Parallels may travel till they meet Faith they can find in L no Sense in STILLINGFLEET Disturb 'em not but let 'em still enjoy Th' unenvy'd Charms of their Eternal Moi If to the craggy Top of Fame you rise Those who are lab'ring after ne'er despise Nor those above on Honour's dazling Seat Tho disoblig'd with sawcy Rudeness treat Revenge not always is below the Great Their Stronger Genius may o'er thine prevail Wit Power and Anger join'd but rarely fail Tho Eagles would not chuse to hawk at Flies They'd snap 'em should their buzzing Swarms arise Importunate and hurt their Sun bright Eyes Nor should the Muses Birds at random fly And strike at all lest if they strike they die Why should we still be lazily content With thredbare Schemes and nothing new invent All Arts besides improve Sea Air and Land Are every day with nicer Iudgment scan'd And why should this alone be at a stand Or Nature largely to the Ancients gave And little did for younger Children save Or rather we impartial Nature blame To hide our Sloth and cover o'er our Shame As Sinners when their Reason's drown'd in Sense Fall out with Heav'n and quarrel Providence Yet should you our Galenic Way despise And some new Colbatch of the Muses rise No Quarter from the College hope who sit Infallible at Will 's and judg of Sense and Wit Keep fair with these or Fame you court in vain A strict Neutrality at least maintain Speak like the wise Italian well of all Who knows into what Hands he 's doom'd to fall Write oft and much at first if you 'd write well For he who ne'er attempts will ne'er excel Practice will file your Verse your Thoughts refine And Beauty give and Grace to every Line The Gnat to fam'd AEneis led the way And our Immortal COWLEY once did play Let not the Sun of Life in vain decline Or Time run waste No Day without a Line Yet learn by me my Friend from Errors past O never write or never Print in Haste The worst Excuse Ill Authors e'er advance Which does like Lies a single Guilt enhance Lay by your Work and leave it on the Loom Which if at mod'rate distance you resume A Father's Fondness you 'll with Ease look through And Objects in a proper Medium view 'T is Time alone can Strength and Ripeness give A Hasty Birth can ne'er expect to live Fly low at first you 'll with Advantage rise This pleases all as that will all surprize The Subject No Work attempt but where your Strength you know Be Master of your Subject Thoughts will flow The newer 't is the choicer Fruit 't will yield More Room you have to work if large your Field The Sponge you oftner than the Pen