Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	world_n	year_n	yield_v	103	3	6.7610	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A12605	Pandora, the musyque of the beautie, of his mistresse Diana. Composed by Iohn Soowthern Gentleman, and dedicated to the right Honorable, Edward Deuer, Earle of Oxenford, &c. 1584. Iune. 20	Southern, John, fl. 1584.	1584 (1584)	STC 22928; ESTC S111056	12,018	31

dolefull arrow Next Into a Swan and with a note of sorrowe I foresong my death in Elegicall arte Since that to a Flowre and since withred away Since that to a Fountaine and since I am drie And now that Salamander liue in my flame But ye Gods if euer I haue my owne choyce I wyll be turn'd into well singing voyce And there in louange the fayre eyes of Ma-dame Ode 2. to his Diana Strophe AS the little Melisset flyes Wanton enfantines of the Skyes With their théeuishe pretie tongettes Take the best of the fayrest blomes Masoning it on their thyettes And therewith build their honny commes Euenso with a sprite vigelant I robbe héere the most excellant Blossomes in the garden Thebêin And will that through the vniuerce The honny destyld in my verce Beare out these fayre gréene eies of thine And I will that our England sée By this Nectar that I let fall On thee to annoint thee with all What kinde of beauties are in thée Antistrophe All the superbus frontispisses And all the threatning ediffices And all the high buildinges are lost Of Corinthia in pride extréeme But that which their Poets did bost will euer triumph ouer tyme. I I golde is Eliths Palase And golde is the Church of Parnasse And those that can enter therein Happy are they and euer shall Treade on the blacke roofe enfernall Liuing with the enfant Troyen That fylles the Nectar Olympien Into the great coope of the God that thondred the menacing head Of the high Orgullus Phlegren What what my too cruell Diana A number haue excelde in Beautae And yet it is onelie Hellina That lyues and where in saue in Poisae Epode But thou for whome I writ so well And that I wyll make eternell And thou for whome my holie paines Dooth chase ignoraunce held so long Conioyning in a vulgar song The secretes both Gréekes and Lataines Think'st thou it is nothing to haue The penne of Soothern for thy trompet Yes yes to whome Soothern is Poëte The honour goes not to the graue And Iuno it 's an other thing To heare a well learned voice sing Or to sée workes of a wise hand Then it 's to heare our doting rimors Whose labours doo bring both dishonors To themselues and to our England FINIS ❧ Foure Epytaphes made by the Countes of Oxenford after the death of her young Sonne The Lord Bulbecke c. HAd with moorning the Gods left their willes vndon They had not so soone herited such a soule Or if the mouth tyme dyd not glotton vp all Nor I nor the world were depriu'd of my Sonne Whose brest Venus with a face dolefull and milde Dooth washe with golden teares inueying the skies And when the water of the Goddesses eyes Makes almost aliue the Marble of my Childe One hyds her leaue styll her dollor so extreme Telling her it is not her young sonne Papheme To which she makes aunswer with a voice inflamed Féeling therewith her venime to be more bitter As I was of Cupid euen so of it mother And a womans last chylde is the most beloued An other IN dolefull wayes I spend the wealth of my time Gold the best of all mettelles Nightingale the sweetest of all byrdes And Roses the fairest of all flowers Féeding on my heart that euer comes agen Since the ordinaunce of the Destin's hath ben To end of the Saissons of my yéeres the prime With my Sōne my Gold my Nightingale and Rose Is gone for t' was in him and no other where And well though mine eies run downe like fountaines here The stone wil not speak yet that doth it inclose And Destins and Gods you might rather haue tanne My twentie yéeres then the two daies of my sonne And of this world what shall I hope since I knoe That in his respect it can yéeld me but mosse Or what should I consume any more in woe When Destins Gods and worlds are ll in my losse An other THe heuens death and life haue coniured my yll For death hath take away the breath of my sonne The heuens receue and consent that be hath donne And my life dooth kéepe mée heere against my will But if our life be caus'de with moisture and heate I care neither for the death the life nor skyes For I 'll sigh him warmth and weat him with my eies And thus I shall be thought a second Promët And as for life let it doo me all despite For if it leaue me I shall goe to my childe And it in the heuens there is all my delyght And if I liue my vertue is immortall So that the heuens death and life when they doo all Their force by sorrowfull vertue th' are beguild An other I Dall for Adon neu'r shed so many teares Nor Thet ' for Pelid nor Phoebus for Hyacinthus Nor for Atis the mother of Prophetesses As for the death of Bulbecke the Gods haue cares At the brute of it the Aphroditan Quéene Caused more siluer to distyll fro her eyes Then when the droppes of her chéekes raysed Daisyes And to die with him mortall she would haue béene The Charits for it breake their Peruqs of golde The Muses and the Nymphes of Caues I beholde All the Gods vnder Olympus are constraint On Laches Clothon and Atropos to plaine And yet beautie for it dooth make no complaint For it liu'd with him and died with him againe ¶ Others of the fowre last lynes of other that she made also 11 My Sonne is gone and with it death end my sorrow 12 But death makes mee aunswere Madame cease these mones 13 My force is but on bodies of blood and bones 14 And that of yours is no more now but a shadow An other 11 Amphiôns wife was turned to a rocke O 12 How well I had béene had I had such aduenture 13 For then I might againe haue béene the Sepulcure 14 Of him that I bare in mée so long ago FINIS Epitaph made by the Queenes Maiestie at the death of the Princesse of Espinoye WHen the warrier Phoebus goth to make his round With a painefull course to too ther Hemisphêre A darke shadowe a great horror and a feare In I knoe not what clowdes inueron the ground And euen so for Pinoy that fayre vertues Lady Although Iupiter haue in this Orizôn Made a starre of her by the Ariadnan crowne Morns dolour and gréefe accompany our body O Atropos thou hast doone a worke per-uerst And as a byrde that hath lost both young and nest About the place where it was makes many a tourne Euen so dooth Cupid that infaunt God of amore Flie about the tombe where she lyes all in dolore Wéeping for her eies wherein he made soiourne FINIS ❧ Verses taken out of his Stanses Hymnes and Elegias all dedicated or sent to his Mistresse Diana Elegia IN which you ask't my name confesse your selfe if 't be not so And whether I before had euer béene in loue or no. My name

teares of my eyes that fall héere like riuers But in some thinges fabelons you must be content To see what it is of vs Louers the flame And reade you must vnder a Goddesses name Of your beates the delycate ornament And where as these which are to apayse your cruelties Shall not proscribe well your excellent rareties Excuse mee Nymphe as you would haue in some ●s●te Of heauen your fayre semblance for I doo not meane To sing you now but Dian when you haue bene More gratious vnto mée I wyll sing you better Sonnet 2. THe Gréeke Poet to whome Bathill was the guide Made her immortall by that which he did sing And were it so I knowe not but of Corîne We faine the patrone of the Latine Ouide And since them Petrarque a wise Florentîne Hath turnde his Mistres into a tree of Baye And he that soong the eldest daughter of Troye In Fraunce hath made of her an astre Diuine And lyke these knowne men can your Soothern write too And as long as Englishe lasts immortall you I the penne of Soothern will my sayre Diana Make thée immortall if thou wilt giue him fauour For then hée 'll sing Petrark Tîen Ouide Ronsar And make thee Cassander Corine Bathyll Laura Sonnet 3. THat death that despises at all kinde of beautie And would make all loue goe into Charons passage Would haue hit the eyes wherein I liue in seruage The eyes both to fayre and too full of crueltie But Cupid that styll in those eyes was indompted The infant knew well where after this death sought And began to crie death if thou ende thy thought We shall neither of vs be againe redoubted But death if thout let me liue in these eyes styll Thou shalt sée O then how nobelly I wyll Hoyse thy honour for I haue not halfe thy might And yet in these eyes I conquer all the world Death hearing this let him line styll in the syght Fro whence he shewteth such sharpe arrowes of gold Sonnet 4. WHen nature made my Diana that before All other Nymphes showld force the hearts rebell●nt She gaue her the masse of beauties excellent That she kéepe since long in her coffers in store And at her framing Paphae came fro the skies with the swéetnes and graces of Erycêene And swore that it should make her so fayre 〈◊〉 Quéene Of beautie that the Gods should dwell in her eyes But she hardlie was come to vs. fro aboue Though but my soule was inflamed with her loue And I serue her in spite of the troupe Celêst For tell mee why did not they lykewise ordaine That in reward of my loue she shewd againe Estéeme me onely and onely loue me best Sonnet 5. OF stars and of forrests Dian. is the honor And to the seas to the Goddesse is the guide And she hath Luna Charon and Eumenîde To make brightnes to giue death and to cause horror And my warrier my light shines in thy fayre eyes My dread is of thée the to great excellence Thy wordes kyll mee and thus thou hast the puissaunce Of her that rules the slodes and lyghines the skies And as syluer Pheb is the after most clare So is thy beauty the beauty the most rare Wherefore I call thée Dian for thy beantee For thy wisedome and for thy puissannce Celest And yet thou must be but a Goddesse terest And onely because of thy great crueltée Sonnet 6. OF Pyladeus and of Oresteus we haue made many disputes in the temple of death And in the Church of Troy we pro●ue Choreb's faith Who made for Cassander his h●rn●s his graue And there is one on the mountaine Cancasein With an Eagle on his heart Philosiphâll And there is a stone of a mad Cisyphâll Least alwayes behind him and caried in vaine These temples and this rocke is in my obiect The church is my soule the slint is my subiect My verses are the labours of Sisyphêus And for willing shew your fayre beauties its vaine Of Promet for not canning I haue the paine Th'Eagle's cruell and Nymphe you are rigrous Sonnet 7. I Am not my cruell warrier the Thebain That my infancie should be strangled with Serpents Nor neither did my nurse giue thée any torments nor I suckt neither Vropae nor Elthâin I came not my warrier of the blood Lidain Nor neyther am I of the race of Ixiôn Nor Ioue neither bare my mother affection Nor I am no infant Egier nor Danain Nor I am neither the nephew of Atlas That made the earth dronke with the blood of Arguss But yet I know wherefore I haue all my wounds I am none of these which I haue sayd Diân But I am that verie miserable man Who for regarding thée was eaten of Houndes Elegia 1. To the Echon O Dolefull voice that doost aunswer The wéepings of my care And that héere in these mozie groues Hast pittie on my dolanc● And th●● of whome she emptie mouth At least dooth make a semblaunce To séele my wounds that procéede of Two eyes to gréene and fayre O speake since thou canst not liue except I shall giue the brethe And since my gréeuous voice is onelie the nurce of thy steme I crying Dian why makest thou Dye Iohn aunswer agen Wouldst thou I lou'de no more Or doost thou Prophesie my death O noble Nymph tell mée or doost Thou now inflame againe With the antiqueus amor that Thou louedst so in vaine Or is it that remembring my Loue I should pittie thine For the like dollor that thou hadst Euen the like doo I suffer And the like amore that thou hadst The like to mee dooth offer Saue that thy loue was not so fayre Nor so cruelly as mine Elegia 2. To the Gods WHen the eye of the world dooth washe his golden shining heaire In the large Occean seas and that They haue couerd the lyght Amurmuring repose and a Restfull and sléepy night Is spreded both ouer the earth The waters and the ayre But I chaunge nature then For than Dooth my brightest Aurôr In a swéete dreame present her selfe O dreame no dreame but well The Ambrozie the Nectar and The Manna Eternell And to be bréefe a vision that I lyke a God adore Wherefore farewell day of nights and Welcome night waking daye And farewell waking of my sléepe Welcome sléepe lyuing ioye But what say I my wealth is false And my euill verita-ble And I plaine of them both for I Haue in neither delight Except ye Gods will short these dayes And eternishe this night An● that God that will doo it shall be a God charita-ble Elegia 3. To his Diana IF the secretnesse of my thoughtes Were opened to you Or if else my dolorous heart Had of speaking the vsage Or warrier if my constancie Were painted in my visage Or that if ye knewe my torment How it is great and true Or or if any golden wordes In well composed verse Could liuelelie shewe the picture Of an amourous rage Then should I without doubt

quoth I is Soothern and Madame let that suffice That Soothern which will rayse the Englishe language to the Skies The wanton of the Muses and Whose well composed ryme Will liue in despite of the heuens And Triumph ouer tyme. c. Elegia But how farre are the wordes contrarie to the déedes of men The selfe same night I went where I admyred you agen Your syluer Phebes eyes and your Well set and crisped heair Your Venus porte and your countenaunce of the God of war Your Iban throte your marble brow With your soft chéekes of Roses And your Straberie lyps wherein Your téeth of pearle reposes Bréefe I saw you Dian in whome The Gods did all their best To sée what they could doo when they Would frame a worke Celest c. Elegia But how vaine and short are the delightes and plasires humaine And of the solace of this world What else dooth there remaine Sauing but repentaunce and what Is it that beareth breath But by the hauing life it is Subiected vnto death c. Himne The more stronger the Castle is And harder to be wonne The more eternall honour hath The man that can get it And vertue neuer will giue ou'r Without a great conflict c. Himne To iudge a Humaine heart t is a Labyrinth much vnwide Wherein we loose vs if we haue Not experaunce for guide c. Elegia The woman nere so constaunt or the Castle nere so strong If th' one will heare and th' other speake They doo not endure long c. ¶ New kinde of verces deuised by him and are a wofull kinde of meter to sing a loue or death in LIke the dolefull birde languishing the which dooth sing Her fatall song in swéete accordes Betaking her selfe to her death wearie of breath On Meander her storie bordes And euen so I without hope that it helpes me ought Bedew thy handes héere with my teares For I perceiue by thy rigore that-to my dolore The Gods themselues haue stopt their eares Though speake Dian what might thou meane by this extreame Crueltie hauing such Diuine Fayre eyes Doost thou thinke that when death hath tooke my breath That I will ende these cries of mine No no thou art deceiu'd for then my sprite agen Shall followe thée fro place to place Exclayming on thy crueltie voide of pittie c. FINIS Ode COme come Simonid and Anacreon Come and laye your money to mine And let vs goe and finde out Corydon And be once dronke with new wine Boye bring hyther the greatest glasse And fyll though it runne tyll to morrowe Héere holde my Anacre-on quasse When we are droonke we haue no sorrowe But first I would thy Bathyll were Come with her Lute that we might daunce And that our olde Ronsard of Fraunce With his Cassandra too were here And what sayst Simon'd shall we send For our Wenches now at beginning Hâ he that loues not Wine and Women Will neuer make a holsome ende ❧ Odellet DIan if it might come to passe Or that I might haue my desire I would to the Gods that I were Turned into thy looking Glasse Or to the pillowe of this bead Whereon thou layst thy daintie head Or to water that I might wash thée Or to thy roabe that thou mightst weare mée Or that hang here on thy teatine I would I were these pearles of thine Or my Dian to tell thée true I would I could be but thy shew Odellet SOme will sing the great feates of Armes Of Rome some other the alarmes of Thebs and some other of Troye And both the siedge and the efroye But what haue I to doe with warriers Meddle I then with those that fit No no I nere hurt any yet Nor nere men to come among soldiers I care not for the Thracian God I am no man that seeketh blood But like the olde Poët Annacron It pleases mée well to be Biberon And thus in a Sellor to quaffe So that some Wench be by to lauffe And with Bacchus and Citherais I meane to spend all my whole dayes Odellet BOy reach hyther the bottle that I may taste of thy crimson lycor For when I am in any dolor It onelie reioyces my heart The deuill made money I thinke For without money what a liuing Haue we that serue couetous women And without it we can not drinke Learning is not now woorth a penny And these wiues care for no fayre lookes And what shall a man doo with Bookes Faith hang if he can get no mony Odellet BVt why since death will not retard For any gift that we her offer My Dyolle what helpes it to gard This golde a rousting in a coffer Is' t not better that whiles we liue We giue our selues to learning when Better then ought else we can giue Dead it makes vs to reuiue agen FINIS Stansse DIeus que ie hay ronsard qui rien nese propoze Qu'a tromper vne amour d'un lāguage allechant Dian ie vos pry aiez loreille e cloze Affin de n'ouyr point la doulceur de son chant Non ie hay plus que mort sa Casandre implacable An caeur ou le Burin d'une douce Pitye Ne seut grauer benin vn seull trait d'amytie Car on doibt payer l'amour d'une amitye semblable Quadran Lon ne peut inger lesant dans le visage Sy l'amant est fidelle ou volage en amoure Pour le scau●ir an vray fueilletez le Courage Car la durable amytye ne se'preuue en vn ioure Quadran Non non Ie ne tiens point pour guerrier valeureux Vng tas de ieunes sots qui ventant leur Vaillance Au fruit on congnoist larbre a la perseuerance Lon remarque anssi tost vn gallant amoureus FINIS