Selected quad for the lemma: fire_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
fire_n	day_n	night_n	pillar_n	4,391	5	10.4587	5	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A09228	The loue of King Dauid and fair Bethsabe With the tragedie of Absalon. As it hath ben diuers times plaied on the stage. Written by George Peele.	Peele, George, 1556-1596.; Du Bartas, Guillaume de Salluste, seigneur, 1544-1590.	1599 (1599)	STC 19540; ESTC S110364	31,374	62

here For wise Achitophel hath counseld Absalon To take aduantage of your wearie armes And come this night vpon you in the fields But yet the Lord hath made his counsell skorne And Cusaies pollicie with praise preferd Which was to number euery Israelite And so assault you in their pride of strength Ionat. Abiathar besides intreats the King To send his men of warre against his sonne And hazard not his person in the field Dauid Thankes to Abiathar and to you both And to my Cusay whom the Lord requite But tenne times treble thankes to his soft hand Whose pleasant touch hath made my heart to dance And play him praises in my zealous breast That turnd the counsell of Achitophel After the praiers of his seruants lips Now will we passe the riuer all this night And in the morning sound the voice of warre The voice of bloudie and vnkindly warre Ioab Then tell vs how thou wilt deuide thy men And who shall haue the speciall charge herein Dau. Ioab thy selfe shall for thy charge conduct The first third part of all my valiant men The second shall Abisaies valour lead The third faire Ithay which I most should grace For comfort he hath done to Dauids woes And I my selfe will follow in the midst Ith. That let not Dauid for though we should flie Tenne thousand of vs were not halfe so much Esteemd with Dauids enemies as himselfe Thy people louing thee denie thee this Da. What seemes them best then that will Dauid doe But now my lords and captaines heare his voice That neuer yet pierst pittious heauen in vaine Then let it not slip lightly through your eares For my sake spare the young man Absalon Ioab thy selfe didst once vse friendly words To reconcile my heart incenst to him If then thy loue be to thy kinsman sound And thou wilt proue a perfit Israelite Friend him with deeds and touch no haire of him Not that fair haire with which the wanton winds Delight to play and loues to make in curle Wherein the Nightingales would build their nests And make sweet bowers in euery golden tresse To sing their louer euery night asleepe O spoile not Ioab Ioues faire ornaments Which he hath sent to solace Dauids soule The best ye see my lords are swift to sinne To sinne our feet are washt with milke of Roes And dried againe with coales of lightening O Lord thou seest the prowdest sinnes poore slaue And with his bridle pulst him to the graue For my sake then spare louely Absalon Ith. Wee will my lord for thy sake fauour him Exeunt Achitophel solus with a halter Achi. Now hath Achitophel orderd his house And taken leaue of euery pleasure there Hereon depends Achitophels delights And in this circle must his life be closde The wise Achitophel whose counsell prou'd Euer as sound for fortunate successe As if men askt the Oracle of God Is now vsde like the foole of Israel Then set thy angrie soule vpon her wings And let her flie into the shade of death And for my death let heauen for euer weepe Making huge flouds vpon the land I leaue To rauish them and all their fairest fruits Let all the sighs I breath'd for this disgrace Hang on my hedges like eternall mists As mourning garments for their maisters death Ope earth and take thy miserable sonne Into the bowels of thy cursed wombe Once in a surfet thou diddest spue him forth Now for fell hunger sucke him in againe And be his bodie poyson to thy vaines And now thou hellish instrument of heauen Once execute th' arrest of Ioues iust doome And stop his breast that curseth Israel Exit Absalon Amasa with all his traine Abs. Now for the crowne and throne of Israel To be confirmd with vertue of my sword And writ with Dauids bloud vpon the blade Now Ioue let forth the golden firmament And looke on him with all thy fierie eyes Which thou hast made to giue their glories light To shew thou louest the vertue of thy hand Let fall a wreath of starres vpon my head Whose influence may gouerne Israel With state exceeding all her other Kings Fight lords and captaines that your soueraignes face May shine in honour brighter then the sunne And with the vertue of my beautious raies Make this faire land as fruitfull as the fields That with sweet milke and hony ouerflow'd God in the whiffing of a pleasant wind Shall march vpon the tops of Mulberie trees To coole all breasts that burne with any greefes As whylome he was good to Moyses men By day the Lord shall sit within a cloud To guide your footsteps to the fields of ioy And in the night a piller bright as fire Shall goe before you like a second sunne Wherein the essence of his godhead is That day and night you may be brought to peace And neuer swarue from that delightsome path That leads your soules to perfect happinesse This shall he doe for ioy when I am King Then fight braue captaines that these ioies may flie Into your bosomes with sweet victorie Exeunt The battell and Absalon hangs by the haire What angrie angel sitting in these shades Hath laid his cruell hands vpon my haire And holds my body thus twixt heauen and earth Hath Absalon no souldier neere his hand That may vntwine me this vnpleasant curle Or wound this tree that rauisheth his lord O God behold the glorie of thy hand And choisest fruit of Natures workemanship Hang like a rotten branch vpon this tree Fit for the axe and ready for the fire Since thou withholdst all ordinarie helpe To lose my bodie from this bond of death O let my beautie fill these sencelesse places With sence and power to lose me from this plague And worke some wonder to preuent his death Whose life thou madst a speciall miracle Ioab with another souldier Sould. My lord I saw the young prince Absalon Hang by the haire vpon a shadie oke And could by no meanes get himselfe vnlosde Ioab Why slewst thou not the wicked Absalon That rebell to his father and to heauen That so I might haue giuen thee for thy paines Tenne siluer sickles and a golden wast Sould. Not for a thousand sickles would I slay The sonne of Dauid whom his father chargd Nor thou Abisay nor the sonne of Gath Should touch with stroke of deadly violence The charge was giuen in hearing of vs all And had I done it then I know thy selfe Before thou wouldst abide the Kings rebuke Wouldst haue accus'd me as a man of death Ioab I must not now stand trifling here with thee Abs. Helpe Ioab helpe O helpe thy Absalon Let not thy angrie thoughts be laid in bloud In bloud of him that sometimes nourisht thee And softned thy sweet heart with friendly loue O giue me once againe my fathers sight My deerest father and my princely soueraigne That shedding teares of bloud before his face The ground may witnesse and the heauens record My last submission sound and full