Selected quad for the lemma: fire_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
fire_n	earth_n	nature_n	water_n	6,401	5	6.5273	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A08674	Ouids Tristia containinge fiue bookes of mournfull elegies which hee sweetly composed in the midst of his aduersitie, while hee liu'd in Tomos a cittie of Pontus where hee dyed after seauen yeares banishment from Rome. Translated into English by. W.S.; Tristia. English	Ovid, 43 B.C.-17 or 18 A.D.; Saltonstall, Wye, fl. 1630-1640.; Cecil, Thomas, fl. 1630, engraver.	1633 (1633)	STC 18979; ESTC S113811	45,161	96

night If any urgd my haste I would reply Alasse consider whither whence I fly And then my selfe with flattory would beguile And thinke no houre did limit my exile Thrice went I forth and thrice returning finde Slow paces were indulgent to my minde Oft having bid farewell I spake againe And many parting kisses gave in vaine Then looking backe upon my children deare The 〈◊〉 repeated charge I gave them there Why make we hast t is just to seeke delay Since I am sent from Rome to Scythia For I must leave my children house and wife Who while I live must leade a widdowes life And you my loving friends that present be And were like Theseus faithfull unto me Let us imbrace and use times little store Perhaps I never shall imbrace you more And then my words to action did give place While I each friend did lovingly imbrace But while I speake and teares bedew'd my eyes The fatall morning starre began to rise My heart was so divided therewithall As if my limbes would from my body fall So Priam griev'd when he too late did finde The Grecian horse with armed men was linde Then sorrow was in one lowde cry exprest And every one began to knocke his breast And now my wife her armes about me cast And while I wept she spoke these words at last Thou shalt not goe alone for I will be Thy wife in banishment and follow thee In the same ship with thee I le goe aboard And one land shall to us one life afford Thee unto exile Caesars wrath commandes Me love which love to me for Caesars stands This shee repeats which shee had spoke before And could not be perswaded to give ore Till at rhe last when I my haire had rent Forth like some living funerall I went And after as I heard when night grew on Being mad with griefe shee threw her selfe along Vpon the ground while as her haire now lies Soild in the dust and when that shee did rise Of Nisus love who should the story know For as the fire the yellow gold doth try So love is proved by adversitie While Fortune helpes us and on us doth smile They will attend upon our wealth that while But if shee frowne they fly and scarce of any Shall he be knowne that had of friends so many This which before I from examples drew In my owne fortune now is proved true Since of my friends so few remaining be The rest did love my fortune and not me Then let those few aide me distrest the more And bring my ship with safety to the shoare And let not any feare to be my friend Least that his love great Caesars might offend For faithfulnesse in friendship he doth love And in his enemies he doth it approve My case is better since that no attempt 'Gainst him but folly wrought my banishment Be watchfull then in my behalfe and see If that his anger may appeased be If any wish I should my griefes reherse They are to many too be shew'd in verse My griefes are more than starrs within the skies Or little mo●es which in the dust arise For to my sorrowes none can credit give Posterity will scarce the same beleeve Besides those other griefes which ought to have Within my secret thoughts a silent grave Had I voice and brest could ne're be tyr'd More mouthes and tongues than ever griefe desir'd Yet could not I expresse the same in words My griefe so large a theame to me affords You learned Poets leave off now to write Vlysses troubles and my woes recite I sufferd more he wanderd many yeeres In comming home from Troy as it appeares We sayld so farre to the Sarmatian shoare Till we discoverd starres unknowne before With him a faithfull troope of Grecians went My friends forsooke me in my banishment To bring him home his happy sayles were spred While I even from my native countrey fled Nor doe I saile frrm Ithaca from whence It would not greeve me to be banisht thence But even from Rome which doth the gods enfold And from seaven hills doth all the world behold He had a body hardned to endure To labour I my selfe did ne're inure In the sterne warres great paines he daily tooke But I was still devoted to my booke One god opposing me no god brought ayde But him Bellona helpt the warlike Maide And since that Neptune is than Iove farre lesse Him Neptune but great Iove doth me oppresse Besides some fictions doe his labours grace Which in our griefes sad storie have no place And lastly though at last his home he found And landed on the welcome long sought ground But ne're shall I my native countrey see Vntill the angry gods appeased be Vnto his wife whose faithfull love And constancie he doth approve ELEGIE V. APollo Lyde never lov'd so well Nor did Philetas love so much excell Vnto the Reader put in mind of me Yet they with patience can be read of none That to the world are uncorrected showne Snatcht from the forge before they could be fram'd Deprived of my last life-giving hand For praise I pardon crave it shall suffice If Reader thou do not my Verse despise Yet in the front these verses placed bee If with thy liking it at least agree Who meetes this Orphan Volumne poore in worth Within your City harborage afford To win more favour not by him set forth But ravisht from the funerall of his Lord This therefore which presents its owne defect At pleasure with a friendly hand correct To his unconstant friend whose love He findes doth now unconstant prove And like a Glow-worme seemes to shine But yeelds no bea●e in hardest time ELEGIE VII LEt Rivers now flow backe unto their Spring And let the Sunne from West his course begin The earth shall now with shining starres be fill'd The skies unto the furrowing plough shall yeeld The water shall send forth a smoaking flame The fire shall yeeld forth water backe againe All things shall go against old natures force And no part of the world shall keepe his course This I presage because I am deceiv'd Of him whose love most faithfull I beleev'd What made thy hollow thoughts so soone reject me What didst thou feare when fortune did afflict me That thou wouldst never comfort me at all Or mourne at my living funerall That name of friendship which should holy be Is not esteem'd or reckoned of by thee What had it beene to have seene a maim'd friend And with the rest some words of comfort lend And if no teares for me thou couldst have shed With fained pittie mightst have something sed Thou mightst have done as some who I ne're knew And in the common voyce have bid adew And lastly while thou mightest take the paine To see my face ne're to be seene againe And mightst have then which ne're shall more befall Give and receive a farewell last of all Which others did whom no strick● league did binde And made their teares the

now That may be stucke round with the cypresse bough Now incense to the gods were cast away While in my depth of griefe I cannot pray Yet one request upon this day I le name That to this place thou ne're returne againe Whilst in the farthest Ponticke shoare I live Which falsely some the name of Euxine give Here he writes unto his friend That he would his bookes defend ELEGIE XIIII THou chiefe of learned men what maketh thee A friend unto my idle veine to be When I was safe then thou my lynes didst praise And being absent thou my fame dost raise And all my verses thou dost entertaine Except the Art of love which I did frame Since then thou lovest the new Poets straine Within the City still keepe up my name For I and not my bookes am banisht thence Which they could not deserve by my offence The father of 't is banished we see While as his children in the Citty be My verses now are like to Pallas borne Without a mother and being so forlorne I send them unto thee for they bereft Of father now unto thy charge are left Three sonnes of mine by me destroyed were But of the rest see that thou have a care And fifteene bookes of changed shapes there lyes Being ravisht from their masters obsequies That worke I had unto perfection brought If that I had not my owne ruine wrought Which uncorrected now the people have If any thing of mine the people crave Let this among my other bookes now stand Being sent unto thee from a forraigne land Which who so reades let him but waigh againe The time and place wherein I did it frame He will pardon me when he shall understand That I was banisht in a barbarous land And will admire that in my adverse time With a sad hand I could draw forth a line Misfortunes have depriv'd me of my straine Although before I ne're had a rich vaine Yet whatsoere it was even now it lyes Dryed up for want of any exercise Here are no bookes to feede me with delight But in stead of bookes the bowes doe me affright Heere 's none to whom I may my lines reherse That can both heare and understand my verse I have no place where I may walke alone But with the Getes shut up in walls of stone Sometimes I aske for such a places name But there is none can answer me againe And when I faine would speake I must confesse I want fit words my minde for to expresse The Scythian language doth my eare affright So that the Geticke tongue I sure could write I feare least you within this booke should see That Ponticke words with Latine mingled be Yet reade it and thereto a pardon give When thou considerst in what state I live LIB IIII. To excuse his bookes he doth begin And shewes how his Muse did comfort him ELEGIE I. IF any faults are in these bookes of mine Have them excused Reader by their time I sought no fame but onely some releefe That so my mind might not thinke on her griefe Even as the Ditcher bound with fetters strong Will lighten heavy labour with a song And he will sing that with a bended side Doth draw the slow boate up against the tide And he that at the Oare doth tug with paine Doth sing while he puts backe his oare againe The weary Shepheard sitting on a hill Doth please his sheepe with piping on his quill And every maid within the Contrey bred Will sing while she is drawing forth her thred Achilles being sad for Brisis losse The Haemonian harpe did soften that same crosse While Orpheus for his wife much griefe did shew With his sweet tunes the woods and stones he drew So did my Muse delight me as I went And bore me company in my banishment She feard no trechery nor the Souldiers hand Nor yet the wind or sea or barbarous land She knew what error first my ruine brought And that there was no wickednesse in my fault And since from her my fault did first proceed She is made guilty with me of that deed Yet still the feare of harme me so affrights I scarse dare touch the Muses holy rites But now a sudden fury doth me move And being hurt by verse yet verse I love Even as Vlysses tooke delight to taste The Lote tree which did hurt him at the last The Lover feeles his losse yet does delight In it and seekes to feede his appetite So Bookes delight me which did me confound Loving the Dart which gave me this same wound Perhaps this study may a fury seeme And yet to many it hath usefull beene It makes the mind that it cannot retaine Her griefe in sight but doth forget the same As she ne're felt the wound which Bacchus gave But wildly on the Idean hils did rave So when a sacred fire my brest doth warme My higher fancy doth all sorrow scorne It feeles no banishment or Ponticke shore Nor thinkes the gods are angrie any more And as if I should drinke dull Lethes water I have no sence of any sorrow after Needs must those goddesses then honour'd be Who from their Helicon did come with me And for to follow me they still did please Either by foote by shipping or by seas And may they gracious unto me abide Since that the gods are all on Caesars side While those griefes which they heape on me are more Than fish in seas or sands upon the shoare The flowers in spring-time thou mayst sooner tell Or Autumns apples or the snow that fell Than all my griefes being tossed too and fro While I unto the Euxine shore do go Where come I found no change of miserie As if ill fortune still did follow me My thred of life in one course heere doth runne Of blacke and dismall wooll this thred is spunne Though I omit my dangers and my griefe I have seene such miseries as are past beleefe Amongst the barbarous Getes how can he live To whom the people once such praise did give How grievous is it to be lockt within A walled Towne and yet scarce safe therein For in my youth all warre I did detest And never handled weapons but in jest Now in my hands a sword and shield I beare And on my gray haires I a helmet weare For when the watchman standing in his place Doth give some signe then all do arme apace The enemie with his poyson'd shafts and bow On their proud Steeds about the walles do go And as the Wolfe doth beare a sheepe away Into the woods which from the fold did stray So those that once are strayd beyond the gate The f●e comes on them and doth take them straight Then like a captive they his necke do chaine Or else with poyson'd arrowes he is slaine In this place I a dweller am become A lasse my time of life too slow doth runne Yet to my verse I do returne againe My friendly Muse doth me in griefe sustaine Yet there is none