Selected quad for the lemma: ground_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
ground_n	die_v	young_a	youth_n	20	3	9.0126	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A18608	Youthes witte, or, The vvitte of grene youth choose gentlemen, and mez-dames which of them shall best lyke you / compiled and gathered together by Henry Chillester.	Chillester, Henry.	1581 (1581)	STC 5137.5; ESTC S745	81,387	162

And you by hap haue surely hit the marke that how to finde may maze a cunning Clarke But who could keepe the key of such a chest or had a head might ioyne with such a witte Or could discerne where his desire doth rest as harte doth wish with happy hande to hit His happe were such as I can neuer craue but wish of God my haples harte might haue So pretty soule a solemne vowe I sweare I would not seeke for iemmes of greater ioy Nor should mine eye be trouling here and there to make a marke of any tysing toy But where I once my leauel lay of loue my hande shal holde and harte shal neuer moue The Louer forsaken and almost dismaide yet through hope taketh comforte FLy fancie flie and let me loue no more what meanes my wil or are my wits bestraught Die swéete desire molest me not so sore but seeke to saue that thou in vayne hast sought For sorrowe shewes the woe of wretched will and force affirmes but frowarde fortune still Where least I like my loue hath lent me losse where most I loue my liking findeth lack What bootes my barke in waues of woe to tosse when sorrowes sandes doe threaten sore shipwrack Such stormes of strife so rife in euery coast as but great happe shew life and laboure lost Yet cowarde wretch wilt thou goe back agayne and keepe thy couch and leaue to seeke delight Make sure accounte no pleasure without payne the sweetest ioyes are gainde through sore despight Then get thee forth in hope goe hoyse vp sayle the winde may tourne and worke for thine auayle Let hardie hope daunte feareful fonde despaire prepare thy selfe to leade a souldiars life Through thicke and thinne by weather foule or faire passe through the pikes and dread no deadly strife And though long first yet when the worst is past the best wil yealde some wished ioyes at last Another I Shrinke to speake since yet I haue no leaue and yet my harte so heaues my tongue to speake As that in deede I plainly doe perceaue with force of fame my very hart stringes breake Which force must be with fauoure ouerprest or els my hart wil neuer sitte at rest Forgeue me wretch if that my wordes offende fancie hath forcde my sillie minde to sue Some lyking let good nature to me sende my minde hath sworne our Ladie seruice due Then if thou lou'st our Ladie or her name regarde my suite graunt fauoure to the same Which fauoure loe I onely craue is this to graunt me leaue to say but what I could Say but my wordes thou wilt not like amisse and thou shalt heare my meaning what I would But til that time as I haue sayd before I must be dumbe and die in dole therefore The louer in sorrow craueth death HOw might I doe to weepe and wayle my fil that dolefull dumpes might soone dispatch my dayes Since sorrowe seekes my carkas so to kill oh doleful doome that so my death delayes I see selfewil hath wrought me such distresse as reason shewes no hope to finde redresse Yet die I must I feele deathes deadly stroake my carkase eke is nie consumde with care Why liue I then since that my hart is broke but liuing thus like one halfe dead I fare Which makes me thus at pointe of death to crie strike home thy darte good death and let me die Patience prolonges the patient in paine comforte relieues but rids not sorrow quight Hope lingers forth a loathed life in vaine fortune is false and frendes no wretched wight The fates doe groane dole is my destinie why liue I then good death come let me die Harde to finde a faithful frende HE seekes vnsure that seekes to finde a friend for faith is fled and frendes are secrete foes A shew of trothe tryes treason in the ende and many pluck a canker for a rose This wretched world is ful of wicked wiles when simple geese the subtile foxe beguiles For stinging snakes lie hid in smoothest grasse and softest streame doth shew the deepest floud No closer craft then in the glosing glasse which flatters much and shewes no perfect good I finde in deede no greater subtiltie then couered is with smoothe simplicitie Then deeme I best eche where to doubt the worst to make account of eche thing by desarte Or ere I choose to make true tryall first by tryall then for to esteeme in harte Thus thinke I best such trusty frends to finde as may content ech faithful meaning minde He craueth content being ouerworne with Loue. OH Loue leaue of to vexe thy silly slaue to bide the broyle some fresher souldyer seeke Thus worne with woes some comforte let me ahue that so thou mayst my seruice better leeke For if that care doe quite my carkasse kill how should I liue to doe thee seruice still Beholde my face my flesh is falne away see how mine eyes sinke hollow in my head My dumpes declares how my delights decay deeme if I seeme more like aliue or dead Let lyking loue some comforte me procure least loathed life no longer doe endure Oh heare me Loue and lende me helpe in hast the time is come that I must liue or die Stay not too long least all too late at last in vayne alas thou lende me remedie I humblie craue my humble suite regarde graunt my desire may haue his due rewarde De contemptu mundi IN depe despite of this vile world I write what is it but a vale of miserie A caue of care a dongeon of despite a place of payne a penne of penurie A sea of sorrowes and a goulph of griefe where wretched hartes doe die without reliefe The wise man wrytes it is a poysoned baight which doth with toyes the godly minde infecte A wanton theese which cloasly lyes in waight to robbe the minde of euery good effecte It is a grounde where onely griefes doe groe and to conclude a wildernes of woe Now why my selfe so ill thereof should deeme some men may muse that see my youthfull yeares Oh softe a while though young of yeares I séeme my youth hath past through many aged bryers But now that I am yet beyonde the bushes I doe not care for all the worlde two rushes Saue that my Prince I honour I protest my Parentes eke and so I loue my friend Set these aside and as for all the rest of loue and liking I must make an ende I hate the worlde and all the toyes therein and longe to sée my ioyes in heauen beginne Maledisant Beuchampe THe tender budde that brauely ginnes to blow while summer showers yeeldes comforte to the roote If that vnwares there fall a sodaine snow no sunné can shine that wel may doe it boote Except it holde but for a day and so It may haue leaue to make a liuely show My selfe the slower that flourisht all too fast while fauour flonge faire weather in my face But now must die my pleasures ouerpast to see disdaine so

despaire doth shew no gaine Good hap says hope despaire cries contrarie hope bids me liue despaire would haue me die Thus twixt those two at point of death I liue in hope of good yet fearing froward chaunce In you it lyes a happy hap to geue to bring me out of this despairing traunce Oh help me then that thus on knees doe crie Assure my hope or in despaire I die The Louer craueth rewarde for his long and faythfull seruice OH Loue to whome I long haue bene a slaue consider wel how truely I haue serud And blame not him who is compeld to craue the due reward that he hath wel deserud Let trustie troth be euer yet regarded that faithful seruants may be wel rewarded Thou knowest how long that I haue liued a thrall thou knowest againe my true and faithful minde And thou canst tel how landes limme life and all by faith full fast I once did firmely finde To serue a Saint all this thou loue doest know and how my faith I neuer did forgoe And since thou knowest I neuer reapt reward nor euer sought til now reward to craue Sweete loue let now my humble suite be heard and pittie take vpon thy silly slaue And cause the Saint whom I so long haue serud to lend me liking as I haue deserud Oh amour WHat thing is loue a God as Poets wright why Poets faine then how can that be true What is it then some worldly sweete delight oh then their loue why should so many rue It is a griefe then why are men so vaine to ioy in that which doth procure their paine But such a pain as pleasure bringes withal and such a griefe as yealds a heauenly ioy Doth make the heart to think the hurt but smal when fancie rids the minde of selfe annoy And such is sure the panges that louers proue that wretched wights can ioy so much in loue But peace I sée loue is a God in deede who diuers wayes doth worke in minde of man Whose mighty power mans reason doth exceede by working woe or comfort now and than But is it so is loue a power diuine then God of Gods spéede well this loue of mine Nought dare I do therfore oh God of loue I thée beséeche to worke for thy behooue Of a hauty minde THe conquest rare doth greatest glory gaine the strongest fortes by stoutest wightes are won The hardest thinges atchiude with greatest payne do bréede most ease when so the worke is done Well labors he how so his time be spent that for his paines doth reape his hartes content God knowes my hart and what I do desire but what I seeke doth few or no man know The nobler harte the higher doth aspier and for my selfe I cannot stoupe to lowe But if I séeke to clyme a steppe to hye God saue the childe for if I fall I dye In high attemptes the boldest bloudes of all do best preuaile when perill once is past Then lyue or dye or stand or slyde or fall clyme sure I will God set my footing fast And helpe me so to height of my desire that I may wishe saue heauen to clyme no hyer After many misfortunes he craueth death as the ender of all calamities I Longe in iest haue wishd and calde for death when foolishe toyes haue gone agaynst my mynde But dying now at latest gaspe of breath I call to God that I may fauoure find That sinne bréede not my soules eternall paine that dyinge here I may not dye agayne For now I sée the woes of wretched will and now I finde the filthie shame of sinne And now by grace I knowe the good from ill I lothe the state that I haue liued in I see the lyfe of man is but a floure which springes growes fades and dyeth in an houre What are we all but euen a clod of claye first made of earth whence back agayne we must A life vnsure which lasteth not a daye A death most sure to which each one may trust And yet that death yeldes lyfe by heauenly grace which grace God graunt ech one in wretched case And for my selfe God me my sinnes forgiue and God forgeue each one that is amisse Oure sinnes forgeue God graunt oure soules may lyue From wretched worlde with him in heauenly blisse And thus I end my solemne dyinge songe Lord saue my soule I dyinge lyue too longe He proueth vertue to be better then worldly riches THe golde that first within the ground doth growe doth come to stand on top of pillers hye The pretious Pearle that likewise lyes full low the Prince accountes a iewell for his eye What iemme so rare that euer yet was founde but that at first did growe out of the grounde Then when you see your pallace trimly deckt straight cal to minde from whence that decking came And to the ground haue presently respect who by Gods help did first bring forth the same And thinke the iemme that makes the brauest show ful rough at first within the ground did grow The man whose minde is ful and wholy bent to vertues throne to treade the redy way And meetes mishap ere halfe his iorney spent to lothsome vice to leade him out astray Where is the fault but in a froward wil who goes without the guide of wisdomes skill But what if wit be rulde by sage aduise and then doe chaunce to meete with naked neede It bootes alas but litle to be wise if wealth do want to help to doe the déede Yet wealthy wise who walkes to vertues schoole when he comes there shal see himselfe a foole How should the minde then séeke out vertues throne or els what minde is best to seeke the same The seate is straunge and standeth all alone and vertue she is thought a heauenly dame Which makes me thinke it is some heauenly place which heauenly minde must game by heauenly grace Which heauenly guide God graunt my willing minde with wisdomes skil to seeke out vertues schoole That though wealth want yet wit may wisely finde how long too long that I haue liued a foole And I may see from vertues heauenly way what wanton toyes haue led my minde astray The louer being ouercome is compelled of necessitie ●o sing of sorrow FAine would I write some pretie pleasaunt toy to put away fond fancies out of mind But secret spite so chokes me with annoy as wearied wits can litle pleasure find So that I sée if ought at all I write my song must be of sorrow and despite And sorrowes song who would desire to sing that dolefull dumpe doth lend but small delite And yet the mind which wretched woes do wring can sing no song but smackes of some despite For if of myrth it doth the more disease and solemne songs do litle paine appease Then sadde and swéete since that no song I see which may delite of cheare the heauy hart I can but ●igh let others sing for me no musicke mirth can ease my secret smart