Selected quad for the lemma: heaven_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
heaven_n	earth_n	let_v	lord_n	16,608	5	4.1180	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B11749	Raglands Niobe: or, Elizas elegie Addressed to the unexpiring memory of the most noble Lady, Elizabeth Herbert, wife to the truly honourable, Edward Somerset Lord Herbert, &c. By Ri. Brathwait, Esq.	Brathwaite, Richard, 1588?-1673.	1635 (1635)	STC 3581.7; ESTC S114435	5,280	30

reliefe In the communicating of their griefe One drained from another and that one Divorc'd now from his sight dislodg'd and gone Hee farre transcends the mould of humane state Who scornes in this to be effeminate Deaths Lachrymae indeed is such a song So short's the Scene of griefe it lasts not long Yet where impressive vertues did appeare They have an Anniversall ev'ry yeare And such were thine blest Saint whose light shall give Direction unto others how to live I' st irreligious then to shed a teare For one where such choice vertues lodged were A Gardiner would discontented seeme If that prime flower he held in most esteeme Should be mel-dew'd or cropt before the time Can we doe lesse for her who in her prime Was cropt by th' hand of D●●eh much wonder I At popular amazement who descry A strange distraction in perplexed eyes When they contemplate vulgar rarities And such as from meere nat'rall causes spring As when they see the Sun-beames wrastling With interposed shades this eclyps'd light Darts an astonishment unto their sight Good God thus will they say that which did show Such beauteous rayes how is it darkned now Where is that beaming glory which reviv'd Th' inferiour Orbe how is it now depriv'd Of his late full-spread vigour how 't is spent Which gave to all things life and nourishment Draw nearer wondring Mortals and see heere A glorious Light reft from our Hemispheere One upon whose cleare brow no Cloud e're sat Nor e're ey'd Object that she aimed at But what she might affect nor personate An unbeseeming introduced state Nor gloze in painted goodnesse nor expresse More than her Soule did inwardly professe Nor feed her fancy with conceipts of time But clos'd her Lifes Act with a Scene divine And this same taking beauty now is gone Reft from our sight which while we thinke upon 'T is not sufficient to bemoane her death But to observe how sweetly vertues breath In her expired Corpse and that her Fate Blest Fate h 'as left what wee 're to imitate Death from oblivion will exempt no blood Unlesse that Highnesse be recorded good For Monumentall structures may be said E●ected more for th' living than the dead These have their date and period and must turne To dust like mouldred ashes in an Urne Where vertue scornes such confines being knowne To leane on no supportance but her owne Nor doe I muse why thou should'st vertuous be Being deriv'd from such a Familie Whose Actions streame in goodnesse they who gave First life to thee no lesse Memorialls have In Times deserving Annals DORMERS name Retein's i th' accent a sufficient fame To second our assertion and to show Thy Mothers house was corresponding too In lineall acts of goodnesse and what might Give to a noble line a living light I 'le onely name Him whome ne're age could tax The all-approved-loved MVLLINAX Deare to his owne to strangers debonaire Deare to the Muses who Joves darlings are Firme where hee doth professe entire to such Who know but make no boast of knowing much And to summe all in one such a right Lord Hee scornes nought more then sleighting of his word Deriv'd from these that runs through all thy vaines Which by descent peculiar title claimes In thine now after thee to whom I meane In this expiring Ode t' addresse my Scene Blest Babes Sweet Graces for you are but three And may you bee as your House showes to mee Still gracious my sute shall be but one That you may represent Her that is gone In your surviving vertues First to you Right Noble Sir let 't be your taske to shew His name and nature * From HENRY now Earle of WORSTER his Grandfather whence you tooke your name Beleeve your Servant 't wil improve your fame And make you live belov'd I doe not care For guilded honour 't is a vading ayre That 's soone disperst a painted Trophie torne From tainted Heraldry displai'd in scorne Goodnes cloathes greatnes with a gracefull dresse And shines most glorious when it shews nought lesse So pleasing's humble Honour to each eye It wins affection in the Stander by Let but your Infant Honour thinke of this Summer shall rise in love and set in blisse Now to you Noble Ladies who may see Store of examples to endoctrine yee Some to deprave but in your tender brest Such num'rous seeds of native goodnesse rest Which freely ripened as they are begun May in due time to their perfection come With an exacter Patterne none can store you Then Her example who is gone before you Let her Life be the Line to regulate Your actions by the posture of her state Your constant'st Modell her sweet moderation In her discourse employment recreation Your clearest mirror for yee cannot erre In any these by imitating her Confirme your Mothers Anagram on Earth With this Emphatick Mott HEERE A BLEST BIRTH These Observations I may safely vow Will multiply more honours upon you More reall honours than these who incline To the phantastick fashions of our time For these are but admired for one day And straight their melting varnish drops away Whereas your grounded Colours dyde in graine Shall represent a State admits no staine Reteining these Sweet Ladies you 'l become Exemplar Paragons in Albion NOVV I approach my deare sad Lord to you Who having taken your late last adue Of your unequall'd Spouse are full of griefe To which divinest comforts breath reliefe Excuse me Honour'd Lord that you are plac't In this sad Scene of serious Sorrow last 'T was my desire that you should first digest These grounded griefes wherewith you are deprest Before revivall of them 'las you know I owe as much to you as I doe owe To the whole world without private aime To me or mine Save to my soveraigne Yea should you flow in teares as you doe flow You should not finde your poore MVSAEVS slow In the like tribute bee it only yours To yeeld your will unto th' Superiour powers Shee 's reft from you 't is true but shee is given By your division to be spous'd in heav'n Nor had she left her Mate her choice deare Love But onely for His love shee had above In whose translation there appeared heere A civill Combat 'twixt two Months i' th yeere So as none could definitively say Shee dide the first of June or last of May. Both wrastled like two Champions for the wall Which might give convoy to her Nuptiall A solemne sacred Nuptiall Where Heav'ns King Becomes the Bridegroome and where Angels sing Their Epithalamies and Saintly Quires With choicest ayres accomplish their desires Cloze then with your deare servant Heav'ns appeas'd You from your teares she from her griefes releas'd Which done your late ELIZA's Elegie Will wipe all teares from RAGLANDS Niobe Niobem mutamur in ipsam Epitaph PUre Shrinel to which that treasure is confin'd Obiit lun 1. Anno Dom. 1635. Till it be re-united to her mind Where ev'ry graine rose to so high a rate It past th' inferiour Orbe to estimate Nor had we lost the richesse of this Mine Had it not been too precious for the time Nor by injoyment of it so long blest But for His Sake by whom it was possest Who as his vertues style him man of men Onely deserv'd to weare so rich a gem For whose content Heav'ns might have pleas'd to spare And crown'd the joyes of such a peerelesse Paire But Stars shine clearest in their proper Spheere So shee more glorious than shee showed here ô were Earth numerous in such a birth It might be justly stiled Heav'n on Earth GENTIS HONOR VIRTVTIS AMOR SPECTABILIS UXOR CONDITA SVNT TVMVLO NON MORITVRA TVO Finis LEt 't not distaste my Lord that I have heere Annex'd th' Elegiack raptures of my Deare 'T is said that Polo the Tragedlan When hee on Stage to force some passion came Had his Sonnes ashes in an Urne enshrin'd To worke more deepe impressions in his mind The Emblem 's good this Fun'rall pile of ours Strucke passion in each line address'd to yours

RAGLANDS NIOBE OR ELIZAS ELEGIE Addressed to the unexpiring memory of the most noble Lady ELIZABETH HERBERT wife to the truly honourable EDWARD SOMERSET Lord HERBERT c. By RI. BRATHWAIT Esq Surrepta refulsit in orbe Clarior Imprinted by F. K. for Robert Bostocke at the Kings head in Saint Paul's Church-yard 1635. TO THE HONORABLE EDWARD SOMERSET Lord HERBERT my most noble and accomplish'd Lord Treasures of Comforts after these Tributes of teares PEruse your owne my Lord and be content Cōcluding hence on earth nought permanent But if in this inferiour Globe of ours Ought constant be it is my Zeale to yours NIOBAEUS ELISABETH HERBERT Anag Heere a blest birth HEare heere blest birth with thy divinest eares Thy true-devoted Servants funeral teares That 't may appeare our Muse hath done thee right In throbbing to this Age thy last good night RAGLANDS NIOBE Or ELIZA'S Elegie STil-silent Night unveile thy sable eies And eye the losse of this unequall'd prize Our Family bemones resolve to teares And sympathize with ev'ry one that beares A share in these sad rites When Starres doe fall Thou mak'st that Astrolabe thy Funerall Streight thou immasks thy face contracts thy blood And shrowds thy virgin beauty in a cloud Heare me Latona of all starres that were Or ever shone in this inferiour Spheere The truly purest and refinedst One Is from our Orbe to gaine more glory gone Why should not we then imitatours bee Of that compassion we conceive in thee Admit these Halcyon daies give Her encrease Of honour glory beauty plenty peace With that blest confluence of heav'nly store Which crownes pure soules when they arrive a shore Wee that are Mortals ever have more sense Of our owne want than others affluence Tell me thou State-surrounded STRAND canst finde Through all thy Prospects a selecter minde Cloath'd in a choicer dresse Pray looke about Thou canst not chuse but see some face peepe out T' attract the forc'd Spectator but that skin Is it so sleeke as 't ha's no staines within Is it a native tincture do'es it wooe The gazer without art or if it doe Is it accomplish'd with some better part To pollish nature with diviner art Ha's it adorning graces to make good The splendor of her beauty or her blood Can it converse with fashion and appeare Discreet in her election what to weare Can it send out her cies and not be tane Or to take Others make it not her aime Can it discourse without affected state Or hearken Lightnesse with a blushing hate Can it distinguish times and persons too Reserve a state without a seeming show Can it pursue the Object it affects With more divine than sensuall respects Can it esteeme of beauty as it is Imparadize her thoughts in future blisse Canst finde me this rare Phoenix I much doubt Thou loosest time in seeking of her out Two Phoenixes at once were never seene It is enough that such an One hath beene Thou hast indeed a choice varietye Of mortall beauties to surprize the eye Of a Zenocrates but so divine Would not suite well with fashions of the time Complete and complementall are two things Which different constructions ever brings For what 's an outward dresse or seeming faire A vading breath resolving into aire What 's permanent is good nor can it be So styl'd that 's short of this eternitie But thou hadst One in that Elysian grove A precious Sprigge of vertue beauty love Yea such a Seat as no diviner grace But in her Saintly bosome had a place One richly stor'd with all the gifts of nature Of gracefull presence and attractive feature And what was richer farre than all the rest An heav'nly fancy in an holy brest For shew me One within this Orbe of ours That was so young in yeares and old in houres So sweetly humble and compassionate So well compos'd i th' posture of her state So loyall in her love so firme to those Who in her Honour did their hopes repose And now me thinkes in this high overflow Of boundlesse sorrow I am fixt on you You sad Attendants whom she us'd to cheere With pleasing language while shee breathed heere The losse you feele is poiz'd above compare Yet as I live I love to beare a share In such depressive burdens for these bee As I am yours reflecting upon mee Let 's then a mutuall sorrow entertaine And moisten this dry earth that wanteth raine With our distreaming teares for Heav'ns have kept Thus long their Conduits shut and have not wept That with profuser treasures they might store Our native Mother and wet eies deplore This sad Occasion Sad indeed to us Who eye the Count'nance of that heavie house Where ev'ry Habit Object as we passe Proclaime thus much time is not as it was While ev'ry silent accent seemes to breath The last farewell of our Elizabeth Divine Elysian Lady O that eies Made Niobe's could rescue such a prize There is no mortall could so highly erre As did our last yeares weake Astronomer Who found no Eclypse in our Zodiake heere Nor any darknesse in this Hemispheere I have found One I 'm sure and more than I With a great inundation in each eye So as that part which we call Christalline Is now dissolved to a Sea of brine Teares be those Treasures which wee mortals use To pay to such we lov'd nor can wee chuse To doe lesse to this Shrine the scattred dust Of that diviner part which ' mongst the just Holds her eternall Annall tell me where I may my Object take without a teare No where O no where though all humane state Be by injunction subject unto fate Which solely makes distinction 'twixt the good And those who with foule actions staine pure blood For these make State a Subterfuge to guilt Ttriumphing in those conduits they have spilt Through their profuser bounty whereas those Who are to none but vice professed foes Live in their dissolution and receive A lasting odour from a dying grave Yet when such glorious Lights their splendor loose Not to themselves but to our earthly house As those faire structures have their glory lost Which by their breathing beauty shined most Who can dispense with griefe surcease to mone Unlesse hee bee a Stoicke or a stone I must confesse the Thracians did expresse An Embleme of our humane wretchednesse Who in a various straine of mone and mirth Wept whē men came joy'd when they went frō earth Which temper sure in earthly walls inclos'd Seemes in my judgement pretiously compos'd And such as wee should imitate yet when Like men we thinke how we convers'd with them Who now are closed from our longing eyes How much we their society did prize What choice delight we tooke in their resort How much their fame improved our report How short quicke-vading minutes dropt away How th' closing Ev'ning crown'd the cheerefull day What sweet Communion of Comforts too Which friend on friend did mutually bestow With what a rare Confection of