Selected quad for the lemma: kingdom_n
Text snippets containing the quad
|
ID |
Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
Words |
Pages |
|
A08186
|
Sir Thomas Ouerburies vision With the ghoasts of Weston, Mris. Turner, the late Lieftenant of the Tower, and Franklin. By R.N. Oxon.
|
Niccols, Richard, 1584-1616.
|
1616
(1616)
|
STC 18524; ESTC S113209
|
19,388
|
60
|
perhaps haue happy liu'd and long Did euer fortune pinch him with constraint That little wealth I had supply'd his want Did euer cares perplex his feeble braine What wit I had his weakenesse did sustaine Did euer error make him doe amisse What wisedome I had learn'd was euer his My wit my wealth and wisedome with good chaunce In his great honours May game lead the daunce I doe not falsly boast the gifts of mind Best wittes can iudge my Wife I left behind Vnto the world a witnesse may remaine I had no dull conceit no barren braine But as a dogge that at his pray doth ame Doth onely loue the water for his game Which once obtain'd he playing then no more Shakes off the water when he comes on shore So my great Friend no friend but my great Foe Safe swimming in that way which I did showe Through dangers waters after honours game Did shake me off when I had gain'd the same Vaine man too late thou do'st repent my wrong That huge great sayle of Honour was too strong For thy great boate wanting thy friend to steare In this thy weakenesse and my worth appeare O hadst thou kept the path by me begunne That other impious race thou hadst not runne In wayes of vice thy steps I did not guide Onely for vertue Ouerburie di'd But had in gratitude no further gone I had not wail'd with many a piteous grone These poysoned limbes O how will future times Blushing to heare such execrable crimes Beleeue report when then it shall be said Thou wast that man that man that me betray'd That sauage man that wanting meanes or heart Or rather both to meete with my desert Too cruell didst deuise to stop my breath To end thy care and my deare life by death Death oh no death but thousand deathes in one For had it bin but meere priuation Of loued life my greiued Ghoast had fled Without such paine and anguish to the dead O wretched foes why did yee take delight To excercise your hate with such despight Vpon a guiltlesse man what had I done But that yee might when as ye first begunne Your tragicke plot and did my life awaite With single death haue satisfied your hate Was it ah was it not enough to giue One poyson first and then to let me liue Till ye did please to giue an other then An other and an other but as men All made of flint to laugh my plaints to scorne And scoffe at me while I alas did mourne When in my chamber walls the very stones Sweat droppes for teares to heare my greiuous grones As sencelesse they would simpathize my woes Though my sad cries were musicke to my foes Let ages past vntill the worlds first day Shew all records of antique times and say If euer any did by poyson die That at his death had greater wrong then I. It was not one dayes space nor two nor three In which those cruell men tormented me Month after month they often did instill The diuers natures of that banefull ill Throughout these limbs inducing me to thinke That what I tooke in Physicke meate or drinke Was to restore me to my health when all Was but with lingring death to worke my fall Oh how my Ghoast doth quake when it suruayes This fatall house where I did end my daies And trembles as it suffered now againe Onely to thinke vpon that woefull paine When the slow poyson secretly did creepe Through all my veines and as it went did sweepe All ease with paine all rest with griefe away From euery corner of my house of clay Then did I loath my life but could not die Sometimes to God sometimes to men I crie To giue me ease of my tormenting hell Whose paine no pen can write no tongue can tell In vaine my tongue thou vtterd'st forth my cries To wicked men with teare-tormented eyes In vaine mine eies in you the teares did stand While I to heauen for helpe did lift my hand In vaine my hands were ye stretcht forth to heauen My time was set my life to death was giuen Tongue eyes and hands did often plead in vaine Nothing but death could ease me of my paine And death at last to my desire did yeeld Who with such furious force did take the field T' assayle my soule that 'gainst his matchlesse might In greater torment neuer man did fight With poison'd dart he at my life did strike The venome seazing on me vulture-like With torment tore my entrayles thence did runne Into my vaines and boyling there begunne A fresh assault which beeing a while withstood By natures force at last did seaze my blood Then victor-like possest of euery part It did assaile my yet not yeelding heart The soules cheife seate where hauing vanquisht all The powers of life while I to God did call For grace and mercy after sad sighs giuen With greiuous grones my soule fled hence to heauen O thou sad monument of Norman yoke Whose great foundation hee whose conquering stroke Did stoope our neckes to Norman rule first laid Looke thy records of those to death betray'd Within thy fatall chambers and there see If any murdered lost his life like mee Those royall roses of Plantaginest Which that white boare of Yorke that bloody beast Hath rooted vp within those walls of thine In death felt little paine compar'd to mine Thou knowest that King son to that kingly Knight Beneath whose sword in Agincourts great fight France fell vpon her knees thy flore did staine With his deare blood by bloody Richard slaine Thou didst looke on when Clarence blood was shed And didst behold how hee poore Duke halfe dead Yet bleeding fresh in Malmesie-but was dround Whose body sithence neuer could be found Thou sawst when Tirrels bloody slaues did smother This kingdomes vncrownd King and his young brother Those princely babes of Yorke thou heardst them crie When they betwixt the sheets did strangled die But to their paine death did swift end assigne Thou know'st their greifes were not so great as mine T' was not for naught that thy first builders hand Did temper blood with burned lime and sand So to conglutinate thy stony masse And bring the Conquerours will and worke to passe Well may it be thy walls with blood were built Where so much guiltlesse blood hath since bin spilt But here an end of all my paine and woe Death shuts vp all our greatest greifes for so All men would thinke but past all thought of minde My greatest greife alas is yet behind Oh why should fiercest beast of all the wood When hee hath slaine his foe and lickt his blood End hate in death and man with man in strife Not end his malice with the ende of life Can they be men and lords of beasts that beare Their Makers image and will yet not feare That ill which beasts abhorre in brutish minde Men O no men but monsters against kind Such monsters were my tyger-hearted foes Who