Selected quad for the lemma: land_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
land_n	darkness_n	death_n	shadow_n	3,756	5	10.1492	5	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A01502	The tragedie of Antonie. Doone into English by the Countesse of Pembroke; Marc Antoine. English	Garnier, Robert, 1544-1590.; Pembroke, Mary Sidney Herbert, Countess of, 1561-1621.	1595 (1595)	STC 11623; ESTC S105701	30,093	112

Reframes reformes it selfe and stealingly Retakes his force and rebecomes more great For of thy Queene the lookes the grace the words Sweetnes alurements amorous delights Entred againe thy soule and day and night In watch in sleepe her Image follow'd thee Not dreaming but of her repenting still That thou for warre hadst such a goddes left Thou car'st no more for Parth nor Parthian bow Sallies assaults encounters shocks alarmes For ditches rampiers wards entrenched grounds Thy only care is sight of Nilus streames Sight of that face whose gilefull semblant doth Wandring in thee infect thy tainted hart Her absence thee besottes each hower each hower Of staie to thee impatient seemes an age Enough of conquest praise thou deem'st enough If soone enough the bristled fields thou see Of fruitfull Aegipt and the stranger floud Thy Queenes faire eyes another Pharos lights Returned loe dishonoured despisde In wanton loue a woman thee misleades Sunke in foule sinke meane while respecting nought Thy wife Octauia and her tender babes Of whome the long contempt against thee whets The sword of Caesar now thy Lord become Lost thy great Empire all those goodly townes Reuerenc'd thy name as rebells now thee leaue Rise against thee and to the ensignes flocke Of conqu'ring Caesar who enwalles thee round Cag'd in thy hold scarse maister of thy selfe Late maister of so many Nations Yet yet which is of griefe extreamest griefe Which is yet of mischiefe highest mischiefe It 's Cleopatra alas alas it 's she It 's she augments the torment of thy paine Betraies thy loue thy life alas betraies Caesar to please whose grace she seekes to gaine With thought her crowne to saue and fortune make Onely thy foe which common ought haue beene If her I alwaies lou'd and the first flame Of her heart-killing loue shall burne me last Iustly complaine I she disloyall is Nor constant is euen as I constant am To comfort my mishap despising me No more then when the heauens fauour'd me But ah by nature women wau'ring are Each moment changing and rechanging mindes Vnwise who blinde in them thinkes loyaltie Euer to finde in beauties companie Chorus The boyling tempest still makes not Sea waters fome nor still the Northern blast disquiets quiet streames Nor who his chest to fill sayles to the morning beames on waues winde tosseth fast still kepes his ship from home Nor Ioue still downe doth cast inflam'd with bloudie ire on man on tree on hill his darts of thundring fire nor still the heat doth last on face of parched plaine nor wrinkled colde doth still on frozen furrowes raigne But still as long as we in this low world remaine mishapps our daily mates our liues doe intertaine and woes which beare no dates still pearch vpon our heads none go but straight will be some greater in their steads Nature made vs not free When first she made vs liue When we began to be To be began our woe Which growing euermore As dying life doth growe Do more and more vs greeue And tire vs more and more No stay in fading states For more to height they retch Their fellow miseries The more to height do stretch They cling euen to the crowne And threatning furious wise From tirannizing pates Do often pull it downe In vaine on waues vntride To shun them go we should To Scythes and Massagetes Who neere the Pole reside In vaine to boiling sandes Which Phaebus battry beates For with vs still they would Cut seas and compasse landes The darknes no more sure To ioyne with heauy night The light which guildes the days To follow Titan pure No more the shadow light The body to ensue Then wretchednes alwaies Vs wretches to pursue O blest who neuer breath'd Or whome with pittie mou'de Death from his cradle reau'de And swadled in his graue And blessed also he As curse may blessing haue Who low and liuing free No princes charge hath prou'de By stealing sacred fire Prometheus then vnwise prouking Gods to ire the heape of ills did sturre and sicknes pale and colde our ende which onward spurre to plague our hands too bolde to filch the wealth of skies In heauens hate since then of ill with ill enchain'd we race of mortall men ful fraught our brests haue borne and thousand thousand woes our heau'nly soules now thorne which free before from those no! earthly passion pain'd Warre and warrs bitter cheare now long time with vs staie and feare of hated foe still still encreaseth sore our harmes worse dayly grow lesse yesterday they were then now and will be more to morrow then to day Act. 2. Philostratus What horrible furie what cruell rage O Aegipt so extremely thee torments Hast thou the Gods so angred by thy fault Hast thou against them some such crime conceiu'd That their engrained hand lift vp in threats They should desire in thy heart bloud to bathe And that their burning wrath which noght cā quēch Should pittiles on vs still lighten downe We are not hew'n out of the monst'rous masse Of Giantes those which heauens wrack conspir'd Ixions race false prater of his loues Nor yet of him who fained lightnings found Nor cruell Tantalus nor bloudy Atreus Whose cursed banquet for Thyestes plague Made the beholding Sunne for horrour turne His backe and backward from his course returne And hastning his wing-footed horses race Plunge him in sea for shame to hide his face While sulleine night vpon the wondring world For mid-daies light her starrie mantle cast But what we be what euer wickednesse By vs is done Alas with what more plagues More eager torments could the Gods declare To heauen and earth that vs they hatefull holde With souldiors strangers horrible in armes Our land is hidde our people drown'd in teares But terror here and horror nought is seene And present death prising our life each hower Hard at our ports and at our porches waites Our conquering foe harts faile vs hopes are dead Our Queene laments and this great Emperour Somtime would now they did whom worlds did fear Abandoned betraid now mindes no more But from his euils by hast'ned death to passe Come you poore people ti'rde with ceasles plaints With teares and sighes make mournful sacrifice On Isis altars not our selues to saue But soften Caesar and him piteous make To vs his praie that so his lenitie May change our death into captiuitie Strange are the euils the fates on vs haue brought O but alas how far more strange the cause Loue loue alas who euer would haue thought Hath lost this Realme inflamed with his fire Loue playing loue which men say kindles not But in soft hearts hath ashes made our townes And his sweet shafts with whose shot none are kill'd Which vlcer not with deaths our lands haue fill'd Such was the bloudie murdring hellish loue Possest thy hart faire false guest Priams sonne Firing a brand which after made to burne The Troian towers by Graecians ruinate By this loue Priam Hector Troilus Memnon Deiphaebus Glancus thousands mo Whome