Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
lord_n	die_v	live_v	sin_n	11,389	5	5.6072	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

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

Therefore I déeme as I at first begon I would be mery but my myrth is done The louer by froward happe inforced to forsake loue enforceth him selfe by trauell to seeke out the forte of fame THe world is chaungd my wits are woond about fancie is forced to leaue her fond desire From vaine delites dame Vertue driues me out and wisedom will what reason doth require My wanton wits are warnd by sacred I kill to flie the follies of 〈◊〉 will I now must leaue to write of louers toyes in Cupids Court I must no longer keepe Nor sporte my selfe in wanton pleasures layes nor longer lye in fancies lappe a sléepe I now must wake and set my selfe to schoole to sée how longe that I haue lyude a foole And I must nowe some tyme in trauell spend to seeke in tyme the gallant forte of fame That when alas my lothed lyfe doth end my workes may leaue remembraunce of my name And I may showe though longe I went astraye I founde at last dame vertues heauenly waye The louer forsaken craueth speedie death A Wretched case it is to sitte and cry where none are neare to helpe the harmed harte A greater gréefe where present aide is nye and yet by spyghte is onely kept a parte But yet most gréefe when helpe is hard at call and yet alas can do no good at all In such a case loe cursed wretche I stand my heauie harte full sore for comforte cryes Yet none can get yet some is hard at hande which in despighte accursed hap denyes And some I haue which woulde somwhat content but doth in deede my sorrowes more augment The secreat cause alas for shame I hide since folly first was worker of my woe By want of witte which wisdome hath discride and I do now by secreate sorrowe showe Therefore consumde come kill me death I crye in deede resolud and well content to dye A Comparison betwene thraldome and libertie THe little birde that close in kage is pente which ladies loue to sitte and whistle by Some say doth singe but layes of deepe lament and cheareles chirpes for losse of libertie Esteeming more her mates abrode in fielde then courtly toyes that chiefest pleasure yelde But contrarie oh happy birde thinke I so luckely to light in fowlers snare As to be brought to stand in pallas hye and eke in courte to féede on princely fare And shortly there in fauor so to stande as to be fed at fairest ladies hand Would God I were a birde in prison pent so I might still beholde my heauenly Quene If that I sing one note of deepe lament that day when I my Princes grace haue séene Wring of my necke or fling me out of dore as worthie then to kepe in court no more A warning to all estates The gallant mind when store of coyne is spent by rare exploytes must seeke to purchase praise Though honor fall to some by due descent good happe doth hit a thousand sundrie wayes Yet oftentimes in seeking high renowne the hautie hart hard Fortune flingeth downe The souldiour thinkes by sword to winne his wish when oft is séene the sword doth cut him short The sea man seekes in déepest floods to fish when drowning proues a cold vnpleasant sport The marchaunt meanes to winne the world by wares when oft his cost doth yéeld him nought but cares Now some againe build castels in the ayre which many times fall tumbling on their neckes And some will seeme to sit in stately chaire which are sometime set downe with deadly checkes In s●●e I find the brauest mind o● all is highest set but ha●d before a fall The miserie of loue BEwrapt in woe 〈…〉 with wretched will orecome with ●ares deepe drenched in distresse Pining in paine aliue but dying still crying for helpe but finding no redresse A life I lead the Lord of heauen doth know much worse then death to mourne in sorrow so But what auailes when fates and fortune froune when moone and starres are now become my foes When from delite despite doth keepe me downe and cares my corpes do round about inclose Abide I must as destinies ordaine thus like a wretch to 〈◊〉 away in paine Or loathed life that wretched thus I lead tenne times 〈◊〉 such cursed happe to know Or cruell 〈◊〉 co●e cut a two the thread that draweth forth my dayes in sorrow so Oh sorrow 〈◊〉 thy soking sighes dospill me all dole adew come you good death and kill me Or else good God who from aboue dost see the secret cause of all my cutting care And knowes and hast what thing will comfort me vouchsafe some drop of mercie me to spare That so my hart that long hath bid in griefe may praise thy name for tending my releefe In wanton youth my fancy thought a while there was no state nor life so sweete as loue But now I find how well did wit beguile and I the paine of such a pleasure proue I needes must say by true experience taught I find in deede the state of loue starke naught For first the wise loue makes become a foole the souldiour stout the rich not worth a grote The learned clarke it sets againe to schoole to learne an art wherewith to cut his throate It makes the man most free become a slaue and many times an honest man a knaue The Lord of loue Cupid him selfe is blind yet shootes by ame and oft vnhappely hits He hurts the hart and quite doth dimme the mind and with vile wayes doth ouerwhealme the wits What shall I say who knew so much as I would deeme of loue a wofull misery A meane is best WHen I sometime with griefe enough beheld the gallant troupe of brauenes in their kind Some swime in silke some siluer pearle and gold and I poore soule come meanely clad behind Good Lord I thinke what kind of world is this when some so thriue some fare so farre amisse But when againe I see some lusty lad whom I my selfe haue knowne in meane estate And in respect but silly simple swads and none to kepe so high and stately gate Well yet thinke I this wil not euer last the tides doe flow but ebbe againe as fast The prouerbe says that pride wil haue a fall who hath no lands nor yet no rents I sée When money melts and fethers gin to fall wil be ful glad to come and folow me Loe this is all the sodaine ioy I haue when richly clad I sée a rascall knaue An other FRom leathed bed my lustles limmes I lifte with heauy hart with sorow not with sléepe But sigh and sobbe I sée no other shift such careful thoughts my mind in thraldome kéepes No Musickes mirth nor any sweete delight may once reuiue my ouer dulled spright Yet can I sing and how but as the swan a doleful dumpe when death is hard at hand And so perhaps poore wretch I thinke I can sing such a note as none shal vnderstand Which song perhaps shall please but