Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
spirit_n	belong_v	eternal_a	great_a	71	3	2.1566	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A54716	Poems by the most deservedly admired Mrs. Katherine Philips, the matchless Orinda ; to which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace, tragedies ; with several other translations out of French.; Poems. Selections	Philips, Katherine, 1631-1664.; Corneille, Pierre, 1606-1684. Horace. English.; Corneille, Pierre, 1606-1684. Mort de Pompée. English.	1667 (1667)	Wing P2033; ESTC R19299	158,166	358

can lament this loss though not express Nay if those ancient Bards had seen this Herse Who once in British shades spoke living Verse Their high concern for him had made them be Apter to weep than write his Elogy When on our Land that flood of woes was sent Which swallow'd all things sacred as it went The injur'd Arts and Vertues made his breast The Ark wherein they did securely rest For as that old one was toss'd up and down And yet the angry billows could not drown So Heav'n did him in this worse deluge save And made him triumph o're th' unquiet wave Who while he did with that wild storm contest Such real magnanimity express'd That he dar'd to be loyal in a time When 't was a danger made and thought a crime Duty and not ambition was his aim Who study'd Conscience ever more than Fame And thought it so desirable a thing To be prefer'd to suffer for his King That he all Fortunes spight had pardon'd her Had she not made his Prince a sufferer For whose lov'd cause he did both act and grieve And for it only did endure to live To teach the world what man can be and do Arm'd by Allegiance and Religion too His head and heart mutual assistance gave That being still so wise and this so brave That 't was acknowledg'd all he said and did From judgment and from honour did proceed Such was the useful mixture of his mind 'T was at once meek and knowing stout and kind For he was civil bountiful and learn'd And for his Friends so generously concern'd That both his heart and house his hand and tongue To them more than himself seem'd to belong As if to his wrong'd party he would be Both an Example and Apology For when both Swords and Pens ceas'd the dispute His life alone Rebellion did confute But when his Vows propitious Heaven had heard And our unequal'd King at length appear'd As aged Simeon did his spirits yield When he had seen his dearest hopes fulfil'd He gladly saw the morning of that day Which Charles his growing splendour did display Then to Eternal joies made greater haste Because his present ones flow'd in so fast From which he fled out of a pious fear Lest he by them should be rewarded here While his sad Country by his death have lost Their noblest Pattern and their greatest boast Orinda to Lucasia 1. OBserve the weary birds e're night be done How they would fain call up the tardy Sun With Feathers hung with dew And trembling voices too They court their glorious Planet to appear That they may find recruits of spirits there The drooping Flowers hang their heads And languish down into their beds While Brooks more bold and fierce than they Wanting those beams from whence All things drink influence Openly murmur and demand the day 2. Thou my Lucasia art far more to me Than he to all the under-world can be From thee I 've heat and light Thy absence makes my night But ah my Friend it now grows very long The sadness weighty and the darkness strong My tears its dew dwell on my cheeks And still my heart thy dawning seeks And to the mournfully it cries That if too long I wait Ev'n thou may'st come too late And not restore my life but close my eyes To Celimena FOr bear fond heart say I torment no more That Celimena whom thou dost adore For since so many of her Chains are proud How canst thou be distinguish'd in the crowd But say bold trifler what dost thou pretend Wouldst thou depose thy Saint into thy Friend Equality in friendship is requir'd Which here were criminal to be desir'd An Answer to another perswading a Lady to Marriage 1. FOrbear bold Youth all 's Heaven here And what you do aver To others Courtship may appear 'T is Sacriledge to her 2. She is a publick Deity And were 't not very odd She should depose her self to be A petty Houshold God 3. First make the Sun in private shine And bid the World adieu That so he may his beams confine In complement to you 4. But if of that you do despair Think how you did amiss To strive to fix her beams which are More bright and large than this Lucasia and Orinda Parting with Pastora and Phillis at Ipswich 1. IN your converse we best can read How constant we should be But 't is in losing that we need All your Philosphy 2. How perish'd is the joy that 's past The present how unsteady What comfort can be great and last When this is gone already 3. Yet that it subtly may torment The memory does remain For what was when enjoy'd content Is in its absence pain 4. If you 'll restore it we 'll not grieve That Fate does now us sever 'T is better by your gift to live Than by our own endeavour Epitaph on my truly honoured Publius Scipio TO the officious Marble we commit A Name above the art of time or wit 'T is righteous Valiant Scipio whose life we Found the best Sermon and best History Whose Courage was no Aguish bru'tish heat But such as spoke him good as well as great Which first Engaged his Arms to prop the State Of the almost undone Palatinate And help the Nether-Lands to stem the tide Of Romes ambition and the Austrian Pride Which shall in every History be fam'd Wherein Breda or Frankendale are nam'd And when forced by his Country's angry Stars To be a Party in her Civil Wars He so much conduct by his Valour taught So wisely govern'd and so bravely Faught That the English Annals shall this Record bear None better could direct or further dare Form'd both for War and Peace was brave in fight And in Debate judicious and upright Religion was his first and highest care Which rul'd his Heart in Peace his Hand in War Which at the least Sin made him tremble still And rather stand a Breach than act an Ill For his great Heart did such a temper show Stout as Rock yet soft as melting Snow In him so prudent and yet so sinsere The Serpent much the Dove did more appear He was above the little arts of state And scorn'd to sell his peace to mend his Fate Anxious of nothing but an inward spot His hand was open but his Conscience not Just to his Word to all Religions kind In duty strict in Bounty unconfin'd And yet so modest 't was to him less pain To do great things then hear them told again Perform sad Stone thy honourable trust Unto his memory and thy self be just For his immortal name shall thee befriend And pay thee back more same then thou canst lend To Mr. Sam. Cooper having taken Lucasia 's Picture given December 14. 1660. 1. IF noble things can noble thoughts infuse Your Art might even in me create a Muse And what you did inspire you would Excuse 2. But if it such a Miracle could do That Muse would not return you half your due

and for its Opulence But all great things must be from us remov'd To be with higher reverence belov'd So Landskips which in Prospects distant lye With greater wonder draw the pleased Eye Is not great Troy to one dark ruine hurl'd Once the fam'd Scene of all the fighting world Where 's Athens now to whom Rome Learning owes And the safe Lawrels that adorn'd her brows A strange reverse of Fate she did endure Never once greater than she 's now obscure E'ne Rome herself can but some footsteps show Of Scipio's times or those of Cicero And as the Roman and the Grecian State The British fell the spoil of Time and Fate But though the Language hath the beauty lost Yet she has still some great Remains to boast For 't was in that the sacred Bards of old In deathless Numbers did their thoughts unfold In Groves by Rivers and on fertile Plains They civiliz'd and taught the list'ning Swains Whilst with high raptures and as great success Virtue they cloath'd in Musick 's charming dress This Merlin spoke who in his gloomy Cave Ev'n Destiny her self seem'd to enslave For to his sight the future time was known Much better than to others is their own And with such state Predictions from him fell As if he did Decree and not Foretel This spoke King Arthur who if Fame be true Could have compell'd Mankind to speak it too In this once Boadicca valour taught And spoke more nobly than her Souldiers fought Tell me what Hero could do more than she Who fell at once for Fame and Liberty Nor could a greater Sacrifice belong Or to her Childrens or her Countries wrong This spoke Caractacus who was so brave That to the Roman Fortune check he gave And when their Yoke he could decline no more He it so decently and nobly wore That Rome her self with blushes did believe A Britain would the Law of Honour give And hastily his chains away she threw Lest her own Captive else should her subdue To the Countess of Thanet upon her marriage SInce you who Credit to all wonders bring That Lovers can believe or Poets sing Whose only shape and fashion does express Your Vertue is your nature not your dress In whom the most admir'd extreams appear Humble and Fair Prudent and yet sincere Whose matchless worth transmits such splendid raies As those that envy it are forc'd to praise Since you have found such an illustrious sphere And are resolv'd to fix your glories there A heart whose bravery to his Sex secures As much Renown as you have done to yours And whose perfections in obtaining you Are both discover'd and rewarded too 'T were almost equal boldness to invent How to increase your Merit or Content Yet sure the Muses somewhat have to say But they will send it you a better way The Court which so much to your lustre owes Must also pay you its officious vows But whilst this shews respect and those their art Let me too speak the language of my heart Whose ruder Off'rings dare approach your shrine For you who merit theirs can pardon mine Fortune and Virtue with such heat contend As once for Rome now to make you their friend And you so well can this prefer to that As you can neither fear nor mend your Fate Yet since the votes of joy from all are due A love like mine must find some wishes too May you in this bright Constellation set Still shew how much the Good outshine the Great May you be courted with all joies of sense Yet place the highest in your innocence Whose praise may you enjoy but not regard Finding within both motive and reward May Fortune still to your commands be just Yet still beneath your kindness or your trust May you no trouble either feel or fear But from your pity for what others wear And may the happy owner of your breast Still find his passion with his joys encreas'd Whilst every moment your concern makes known And gives him too fresh reason for his own And from their Parents may your Off-spring have All that is wise and lovely soft and brave Or if all wishes we in one would give For him and for the world Long may you live EPITAPH On her Son H. P. at St. Syth 's Church where her body also lies Interred WHat on Earth deserves our trust Youth and Beauty both are dust Long we gathering are with pain What one moment calls again Seven years childless marriage past A Son a son is born at last So exactly lim'd and fair Full of good Spirits Meen and Air As a long life promised Yet in less than six weeks dead Too promising too great a mind In so small room to be confin'd Therefore as fit in Heav'n to dwell He quickly broke the Prison shell So the subtle Alchimist Can't with Hermes Seal resist The powerful spirit 's subtler flight But t' will bid him long good night And so the Sun if it arise Half so glorious as his Eyes Like this Infant takes a shrowd Buried in a morning Cloud On the death of my Lord Rich only Son to the Earl of Warwick who dyed of the small Pox 1664. HAve not so many lives of late Suffis'd to quench the greedy thirst of Fate Though to encrease the mournful purple Flood As well as Noble she drank Royal Blood That not content against us to engage Our own wild fury and Usurpers rage By sickness now when all that storm is past She strives to hew our Heros down as fast And by the Prey she chuses shews her Aim Is to extinguish all the English Fame Else had this generous Youth we now have lost Been still his Friends delight and Country's boast And higher rais'd the Illustrious Name he bore Than all our Chronicles had done before Had Death consider'd e're he struck this blow How many noble hopes 't would overthrow The Genius of his House who did complain That all her Worthies now dy'd o're again His flourishing and yet untainted years His Fathers anguish and his Mothers tears Sure he had been perswaded to relent Nor had for so much early sweetness sent That fierce Disease which knows not how to spare The Young the Great the Knowing or the Fair. But we as well might flatter every wind And court the Tempests to be less unkind As hope from churlish Death to snatch his Prey Who is as furious and as deaf as they And who hath cruelly surpriz'd in him His Parents joy and all the World's esteem Say treacherous hopes that whisper in our ear Still to expect some steady comfort here And though we oft discover all your Arts Would still betray our disappointed Hearts What new delusion can you now prepare Since this pale object shews how false you are 'T will fully answer all you have to plead If we reply Great Warwick's Heir is dead Blush humane Hopes and Joies and then be all In solemn mourning at this Funeral For since such expectations brittle prove What can we

will declare Their voice perhaps may strike the Ear But it can never move the heart Th' obscure and naked Word they sow But thou dost open our dim Eye And the dead letter to supply The Living Spirit dost bestow Mysterious truth 's to us they brought But thou expound'st the Riddle too And thou alone canst make us do All the great things that they have taught They may indeed the way direct But thou inablest us to walk I' th ear alone sticks all they talk But thou dost even the Heart dessect They wash the surface of the mind But all her fruit thy Goodness claims All that e're enlightens or enflames Must be to that alone assign'd POMPEY A Tragedy LONDON Printed for H. Herringman and are to be sold at his Shop at the Blew-Anchor in the lower walk of the new Exchange 1667. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE Countess of Cork Madam AS some untimely Flower whose bashful head Ready to drop into her humble Bed Is rescu'd by the Sun 's prevailing Ray To share that Light with which he guilds the Day So this Translation of strict Eyes afraid With conscious blushes would have sought a shade When your resistless Power did Orders give Thus to recall the timerous Fugitive Which to your breath must all her being own Thrive when you smile and wither if you frown Yet from submission this assurance grows That you 'll protect the Person you expose Who more delight from such a shelter draws Than to obtain or to desire applause And your indulgence would much rather chuse Than to be Favorite to every Muse For even they request to wait on you Who can best judge and best reward them too You who are more than Poets can invent Of most illustrious and most innocent Under your beams their faint Ideas sink And you more nobly live than they could think In you the humble and the brave are met To shew what 's truly and what 's only great And all the Cliffords Fame in you does shine The greatest Honour of the Noblest Line To whom your debt of splendour you have paid And that and more to after times convey'd In such a Race as must those wonders do That none could act but they inspire but you But as your Merit does all Praise excel So does your Mercy all injurious zeal And you in that ador'd advantage live That nothing else is left you to forgive But ev'n your goodness will its self outshine If it can pardon this Address of mine So Altars once did Fire from Heaven enjoy Sent but to kindle what it might destroy The Printer to the Reader I Hope you expect no Eloquence from a Printer nor Regularity in a Preface which hath nothing to say to you but that Pompey being a Translation out of the French of Monsieur Corneille the Hand that did it is responsible for nothing but the English and the Songs between the Acts which were added only to lengthen the Play and make it fitter for the Stage when those that could not be resisted were resolved to have it acted and that no abuses of Transcribers though they were numerous could have prevailed to send it to the Press if the Person most concern'd had not fear'd to disobey an excellent Lady who commanded this publication more than the severity of the Censorious World The Persons of the Play Julius Caesar Marcus Antonius Lepidus Ptolomy King of Aegypt Cleopatra His Sister Photinus His Governour Achillas His Lieutenant General Septimius A Romane Tribune in the Aegyptian Kings Army Achoreus Cleopatra's Gentleman Usher Charmion Cleopatra's Maid of Honour Cornelia Pompey's Widdow Philip Pompey's Freedman Romans and Aegyptians The Scene Ptolomy's Pallace in Alexandria PROLOGUE For the Theatre at Dublin written by the Earl of Roscomon THe mighty Rivals whose destructive Rage Did the whole World in Civil Arms engage Are now agreed and make it both their Choice To have their Fates determin'd by your Voice Caesar from none but You will hear his Doom He hates th' obsequious Flatteries of Rome He scorns where once he rul'd now to be try'd And he hath rul'd in all the World beside When he the Thames the Danube and the Nile Had stain'd with Blood Peace flourish'd in this Isle And you alone may Boast you never saw Caesar 'till now and now can give him Law Great Pompey too comes as a suppliant here But sayes He cannot now begin to fear He knows your equal Justice and to tell A Roman Truth He knows himself too well Success t is true waited on Caesar's side But Pompey thinks he conquer'd when he dy'd His Fortune when she prov'd the most unkind Chang'd his Condition but not Cato's Mind Then of what Doubt can Pompey's Cause admit Since here so many Cato's Judging sit But you bright Nymphs give Caesar leave to woo To the Ladies The greatest Wonder of the World but you And hear a Muse who has that Hero taught To speak as gen'rously as e're he fought Whose Eloquence from such a Theme deters All Tongues but English and all Pens but Hers. By the just Fates your Sex is doubly blest You Conquer'd Caesar and you praise him best And You Illustrious Sir receive as due A present Destiny reserv'd for You. To the Lord Lieutenant Rome France and England join their Forces here To make a Poem worthy of your Ear. Accept it then and on that Pompey's Brow Who gave so many Crowns bestow one now POMPEY ACT I. SCENE I. Ptolomy Achillas Photinus Septimius PTOLOMY FAte hath declar'd her self and we may see Th' Intrigue of the great Rivals Destiny That quarrel which did all the Gods divide Pharsalia hath the Honour to decide Whose Rivers swelling with new bloody Tides Sent thither from so many Parricides The Horrour of torn Ensigns Chariots Shields Spread in Confusion o're th' infected Fields Those slaughter'd heaps whose shades no rest obtain'd By Nature to their own revenge constrain'd Their Putrefactions seeming to revive The War with those that do remain alive Are dreadful rules by which the Sword thinks fit Pompey to cast and Caesar to acquit That distress'd Leader of the Juster Side Whose wearied Fortune hath all Help deny'd A terrible Example will create To future times of the Extreams of Fate He flies whose happy Courage had till now Confin'd the Bay to his Victorious Brow He in our Ports chuses his last Retreat And wanting Refuge from a Foe so great His bold Misfortune seeks it in abodes Which from the Titans once preserv'd the Gods And from so fam'd a Climate doth expect That it should Earth as well as Heav'n protect And lending his Despair a kind Effort It should the staggering Universe support Yes the World's Fortune Pompey with him brings And hopes a Land whose Fame such Wonder sings A Prop or Tomb might to her Freedom give And Pompey's Fall attend if not relieve This Friends the Subject is of our debate Our Triumphs he or Ruine will create He hazards me who did my