Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
spirit_n	eye_n	young_a	youth_n	32	3	7.6038	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A33611	A chain of golden poems embellished with wit, mirth, and eloquence : together with two most excellent comedies, (viz.) The obstinate lady, and Trappolin suppos'd a prince / written by Sr Aston Cokayn.; Chain of golden poems	Cokain, Aston, Sir, 1608-1684.; Cokain, Aston, Sir, 1608-1684. Obstinate lady.; Cokain, Aston, Sir, 1608-1684. Trappolin creduto principe.	1658 (1658)	Wing C4894; ESTC R20860	211,316	545

agree With tears on earth T is an Antipathie But 't is unnatural we should be glad And 't is Impiety we should be sad We must not grieve therefore nor yet rejoyce But fix us in the mean and shew us wise Be glad that we believe her soul is crown'd With endless Glory in Heavens ample Round Onely lament that we have lost our guide And wanting her are apt to wander wide We need not bid thee sleep secure that know That God himself rock'd thee asleep below Sweet Sainted Maid thou meritest the Pen Of Cherubims to shew thee unto men And dost deserve a bench of Poets grave To study and to write thine Epitaph Which in Mosaick work with diamonds bright Should be drawn out and read by it's own light A Titian or a Bonarota should Cast thee a Statue of pure Ophir Gold Had'st thou thy due the eager earth would sure Anatomize one India for Ore And precious stones a Pyramid to reare Lasting and great as the Egyptian were To thy eternal memorie and from Th e eastern-lands bring all the plenteous sum Of spices and perfumes and on the height Of that rich monument burn them day and night But 't is a thing impossibly too hard For men on earth to give thee thy reward Thy God whose power and love is infinite Thee hath and doth and ever will requite Among the Chorus of Heavens Virgins pure To sing Divinest Anthems evermore The homely verses I have writ she oft Hath smil'd upon approv'd them smooth and soft And if my pen hath power to give a fame Dear Isabella here shall live thy Name Had I the deathless Homer's brain and could Sing lofty numbers like to Maro Old A wit to match Sulmonean Ovid I Had writ a Poem not an Elegie T is known and I confess this is beneath Her Life and her expressions at her death Her resurrection plain will shew how well She led her life and bad the World Farewel 3. On the death of Henry Lord Hastings Son to the right Honourable Ferdinand Earl of Huntingdon c. KNow all to whom these few sad lines shall come This melancholy Epicedium The young Lord Hastings death occasion'd it Amidst a ●●orm of Lamentations writ Tempests of sighes and grones and flowing eyes Whose yielding balls dissolve to Deluges And mournful Numbers that with dreadful sound Waite his bemoned body to the ground Are all and the last duties we can pay The Noble Spirit that is fled away T is gone alas t is gone though it did leave A body rich in all Nature could give Superiour in beauty to the youth That won the Spartan Queen to forfeit truth Break wedlocks strictest bonds and be his wife Environed with tumults all her Life His years were in the balmie Spring of Age Adorn'd with blossomes ripe for marriage And but mature His sweet conditions known To be so good they could be none but 's own Our English Nation was enamour'd more On his full worth then Rome was heretofore Of great V●●pa●●an's Jew-subduing Heire The love and the Delight of mankind here After a large survey of Histories Our Criticks curious in honour wise In paralleling generous Souls will finde This youthful Lord did bear as brave a minde His few but well spent years had master'd all The liberal Arts And his sweet tongue could fall Into the ancient Dialects dispence Sacred Judeas amplest eloquence The La●ine Idiome elegantly true And Greek as rich as Athens ever knew Italy France and Spain did all confess Him perfect in their modern Languages At his Nativity what angry Star Malignant influences slung so far What Caput Algolls and what dire Aspects Occasioned so tragical effects As soon as death this fatal blow had given I fancy mighty Clarence sigh'd in Heaven And till this glorious Soul arrived there Recover'd not from his Amaze and fear Had this befal'n in ancient credulous times He had been deifi'd by Poets rimes That Age enamour'd of his Graces soon Majestick Fanes in adoration Would have rays'd to his memory and there On golden Altars year succeeding year Burnt holy incense and Sabaean Gums That Curles of vapour from those Hecatombs Sould reach his Soul in Heaven but we must pay No such Oblations in our purer way A nobler Service we him owe then that His fair example ever t'emulate With the Advantage of our double years Le ts imitate him and through all Affairs And all Encounters of our Lives intend To live like him and make as good an end To aim at brave things is an evident signe In Spirits that to honour they incline And though they do come short in the Contest T is full of glory to have done one's best You mournful Parents whom the Fates compel To bear the Loss of this great miracle This wonder of our Times amidst a sigh Surrounded with your thick'st Calamity Reflect on joy think what an happiness Though humane Nature oft conceits it less It was to have a Son of so much worth He was too good to grace the wretched earth As silver Trent through our North Countries glides Adorn'd with Swans crown'd with flowry sides And rushing into mightier Humbers Waves Augments the Regal Aestuarium's Braves So he after a life of eighteen years Well mannaged Example to our Peeres In 's early youth encountring sullen Fate Orecome became a Trophey to his State Didst thou sleep Hymen or art lately grown T' affect the Subterranean Region Enamour'd on bleard Libentina's eyes Hoarse-howling Dirges and the baleful Cries Of Inauspicious voices and above Thy Star-like torch with horrid tombs in love Thou art or surely hadst oppos'd this high Affront of death against thy Deity Nor wrong'd an excellent Virgin who had given Her heart to him who hath his Soul to Heaven Whose Beauties thou hast clouded and whose eyes Drowned in tears at these sad Exequies The fam'd Heroes of the golden Age Those Demigods whose vertues did asswage And calm the furies of the wildest mindes That were grown salvage even against their kinds Might from their Constellations have look'd down And by this young Lord seen themselves out-gon Farewel Admired Spirit that art free From this strict Prison of Mortalitie Ashby proud of the honour to enshrine The beauteous Body whence the Soul Divine Did lately part be careful of thy trust That no profane hand wrong that hallow'd Dust The Costly Marble needes no friend t'engrave Upon it any doleful Epitaph No good Man's tongue that Office will decline Whil'st years succeeding reach the end of time 4. On the death of my dear Cousin Germane Mrs. Olive Cotton who deceased at Berisford the 38th year of her Age and lyes buried at Bently by Ashbourne c. AMongst the many that shall celebrate With sighes and tears this excellent womans Fate And with the many that shall fix a verse Sacred unto her Fame upon her Herse World pardon me my boldness that intrude These few poor lines upon thy Multitude They need not read them I have

nothing we should hate They whom all nations for Heroick soules And vertuous Actions above the Poles Have ●nthroniz'd did nought we should condemn And therefore Lovely One let 's follow them Strict Hymens rules wherefore should we obey Which on themselves the Gods did never lay Is it more honour to observe the lives Of surly Cato's then the Deities Away with fear 'T is reason prompts you to What I desire and love me what to do And therefore do not blush unless it be Because so many will envy thee and me Yet Madam know after so much exprest I honour vertue and have writ in jest 7. To my Cousin Mr. Charles Cotton I Wonder Cousin that you would permit So great an Injury to Fletcher's wit Your friend and old Companion that his fame Should be divided to anothers name If Beaumont had writ those Plays it had been Against his merits a detracting Sin Had they been attributed also to Fletcher They were two wits and friends and who Robs from the one to glorifie the other Of these great memories is a partial Lover Had Beaumont liv'd when this Edition came Forth and beheld his ever living name Before Plays that he never writ how he Had frown'd and blush'd at such Impiety His own Renown no such Addition needs To have a Fame sprung from anothers deedes And my good friend Old Philip Massinger With Fletcher writ in some that we see there But you may blame the Printers yet you might Perhaps have won them to do Fletcher right Would you have took the pains For what a foul And unexcusable fault it is that whole Volume of plays being almost every one After the death of Beaumont writ that none Would certifie them so much I wish ●s free Y 'had told the Printers this as you did me Surely you was to blame A Forreign wit Ownes in such manner what an English writ Joseph of Exeters Heroick piece Of the long fatal war 'twixt Troy and Greece Was Printed in Corn●lius Nepos Name And robs our Countreyman of much of 's fame 'T is true Beaumont and Fletcher both were such Sublime wits none could them admire too much They were our English Polestars and did beare Between them all the world of fancie cleare But as two Suns when they do shine to us The aire is lighter they prodigious So while they liv'd and writ together we Had Plays exceeded what we hop'd to see But they writ few for youthful Beaumont soon By death eclipsed was at his high noon Surviving Fletcher then did pen alone Equal to both pardon Comparison And suffer'd not the Globe and Black-Friers Stage T' envy the glories of a former Age. As we in humane bodies see that lose An eye or limbe the vertue and the use Retreats into the other eye or limb And makes it double So I say of him Fletcher was Beaumonts Heir and did inherit His searching judgement and unbounded Spirit His Plays are Printed therefore as they were Of Beaumont too because his Spirit 's there 8. To my Son Mr. Thomas Cokaine YOU often have enquir'd where I have been In my years Travel and what Cities seen And s●ai'd in of the which therefore in brief I for your satisfaction name the chief When four and twenty years and some moneths more Of Age I was I left our English Shore And in a thousand six hundred thirty two Went hence fair France and Italy to view At Roy July the sixteenth we took Ship And on the seventeenth did arrive at Deipe Henry the fourths secure retreat where one Night having lain I rode next day to Roan Thence in a Coach I did to Paris go Where then I did but spend a day or two Thence with the Lions messenger went thither And pass'd through Mont-Argis Mollins and Never In two days thence we did to Cambray get A City at the foot of Eglebet At Maurein I din'd and six days spent Among the Alpes with high astonishment There dreadful Precepice and horrid sound Of water and hills hid in Cloudes I found And trees above the Clouds on Mountains top And houses too a wonder to get up On Mount-Sinese's top I did ride o're A smooth and pleasant Plain a League or more Upon the which a large Fish-pool there is And one o' th Duke of Savoy's Palaces At the Plains End a little Chappel and A pretty Inn do near together stand That night we did descend 'bove half the way Where first we heard Italian spoke and lay Next morn we down to Susa rode full glad When Mount-Sinese we descended had And that same night to Turin came where we Staid but a day the Beauties of 't to see There we took Coach for Millaine and by th' way A Dinners time did at Vercelli stay And at Novara lay a night and stai'd But at great Millaine one such hast I made And but at Crema one and by the Lake Of stormy Garda did a dinner take Through the low Suburbs of high Bergamo I rode and that night did to Brescia go For works of Iron fam'd And having past Thorow Verona by Catullus grac't Did at Vicenza dine so forward went Through Padoa and on the banks of Brent Saw many Palaces of pleasant Site And to the rich fam'd Venice came that night Thence having stai'd there half a year did go Unto Ferrara by the river Poe Saving some four miles where a Coach we took When Phaetons fatal River we forsook I at Ravenna din'd Rimmini lay And the next Night did at Ancona stay A long days journey wherein we betime Pesaro rode through did at Fano dine For hansome women fam'd And in our way Rid neer small well-wall'd Siningaglia The next day at Loretto din'd and there View'd the Fair Church and House fam'd every where Thorow long Recanati rode and so To Macerata in the Even did go Next day I din'd at Tolentin and was It 'h Church of their renown'd Saint Nicholas Foligno and Spoletto having past Terin and Narin took a Nights repast Within Otricoli I the next day Din'd at Rignano ' i th' Flaminian way And in the Evening afterwards did come Thorow the Port del Popolo to Rome Where what the holy week and Easter could To strangers view afford I did behold Where that old Cities wonders I did view And all the many Marvels of the new Three weeks I there made my abode and then For Naples took my travels up agen Of all Frascati's Wonders had a sight And thence unto Velletri rode that night At Terrachina lay the next Then through The Kingdom pass'd at Mola took a view Of Old Gaeta thence to Capua rode Where onely I dinners time abode So I to Naples came where three weeks stay Made me the wonders thereabouts survey I at Puzzolo was there cross'd the Bay Fam'd for the bridge of proud Caligula To Baja and that day a view did take Of Aniana and Avernus Lake The mortal Grott was in and Sepulchre Which murther'd Agrippina did