Selected quad for the lemma: virtue_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
virtue_n	darkness_n	light_n	shine_v	1,307	5	9.6147	5	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A20811	The barrons vvars in the raigne of Edward the second. VVith Englands heroicall epistles. By Michael Drayton	Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.; Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. England's heroical epistles. aut; Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. Idea. aut; Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631. Mortimeriados.	1603 (1603)	STC 7189; ESTC S109887	176,619	413

reade at last the storie of my woe The drery abstracts of my endlesse cares vvith my lifes sorrow enterlined so Smok'd with my sighes and blotted with my teares The sad memorialls of my miseries Pend in the griefe of mine afflicted ghost My lifes complaint in dolefull Elegies vvith so pure loue as time could neuer boast Receaue the Incense which I offer heere By my strong faith ascending to thy fame My zeale my hope my vowes my praise my prayer My soules oblations to thy sacred name VVhich name my Muse to highest heauen shall raise By chast desire true loue and vertues praise Sonnet 55 MY Faire if thou wilt register my loue More then worlds volumes shall thereof arise Preserue my teares and thou thy selfe shalt proue A second flood downe rayning from mine eyes None but my sighs and thine eyes shall behold The sun-beames smothered with immortall smoke And if by thee my prayers may be enrold They heauen and earth to pittie shall prouoke Looke thou into my breast and thou shalt see Chast holy vowes for my soules sacrifice That soule sweete Maide which so hath honored thee Erecting Trophies to thy sacred eyes Those eyes to my hart shining euer bright vvhen darknes hath obscur'd each other light An alusion to the Eaglets Sonnet 56. MY thoughts bred vp with Eagle-birds of loue And for their vertues I desir'd to know Vpon the nest I set them forth to proue If they were of the Eagles kinde or no. But they no sooner saw my sunne appeare But on her rayes with gazing eyes they stood vvhich proou'd my birds delighted in the ayre And that they came of this rare kingly brood But now their plumes full sumd with sweet desire To shew their kind began to clime the skyes Doe what I could my Eaglets would aspire Straight mounting vp to thy celestiall eyes And thus my Faire my thoughts away be flowne And from my breast into thine eyes be gone Sonnet 57. MY Faire had I not erst adorn'd my Lute vvith those sweet strings stolne from thy golden haire Vnto the world had all my ioyes beene mute Nor had I learn'd to descant on my Faire Had not mine eye seene thy celestiall eye Nor my hart knowne the power of thy name I had beene buried to posteritie Thy beauties yet vnregistred by same But thy diuine perfections by their skill This miracle loe on my Muse haue tried And haue inspir'd a furie in my quill That in my verse thou liuest deified That from thy selfe the cause is thus deriued That by thy selfe thy selfe shall be suruiued To Prouerbe Sonnet 58. AS Loue and I late harbour'd in one Inne VVith Prouerbs thus each other intertaine In loue there is no lacke thus I beginne Faire words makes fooles replieth he againe That spares to speake doth spare to speed quoth I As well saith he too forward as too slow Fortune assists the boldest I replie A hasty man quoth he nere wanted woe Labour is light where loue quoth I doth pay Saith he light burthens heauy if farre borne Quoth I the maine lost cast the by away You haue spunne a faire thred he replies in scorne And hauing thus a while each other thwarted Fooles as we met so fooles againe we parted Sonet 59. DEfine my loue and tell the ioyes of heauen Expresse my woes and shew the paines of hell Declare what Fate vnluckie starres haue giuen And aske a world vpon my life to dwell Make knowne that faith vnkindnes could not moue Compare my worth with others base desert Let vertue be the tuch-stone of my loue So may the heauens reade wonders in my hart Behold the clouds which haue eclips'd my sunne And view the crosses which my course doth let Till me if euer since the world begunne So faire a rising had so foule a set And by all meanes let foule vnkindnes proue And shew the second to so pure a loue Sonnet 60. WHen first I ended then I first began The more I trauell further from my rest vvhere most I lost there most of all I wan Pined with hunger rising from a feast Me thinks I flee yet want I legs to goe vvise in conceite in act a very sot Rauisht with ioy amidst a hell of woe vvhat most I seeme that surest am I not I build my hopes a world aboue the skie Yet with the Mole I creepe into the earth In plenty am I staru'd with penurie And yet I surfet in the greatest dearth I haue I want dispaire and yet desire Burn'd in a Sea of Ice and drown'd amidst a fire Sonnet 61. TRuce gentle Loue a parley now I craue Me thinks t is long since first these wars begun Nor thou nor I the better yet can haue Bad is the match where neither party wone I offer free conditions of faire peace My hart for hostage that it shall remaine Discharge our forces heere let malice cease So for my pledge thou giue me pledge againe Or if nothing but death will serue thy turne Still thirsting for subuersion of my state Doe what thou canst raze massacre and burne Let the world see the vtmost of thy hate I send defiance since if ouer-throwne Thou vanquishing the conquest is mine owne A Cansonet Sonnet 62. EYes with your teares blind if you bee vvhy haue these teares such eyes to see Poore eyes if your teares cannot moue My teares eyes then must mone my loue Then eyes since you haue lost your sight vveepe still and teares shall lend you light Till both desolu'd and both want might No no cleere eyes you are not blind But in my teares discerne my mind Teares be the language which you speake which my hart wanting yet must breake My tongue must cease to tell my wrongs And make my sighs to get them tongs Yet more then this to her belongs To the high and mighty Prince Iames King of Scots Sonnet 63. NOt thy graue Counsells nor thy Subiects loue Nor all that famous Scottish royaltie Or what thy soueraigne greatnes may approue Others in vaine doe but historifie vvhen thine owne glory from thy selfe doth spring As though thou did'st all meaner prayses scorne Of Kings a Poet and the Poets King They Princes but thou Prophets do'st adorne VVhilst others by their Empires are renown'd Thou do'st enrich thy Scotland with renowne And Kings can but with Diadems be crown'd But with thy Laurell thou doo'st crowne thy Crowne That they whose pens euen life to Kings doe giue In thee a King shall seeke them selues to liue To Lucie Countesse of Bedford Sonnet 64. GReat Lady essence of my chiefest good Of the most pure and finest tempred spirit Adorn'd with gifts enobled by thy blood vvhich by discent true vertue do'st inherit That vertue which no fortune can depriue vvhich thou by birth tak'st from thy gracious mother vvhose royall minds with equall motion striue vvhich most in honour shall excell the other Vnto thy same my Muse her selfe shall taske vvhich rain'st vpon me thy sweet golden showers And but thy selfe no subiect will I aske Vpon whose praise my soule shall spend her powers Sweet Lady yet grace this poore Muse of mine vvhose faith whose zeale whose life whose all is thine To the Lady Anne Harington Sonnet 65. MAdam my words cannot expresse my mind My zealous kindnes to make knowne to you vvhen your desarts all seuerally I find In this attempt of me doe craue their due Your gracious kindnes first doth claime my hart Your bounty bids my hand to make it knowne Of me your vertues each doe challenge part And leaue me thus the least that is mine owne vvhat should commend your modesty and wit Is by your wit and modesty commended And standeth dumbe in most admiring it And where it should begin is onely ended Returning this your prayses onely due And to your selfe say you are onely you To the Lady L.S. Sonnet 66. BRight starre of Beauty on whose eye lids sit A thousand Nimph-like and enamoured Graces The Goddesses of memory and wit vvhich in due order take their seuerall places In whose deare bosome sweet delicious loue Layes downe his quiuer that he once did beare Since he that blessed Paradice did proue Forsooke his mothers lap to sport him there Let others striue to entertaine with words My soule is of another temper made I hold it vile that vulgar witaffords Deuouring time my faith shall not inuade Still let my praise be honoured thus by you Be you most worthy whilst I be most true To Sir Anthonie Cooke Sonnet 67. VOuchsafe to grace these rude vnpolish'd rimes vvhich but for you had slept in sable night And come abroad now in these glorious times Can hardly brooke the purenes of the light But sith you see their destenie is such That in the world their fortune they must try Perhaps they better shall abide the tuch vvearing your name their gracious liuerie Yet these mine owne I wrong not other men Nor trafique ●urther then this happy Clime Nor filch from Portes nor from Petrarchs pen A fault too common in this latter time Diuine Sir Phillip I auou●h thy writ I am no Pick-purse of anothers wit FINIS