Selected quad for the lemma: water_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
water_n	let_v	put_v	strain_v	4,592	5	10.4585	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A77759	Midnights meditations of death: with pious and profitable observations, and consolations : perused by Francis Quarles a little before his death. / Published by E.B.; A buckler against the fear of death.	Buckler, Edward, 1610-1706.; Benlowes, Edward, 1603?-1676, attributed name.; Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644.	1646 (1646)	Wing B5350; Thomason E1164_3; ESTC R208713	41,632	130

their order And in his gardens he had lovely ranks Of flowres for odour all sweets else excelling Whose beauteous lustre stellifi'd the banks All these were to delight his sense of smelling And perfumes of sweetest savour Which all other nations bring As a present from their King Who did woo his Princely favour For objects which were wont to please the eye He wanted none Did he desire a sight Of what might most affect variety Of lovely'st objects spangled with delight Everiewhere themselves present Scarce did anywhere appear Other objects then did wear Outsides clothed with content Behold his thousand wives If he would know The height of beautie it is seen in those A battel in a field of sanguine snow Betwixt the spotlesse lilie and the rose Part they would on no condition Nor would either of them yield Yet at length are reconcil'd And there made a composition His gorgeous clothes his silver and his gold His jewels his incomparable treasure Were all of them delightsome to behold And gave the eye a glorious glut of pleasure His friends his magnificent Buildings fish-ponds gardens bowers Interlac'd with gallant flowers Gave both eye and mind content Yet he 's dead Delights cannot protect us From Deaths assaults pleasures eternize not Our nature yea when sicknesse shall deject us They will not ease nor comfort us a jote What doth most exactly please us Here appears not where a grave is And what most of all doth ravish On a death-bed will not ease us Meditation 1. MEthinks the trade of brainlesse Epicures Is not so good as it doth seem to be The sweetest cup of luxury procures No man below an immortalitie Yea when sicknesses do lay Him upon his bed and strain Everie part with deadly pain All his pleasures flie away Let 's put the case there was a belly-god Whose studie 't was to give his throat content To sacrifice to 's panch both rost and sod Was his religion Every element Its imployment had The Waters Fruitfull Earth and nimble Air Ransack'd with a costly care For fish flesh and fowl were caters The other cook'd it This luxurious race Did breath his stomach twice a day at least And each dish floted in provoking sawce Which still afresh his appetite increas'd From Dives that 's now in hell For a table full of rare Toothsome and delicious fare This man bears away the bell Well this fat hog of Epicurus stie Falls sick of surfeting or else the gout Or dropsie gripes him most tormentingly That you would think his soul were going out Pains do hinder him from sleeping He lies restlesse and is so Full of tossings to and fro That his house is fill'd with weeping His servants seeing him so out of quiet Sadly bespoke him thus Sir here 's a Phesant A dish of Partridge Larks or Quails a diet Your Worship loves a cup of rich and pleasant Wine that comforts where it goes Muscadine Canarie Sherrie That hath often made you merrie This may ease you of your throes The man repli'd If I had wine by ods Better then nectar which the poets feigne Was drunk in goblets by the heathen Gods It would not ease me of my smallest pain Should God rain me from the skies Manna glorious Angels food 'T would not do me any good 'gainst it would my stomachrise There was another that plac'd no delight In any thing but wealth his chiefest good Was purest gold whether 't were wrong or right He would be gaining for he never stood Upon conscience at all And to cry down avarice As he thought was a device Merely puritanicall To lie to cheat to swear and which is worse To forswear to dissemble in his dealing Went ever down with him as things of course Nor would he slack a jote at down-right stealing Blind he was not yet he saw Not that statute-usury Was at all forbidden by Any part of morall law 'T was fish whatever came within his net Sweet smell'd the dunghill that affoorded gain On such a thriving pinne his heart was set No thoughts but golden lodged in his brain Scraping thus early and late And increasing by these bad Wayes and means at length he had Heaped up a vast estate They say a Turkish Musulman that dies A faithfull servant unto Mahomet Shall presently enjoy a paradise Of brave delights indeed The place is set All about with glorious matters There are rivers pleasant benches Straw'd with flowres gallant wenches That have eyes as broad as platters And many other joyes as good as these But all are bables to that strong content Wherewith the man we told you of doth please Himself in his estate More merriment In the images of Kings Doth he find then six or seven Martyr'd Turks do in their heaven Hearken how the miser sings I 'll eat drink and play And I 'll freely enjoy My pleasures before I am old I 'll be sorie no more For my soul hath in store Abundance of silver and gold In this day and night Will I place my delight It shall fatten my heart with laughter No man shall excell me For who is 't can tell me What pleasures there will be hereafter His irreligious song was hardly ended When at his gate was heard one softly knocking It was that Tyrant Death who came attended With troups of griping throes all these came flocking Round about this golden fool As the issue did assure us God had sent these ghastly Furies For to take away his soul Alas Sir said his servants what may be The cause you send us out such wofull grones How fell you into such an agonie What ails your throat your head your heart your bones Or your stomach or your brains That you howl so here before you Is that which must needs restore you And ease your extremest pains Here 's gold and silver and as stately stuff As England Scotland France or Ireland yields Of jewels and of plate you have enough Of any man you have the fruitfull'st fields Fattest oxen throng your stall Tenants tumble in your rent Those to whom you mony lent Bring both use and principall This cannot chuse but comfort But the man That lay upon his easelesse death-bed sprawling Made this replie If any of you can By marks infallible make sure my calling To my soul and my election If from any text divine You could prove that Christ is mine This would be a good refection Or if you could assure my parting ghost Of seeing God to all Eternitie Of being one amongst that heavenly host Whose blisse it is to praise him endlessely This were comfort that accordeth With his case that is distrest As now I am but the rest On a death-bed none affoordeth There was another man whose occupation Was to passe time away he made a trade Of that which men do call a recreation He was indeed a very merry blade Taverns bowling-alleys playes Dauncing fishing fowling racing Hawking hunting coursing tracing Took up all his healthfull dayes But on a