Selected quad for the lemma: life_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
life_n	believe_v	live_v	see_v	4,131	5	3.4899	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A15652	A satyre dedicated to His most excellent Maiestie. By George VVither, Gentleman.	Wither, George, 1588-1667.	1614 (1614)	STC 25916; ESTC S120257	15,274	90

A SATYRE DEDICATED TO HIS MOST EXCELLENT MAIESTIE BY GEORGE VVITHER Gentleman Rebus in aduersis Crescit LONDON Printed for GEORGE NORTON and are to be solde at the signe of the red-Bull neere Temple-barre 1614. THE SATYRE TO THE MEERE COVRTIERS SIrs I doe know your mindes you looke for fees For more respect then needes for caps and knees But be content I haue not for you now Nor will I haue at all to doe with you For though I seeme opprest and you suppos● I must be faine to crouch to Vertues foes Yet know your fauours I doe now slight more In this distress● then er'e I did befor● Here to my Liege a message I must tell If you will let me passe yo● shall doe well If you de●i● admittance why then know I meane to haue it where you will or no. Your formall wisedomes which hath neuer beene In ought yet saue in venting fashions seene And deemes that man wa● borne to no intent But to be train'd in Apish complement Doth now perhaps suppose me vndiscreet And such vn-vsed messages vnmeet But what of that Shall I goe sute my matter Vnto your wits that haue but wit to flatter Shall I of your opinions so much prize To loose my will to haue you thinke me wise Who neuer yet to any liking had Vnlesse he were a Knaue a Foole or mad You Mushromes know so much I weigh your powers I neither value you nor what is yours Nay though my crosses had me quite out-worne Spirit enough I d'e finde your spight to scorne Of which resolu'd to further my aduenter Vnto my KING without your leaues I enter TO THE HONEST COVRTIERS BVt You whose onely worth doth colour giue To them that they doe worthy seeme to liue Kinde Gentlemen your ayde I craue to bring A SATYRE to the presence of his King A show of rudenesse doth my forehead Arme Yet you may trust me I will doe no harme He that hath sent me is a subiect true And one whose loue I know is much to you But now he lies bound to a narrow scope Almost beyond the Cape of all good hope Long hath he sought to free himselfe but failes And therefore seeing nothing else preuailes Me to acquaint my Soueraigne here he sends As one despayring of all other friends I doe presume that you will fauour shew me Now that a Messenger from him you know me For many thousands that his face nere knew Blame his Accusers and his Fortune rue And by the helpe which your good word may d●● He hopes for pitty from his Soueraigne to Then in his presence with your fauours grace me And there 's no Vice so great shall dare out-face me TO THE KINGS MOST EXCELLENT MAIESTY A Satyre Quid tu sipe●eo VVHat once the POET said I may avow T is a hard thing not to write Satyres now Since what we speake abuse raignes so in all Spight of our hearts will be Satyricall Let it not therefore now be deem●d strange My vnsmooth'd lines their rudenesse do not change Nor be distastfull to my graciou● King Though in the Cage my olde harsh notes I sing And rudely make a Satyre here vnfold What others would in neater tearmes haue told And why my friends and meanes in Court are scant Knowledge of curious Phrase and forme I want I cannot bear 't to runne my selfe in debt To hire the Groome to bid the Page intreat Some fauour'd follower to vouchsafe his word To get me a colde comfort from his Lord I cannot sooth though it my life might saue Each fauourite nor crouch to euery Knaue I cannot brooke delayes as some men do With scoffes and scornes and tak 't in kindnesse to For er'e I 'de binde my selfe for some slight grace To one that hath no more worth then his place Orb● ●base meane free my selfe from trouble I rather would e●●ure my penance double Cause to be forc'd to what my minde disdaines Is worse to me then tortures rackes and chaines And therefore vnto thee I onely flye To whom there needes no meane but Honesty To thee that lou'st not Parasite nor Minio● Should e're I speake possesse thee with opinion To thee that do'st what thou wilt vndertake For loue of Iustice not the persons sake To thee that kno'wst how vaine all faire shewes be That flow not from the hearts sincerity And canst though shadowed in the simplest vaile Discerne both Loue and Truth and where they faile To thee doe I appeale in whom heau'n knowes I next to God my confidence repose For can it be thy grace should euer shine And not enlighten such a cause as mine Can my hopes fixt in thee great KING be dead Or thou those Satyres hate thy Forrests bred Where shall my second hopes he founded then If euer I haue heart to hope agen Can I suppose a fauour may be got In any place when thy Co●rt yeel●● it not Or that I may obtaine it in the land When I shall be deni'd it at thy hand A●d if I might should I so fond on 't be To tak 't of other● when I miss't of thee Or if I did can I haue comfort by it When I shall t●inke my So●●raig●e did denie it No were I sure I to thy hate were borne The loue of halfe the world beside I 'de scorne But why should I thy fauour here distrust That haue a cause so knowne and knowne so iust Which not alone my inward comfort doubles But all suppos'd me wrong'd that heare my troubles Nay though my fault were Reall I beleeue Thou art so Royall that thou wouldst forgiue For well I know thy sacred M●iestie Hath euer beene admir'd for Clemencie And at thy gentlene● the world hath wondred For making Sunshine where thou mightst haue thundred Yea thou in mercy life to them didst giue That could not be content to see thee liue And can I thinke that thou wilt make me then The most vnhappy of all other men Or le● thy loyall subiect against reason Be punisht more for Loue then some for Treason No thou didst neuer yet thy glory staine With an iniustice to the meanest Swaine 'T is not thy will I 'me wrong'd nor dost thou know If I haue suffred iniuries or no. For if I haue not heard false Rumours flye Th'a●t grac'd me with the stile of Honesty And if it were so as the world thinkes 't was I cannot see how it should come to passe That thou from whose free tongue proceedeth nought Which is not correspondent with thy thought Those thoughts to being fram'd in Reasons mould Should speake that once which should not euer hold But passing it as an vncertaintie I humbly begge thee by that Maiestie Whose sacred Glory strikes a louing-feare Into the hearts of all to whom 't is deare To deigne me so much fauour without merit As reade this plaint of a distempred spirit And thinke vnlesse I saw some hideous storme Too great to be indu●'d by such a worme I had not thus