Selected quad for the lemma: soul_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
soul_n	blood_n	life_n	lord_n	4,921	5	3.7317	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A03470	Pancharis the first booke. Containing the preparation of the loue betweene Ovven Tudyr, and the Queene, long since intended to her maiden Maiestie: and now dedicated to the inuincible Iames, second and greater Monarch of great Britaine, King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, with the islands adiacent.	Holland, Hugh, d. 1633.	1603 (1603)	STC 13592; ESTC S116940	23,955	84

she thought to goe and see the Queene For her declining brother that enioyes One part in one of her three-formed realmes Bade her breake vp those sports and earthly ioyes Sith he must neuer quench his thirsty beames Till she to heauen returne and take his place To gouerne there the starres and here the streames She therefore to the Castle gan to pace That bounteously was built of faire free-stone Whose guilded inside for the greater grace Was all set out with many a precious one And they with one that yet more precious was The cristall windowes round about it shone That as she stood therein the very glasse Seem'd rather to let out the lusty light On did the goddesse with her meany passe Till they came to a roome all richly dight Of heauenly blisse and happinesse the bowre Where each of other had this happy sight The place was after calld the Maydens towre But of Diana and her Maydes no doubt So called was and is vnto this howre Much the amazed goddesse look'd about But most astoned at the Queene shee stood That ready word she could bring hardly out Before the louely Queene who could more good Then halfe a world did silence softly breake Each Lilly blending with a Rose of blood Madame she sayde my tongue can hardly speake That vvorld of worth which I in you admire Then all that I can doe is farre too weake To answere your desert and my desire For since my Lord my life God his soule saue Was laide as well may witnesse my attire My better halfe since he was laide in graue I neuer yet came foorth in companie But in my chamber my selfe buried haue Wherefore if person here or aught there be That vnto you may breede the least offence God knowes it is without my priuitie But did I knowe I soone should rid him hence That of this action is not humbly glad And therewithall they both lowe reuerence Did one another Vp the while was had A Banquet to a by rome as did passe Bisket-bread Sucket Marchpane Marmalad Candids Conserues and all that dainty was It haild downe comfects and through euery spoutt The Sugar-Castles powrd out hypocras Walk'd vp and downe the boles so as I doubt If I may call them standing cups or no. And as the wine so went the day about Diana rose and ready was to goe When in an other cup of massie golde They crownd her wine that sparkled to and fro It was the king Confessors Cup of old Who liu'd a maried man and died a maide She kist the cup where grau'n she might beholde Actaeons death and downe it quickly laid Then turn'd a little to her maydes aside Rebuk't their want of secrecie and saide Could ye no better your owne counsailes hide But ouer England too it must be blaz'd Lo heere Actaeon in his horned hide While on our shame and nakednesse he gaz'd Therewith she pawz'd but they no word could say So were they at that liuely mappe amaz'd And sure the cup did all so wel display As if it white wine were that therein stoode Then would ye sweare Dianaes selfe there by Nakedly clothed with the cristall flood And were it redde there lay then would ye swears Actaeon bathing him in his owne blood At last as one that halfe abashed were Vnto the Queene she turn'd and vttred this Alacke alacke if his owne hownds did teare This fond Actaeon yet the fault was his And mine the griefe we gods are no lesse sory For mortalls punishments then for their amisse Though we by this and that declare our glory And our owne iustice in them both exalte Yet some will say and they too peremptory That this his fortune was and not his fault Was 't not his fault so to prophane a place That hallowed was with franckincense and salt Were 't not his fault that should surprise your grace Here in your chamber skare you or your traine And from your side your surest seruants race Abortiue fansies swimme about his braine And faile him when himselfe he most assures Runne all his plots and purposes in vaine That shall the like attempts on you or yours Thus ended she and with this speach the day On stole the night that parting stil procures As though it came to bid her come away Then tooke she leaue and in her coach did clime The Easterne hill with horses yron gray Where in slowe minutes she must tell the time And serue the vse of man God bade her so When neither Cocke doth crow nor Clocke doth chime Whether we see her siluer face or no Yet there she walkes as wel by day as night And still about her cristall or be doth goe But lord with what a longing and delight To Windsor ward she downe woulde cast her looke And guild the wide Thames with hir trembling light An other heauen ye would haue thought the brooke With Moone and Stars and here and there a cloude But in high heau'n what way so e're she tooke Queene Katharines praises there she rung aloude Set to the tune of her well tempred spheare Much more harmonious then is harpe and croud Hermes that all the ghosts belowe can reare And gently vsher with his snaky rod To this new Caroll gaue ' attentiue eare And as he is a very prating god To the bright Venus hath it told anone From the first point to the last period When she in all the haste would needes be gone To see below what all had heard aboue Of Englands Queene and peerelesse paragon Her Coach was drawne by many a Turtle-doue And driuen by a coachman of great worth Her little sonne the mighty god of Loue. So long he guided on his course by North When hauing past the seauenth and vtmost clime Out of the sea he might see peeping foorth A spot of Earth as white as any lime To which he thought it best his course to hold Now was the Earth for it was past the prime That had vnmask'd her of her tawny old Reuested with a flowry diadem And new greene veluet spangled all with gold Thus were the fields enameld all of them Along the siluer Thames that did embrace The golden meades in wanton armes and hem Their looser skitts like an indented lace Acrosle and vp and downe the riuer swame Her sacred swannes who when they saw her Grace Vnto her Coach to doe their homage came And from the land came Turtles many a paire Vnto her Deity who did the same Then Citherea seeing them so repaire Bespake Sir boy we sure be gone amisse But yet the best is this the way was faire Nay doubtlesse that no way to Windsore is But to our palace in mount C●theron And Cupid he was sore afraide by this Lest it were so indeede when hauing gone A little further he might plainely see Where with his eye a castle met anone High on a hill as though it scorn'd to be Built on the baser earth and towr'd aboue The lofty clowds with such a