Selected quad for the lemma: soul_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
soul_n	body_n	bring_v	death_n	8,551	5	5.4004	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B00463	The fabulous tales of Esope the Phrygian, compiled moste eloquently in Scottishe metre by Master Robert Henrison, & now lately Englished. ; Euery tale moralized most aptly to this present time, worthy to be read..; Aesop's fables. English. Selections. 1577	Aesop.; Henryson, Robert, 1430?-1506?; Smith, Richard, fl. 1587.	1577 (1577)	STC 186.5; ESTC S90053	52,310	130

of corne Theyr lodging tooke and made theri residence The fowler saw and great othes hath sworne They should be tane truly for theyr expence His nettes then he set with great diligence And in the snow he showled hath a playne And heled it all ouer with chaf agayne These small byrdes seyng this chaf were glad Thinkyng it had bene corne they lited downe But of the nettes no inkling they had Nor of the fowlers false intention To scrape seeke their meate they made them bowne The Swallow on a little branch neare by Dreading some guyle thus lowd to them can cry Into that chaf scrape whiles your nayles bleede There is no corne ye labour all in vayne Trowe ye yond churle for pitty will you feede Na na he hath it here layde for a trayne Remoue I reade you or els ye wil be slayne His nettes he hath set full priuily Reddy to draw in tyme beware or ye die Great folies in him that puts in daunger His life his honour for a thing of nought Great follies in him that will not gladly heare Counsell in time while it auayle him mought Great folies in him that hath nothing in thought But things present and after what may fall Nor of the ende hath no memoriall These small birdes for hunger famisht neare Full busily scraping for to seeke their foode The counsell of the Swallow would not heare Suppose their labour did them litle good When she their foolish hartes vnderstood So indurate vp in a tree she flewe With that this churle ouer them his nettes drew Alas it was great pitty for to see That bloudy Boucher to beate the birdes downe And ah to heare when they wist well to die Their carefull crie and lamentation Some with a staffe he strake to earth on fowne Of some the head he strake of some he brake the crag Some halfe on liue he stopt into his bagge And when the Swallow saw that they were dead Lo quoth she these chances do arise On them that will not take councell nor head Of prudent men or Clerkes that are wise This great perill I tolde them more than thryse Now are they dead wo is me therefore She tooke hir flight and I saw hir no more Moralitie LO worthy folke Esope that noble Clerke A poet worthy to be Lawreate When he had leasure from more autentike werke With other mo this forsayd fable wrote Whiche at this time may well be applicate To very good morall edification Hauing ay sentence according to reason This carle and bond of gentry spoliate Sowing this chaf the small byrdes to sla It is the fende whiche fro the angelike state Exiled was as false Apostata Whiche day and night werieth not to ga Sowing poyson in euery wicked thought In mans soule which Christ ful deere hath bought And when the soule as into earth the seede Giues consent vnto delectation Then wicked thoughts begins for to breede In deadly sinne whiche is damnation Reason is blinded with affection And carnall lust growes full greene and gay Through consuetude haunted from day to day Proceeding foorth by vse and consuetude Then sinne ripes and shame is set aside The feende makes his nettes sharp and rude And vnder pleasaunce priuily them hide Then on the field he soweth chaf full wide Whiche is but drosse and very vanitie Of fleshly lust and vayne prosperitie These little hirdes wretches we may call Still scraping in this worldes vayne pleasaunce Greedy to gaher goodes temporall Which as the chaffe or drosse without substaunce Little of auayle and full of variaunce Like to the dust before the blast of winde Which whisks away and maketh wretches blinde This Swallow whiche scaped is the snare The holy preacher well may signifie Exhorting folke to walke and ay beware From the nettes of our wicked enimie Who sleepeth not but euer is ready When wretches in this world chaffe do scrape To draw his net then they may not escape Alas what care what weeping is and woe When soule and body departed are in twayne The body to the wormes kitchin doth goe The soule to fire to euerlasting payne What helpes then this chaffe these goodes vayne When thou art put to Lucifers hyre And brought to Hell and hangd in the fyre These hid nettes for to perceyue and see And this sory chaffe is wise vnderstanding Best is beware in most prosperitie For in this world there is nothing lasting There is noman certayne how long shal be his being How long his life shall last nor how shal be his end Nor after his death whether he shall wend. Pray we therefore whyle we are in this life For foure things the first fro sinne remoue The second is fro all warre and strife The third is perfect charitie and loue The fourth thing is and most for our behoue That is in blisse with Angels to be fellow And thus endeth the preachyng of the Swallow FINIS ¶ The mery tale of the wolf that woldshaue had the Neckhering through the wyles of the Foxe thnt beguiled the Carrier WHylom there wound in a wildernes As mine Author expresly can declare A rauenyng Wolf that liued vpon purches On all beasts and made him well to fare Was none so bigge about him he would spare And he weare hongry other for fauour or fayth But in his wrath he weried them to death So happened him in rouing as he went To meete a Foxe in mids of the way Laurence him first sawe and feard to be shent And with a beke he bad the Wolf good day Welcome to me quoth he thou russet gray So bowed he downe and tooke him by the hand Rise vp Laurence I giue thee leaue to stand Where hast thou bene this long out of my sight Thou shalt beare office and my steward be For thou can knap downe Capons in the night And lurking lowe thou can make hennes die Sir sayd the Foxe that agrees not for me And I am redde if they see me afarre At my figure beast and birdes will skarre Nay quoth the Wolf thou can in couert creepe Vpon thy belly and catch them by the head And make a sudden showe vpon a sheepe So with thy weapons weary him to dead Sir sayd the Foxe ye know my robe is read And therefore there will no beast abide me Though I would be so false as for to hide me Yes quoth the Wolf through hedge through bush Low can thou bowe to come to thine intent Sir sayd the Foxe ye wote well how I pushe And long fro them they will feele my sent Then will they escape suppose I should be shent And I am ashamde to come behind them Into the field though I should sleeping find them Nay quoth the Wolf thou can come on the winde For euery wrinke forsooth thou hast a wyle Sir sayd the Fox that beast ye might call blinde That might not scape then fro me a mile How might I one of them that wayes beguyle My tipped two eares and my

ouer this water bring This othe was made the Mouse without perceiuing The false engine of this foule carping Pad Toke threede and bound hir legge as she hir bad Then foote for foote they lap both in the brim But in their mindes they were right different The Mouse thought of nothing but for to swim The Paddock for to drowne set his intent When they in midway of the streame nere went With all hir force the Paddock pressed downe And thought the Mouse without mercy to drowne Perceyuing this the Mouse on hir can cry Traytour to God and forsworne vnto me Thou tookest vpon thy faith right now that I Without hurt or harme should ferried be and free And when she sawe there was but do or dee Withall hir might she forst hir selfe to swim And pressed vpon the Todes back for to clim The dread of death hir strength made increas And forced hir defende with might and mayne The Mouse vpward the Paddock downe can pres Whyle to while fro whyle dowked vp againe This silly Mouse plunged into great payne Can fight as long as breath was in hir breast Till at the last she cried for the priest Fighting thus togither the kight sate on a twist And to this wretched battell tooke good heede And with a whiske or any of them wist He clenchet his talens betwixt them on the threede So to the lande he flew with them good speede Glad of that catch piping with many pew So lowsed them and without pity slew Then bowelled them that butcher with his bill And belly drawen full featly them he fleede But all their flesh would scant be half a fill And guttes also vnto that greedy gleede Of their debate thus when I heard the reede He tooke his flight and ouer the fieldes flaw If this be not true then aske of them that saw Moralitie MY brother if thou wil take aduertence By this Fable thou may perceyue and see It passes farre all kinde of pestilence A wicked minde fraught with woordes fayre and s●ee Beware therefore with whome thou matchest thee For thee were better go to carte and plow And all thy dayes to delue in wet and drie Than to be matched with a wicked fellow A false intent vnder a fayre pretence Hath caused many an innocent to die Great folly it is to giue ouersoone credence To all that speakes fayrely vnto thee A silken tong an heart of cruelty Smites more sore than any shot of arrow Brother if thou be wise I red thee flee To match thee with a fained froward fellow I warrant thee also it is great negligence To bind thee fast where thou were franke free When thou art bounde thou can make no defence To saue thy life nor yet thy libertie This simple counsel brother take of me And it to conne forth both early and late Better without strife to liue alone we see Than to be matched with a wicked mate This holde in mind right more I shall thee tel What by these beastes may be fygurate The Paddocke vsing in the floud to dwel Is mans body swimming rare and late In this wretched world with cares implicate Now hy now low whiles plūged vp whiles down Continually in peril and ready for to drowne Now dolorous now glad as byrde on breere Now in freedome now wrapped in distresse Now hole and sound now dead brought on beer Now pore as Iob now rolling in riches Now gownes gay now ragges laide in presse Now full as pease now hungry as the hounde Now hoyst on wheele now thrown vpon the ground This litle mouse here knit thus by the shin The soule of man betoken may indeede Bounden and from the body may not win While cruel death come breake of life the threede The which to drown should euer stand in dread Of carnall lust by the suggestion Which drawes the soule continually a downe The water is the world aye weltering With many waues of tribulation In which the soule and bodie be sturring Standing right different in their opinion The soule vpwarde the body preaces downe The soule right faine would be brought ore ywis Out of this world into the heauens blisse The Right is death that cometh sodainely As doth a theef and endeth soone the battell Be vigilant therfore and still ready For mans life is brickle and aye mortall My friend therefore make thee a strong wall Of faith in Christ for death wil the assay Thou knowst not when euen morrow or midday Adew my friend and if that any aske Of these Fables so shortly I conclude Say thou I left the rest vnto the learneds taske To make example and some simlitude Now Christ for vs that died on the rood Of soule and life as thou art sauiour Graunt vs to passe into a blessed houre Finished in the vale of Aylesburie the thirtenth of August Anno Domini 1574. THE EPILOGVE BEhold ye men Esope that noble clerke Although of body yformed wondrous ill His fables wrote with wisdome deep and darke To stir our mindes to good which had no will By beastes and foules he spake to warne vs still As Foxe Woulfe sheepe dog cocke and henne To stirre our mindes to liue on earth like men It s writ of olde by authours that are past That Esope was crooke backt great belly head Crooke legged splay foote like a Cowe in wast Yet vertuous of his life as it is sead Whose good examples liues though he be dead In eche mans mouth and shall do still for aye Lo vertue brings forth fruite without decay Thus as ye heare ill shapen of his body Yet of his minde none perfecter then he But marke his Sawes and ye finde him no noddy But perfect aye as perfect loe may be Who lendes you light good vertuous wayes to see Then loue this worke and and reade it at your will I but eclipse his tales of so great skill FINIS