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	call_v	world_n	5,166	5	4.6945	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A13479	The nipping and snipping of abuses: or The woolgathering of vvitte With the Muses Taylor, brought from Parnassus by land, with a paire of oares wherein are aboue a hundred seuerall garments of diuers fashions, made by nature, without the helpe of art, and a proclamation from hell in the Deuils name, concerning the propogation, and excessiue vse of tobacco. By Iohn Taylor.	Taylor, John, 1580-1653.	1614 (1614)	STC 23779; ESTC S118233	39,316	104

rough robustious rage My anger fury and my scarlet wrath Man-slaughtring murder is thy onely page Which to thy bloudy guidance I bequeath Thy seruants all from death should haue their wage For they are executioners for death Great Mars all furie wrath and rage of mine I freely offer to thy Goarye shrine All seeing Sol thy bright reflecting eye Did first with Poets Art inspire my braines T is thou that me so much didst dignifie To rap my soule with sweet Poetike straines And vnto thee againe before I die I giue againe a Poets gainelesse gaines Though wit and art are blessings most diuine Yet here their iemmes amongst a heard of swine To thee false goddesse loues adultrous Queene My most inconstant thoughts I do surrender For thou alone alone hast euer beene True louers bane yet seemest loues defender And were thy bastard blind as fooles do weene So right he had not split my heart so tender Fond Vulcans bride thou turnest my ioy to paine Which vnto thee I render backe againe To Mercury I giue my sharking shifts My two fold false equiuocating tricks All cunning sleights and close deceiuing drifts Which to decitfull wrong my humour pricks All my Buzeaka's my Decoyes and lifts No birdlime henceforth to my fingers sticks My thoughts my words my actions that are bad To thee I giue for them from thee I had And last and low'st of all these Plannets seuen My wau'ring thoughts I giue to Luna ' es guiding My sencelesse braines of wit and sence bereauen My stedfast change and my most certaine sliding All various alterations vnder heauen All that is mine ore mouing or abyding My woes my ioyes my mourning and my mirth I giue to thee from whence they had their birth Thus he against the higher powers contends And threats and bans and beats his care crazd breast The birds harmonious musicke to him lends Which addes no rest vnto his restlesse rest Yea eu'ry thing in louing sort attends All senceable and sencelesse doe their best With helplesse helpes do helpe to mone his mone And her he loues Remaines vnkind alone At last he rose from out the place he lay And frantikely ran woodlie through the wood The scratching brambles in his wailes waie Intreats him stay but in a harebraind mood He fled till weary he at last did stay To rest him where a ragged rock there stood With resolution to despaire and die Whilst Eccho to his mones did thus replie Eccho May humane mischiefes be compar'd with mine mine Thine babling Eccho would thy tongue told true rue I rue that I alone must weepe and pine pine I pine for her from whom my cares ensue sue I sue I serue a marble hearted faire ayre And ayre is all the fruit of fruitlesse loue loue Lou's hope is past then welcome black despaire despaire Shall there despaire my causelesse curse remoue moue Oh whither shall I moue to ioy or paine paine Must paine be my reward for paine for aye aye Aye must my torment feed her scornfull veine vaine To ease my griefe will she say yea or nay nay Nay then from loue and all his lawes I flie flie I flie I search I seeke the way to die die Thus brabling gainst all things he heares or sees Impatient as his froward fortunes wrongs No sensu'all obiect with his sence agrees All pleasures his displeasure more prolongs At length he carues vpon the thick bark'd trees These vnder written sad lamenting songs And as my weake inuention vnderstood His farewell thus was grau'd vpon the wood Sonnet LIke a decrepit wretch deform'd and lame My verse approaches to my dearest Dame Whose dire disdaine makes my laments her game Whose scornfull eies addes fuell to my flame But whether shee or I are most too blame I for attempting to exalt her fame With fruitlesse Sonnets which my wit did frame Or shee whose peircing lookes my heart ore ' came Her feature can both men and monsters tame The gods and fiends adore and dread her name Whose matchlesse forme doth Citherea shame Whose cruell heart remaineth still the same And in a word I striue against the streame My state ' is to low and hers is too supreame Then since so scornefull is her high disdaine Since all my loue is but bestow'd in vaine Curbe fancie then with true discretions Reine Let reason cure my tor-tormenting paine Suppose I should at last my suit attaine And then sit downe and count my losing gaine My haruest would be tares in shee l of graine Then I le no longer vexe my vexed braine To seeke her loue who ioyes when I complaine No longer I loues vassell will remaine I le be no more of Cupids witlesse traine Whose partiall blindnesse hath so many slaine Proud Dame whose breast my loue didst earst refraine Despight loues lawes I le be no more thy swaine Thus like a man whose answere 〈◊〉 ●erest him I found him mad with loue and so I left him Plutoes Proclamation concerning his Infernall pleasure for the Propagation of Tobacco TRue Newes and strange my Muse intends to write From horrid concaues of eternall night Whereas a damned Parliment of Deuils Enacted lawes to fill the world with euils Blacke Pluto sundry proclamations sends Through Barathrum and summons all the fiends To know how they on earth had spent their times And how they had beclog'd the world with crimes First spake an ancient Deuill ycleaped Pride Who said he wandred had both farre and wide Dispersing his Ambitious poisnous bane As farre as Luna doth both waxe or wane Next summond was a rakehell furgound curre Cal'd Auarice whose rotten haulking murre Was like to choake him ere he could declare How he had soules possest with monies care That so they fill their Coffers to the brim All 's one let sweet saluation sinke or swimme The third that to the Parlament came in Was murder all inroab'de in scarlet sinne Who told great Limboes monarch he had done Such deeds as thousand soules to hell hath wonne The fourth that entred to this damned Iurie Was sweet sinne Leachery a smugfac'd furie Said that the world should his great paines approue Where vniuersall lust is counted loue The fift was an ilshap'd decrepit Crone Cald Enuy all consum'd to skinne and bone And shee declar'd what labour he had spent To Honours and to Vertues detriment Then sixt did Burst-gut Gluttony appeere Whose sole delight is all in belly cheere Who told how he mens greedy mindes did serue To cram their bodies whilst their soules did sterue The seuenth was Sloth an vgly lothsome wretch Who being cald did gape and yawne and stretch I haue quoth he done as your highnesse wil'd I all the world with Idlenesse haue fil'd In lazie Creatures members I doe lurke That thousands will be hang'd before the 'ile worke Then Pluto said these ills you haue done well In propagation of our kingdome Hell But yet ther 's one thing which I will effect Which too long hath been buried with neglect

fire Go on go on and we will still admire Thine Tho Bretnor To my honest friend Iohn Taylor THy Taylors sheares foule vices wings hath clipt The seames of impious dealings are vnript So Art-like thou these captoius times hast quipt As if in Hellicon thy pen were dipt All those who gainst thy worth are Enuious lipt Thy sharpe Satyrick Muse hath nipt and snipt And to conclude thy'nuention is not chipt Or stolne or borowd begd or basely gript Then Taylor thy conceits are truely sowde And Sculler on my word it was well rowde Thine to my best power Enoch Lynde To him I loue yet neuer knew TO praise thee without knowledge were dispraise I know thy Wit in that thy selfe I raise Thy ful fetcht-strokes so wafts me o're the Strand Of deepe Conceit as bids me vnderstands That neuer Taylor shapt for such small price A Robe so couert which uncouers Vice Thy true friend Iohn Handson In Landem Authoris MOst commonly one Taylor will dispraise Anothers workmanship enuying alwaies At him that 's better then himselfe reputed Though he himselfe be but a botcher bruted So might it well be said of me my friend Should I not to thy worke some few lines lend Which to make probable this sentence tendeth Who not commends he surely discommendeth In my illiterate censure these thy rimes Deserue applause euen in these worst of times When wit is onely worthy held in those On whom smooth flattery vaine praise bestowes But I not minding with thy worth to flatter Doe know thy wit to good too toyle by water Rob Taylor To my friend Iohn Taylor THis worke of thine thou hast compilde so well It merits better wits thy worth to tell Thine Maximilian Waad To my kind friend IOHN TAILOR FYe Momus cryes what franticke fit hath firde The Pelting Sculler thus to play the Poet As if he were with Homers spirit inspir'de Cease Critticke cease and I will let thee know it The honest Sculler seeking for a fare Did meete the Muses in an eu'ning late And finding them dispos'd to take the ayre Such sollace gaue them with his Rusticke prate As there in guerdon of his homebred sport It was decreed by all the Sisters nine He should receive since other meanes was short A brimfull bowle of Heliconian Wine Since when from him such sweet conceits doth flow As merits all the praise thou canst bestow Againe IOhn Taylor heere I gladly would commend thee And wish my note exceeded Ela's straine Or that my Verse could equali Virgils vaine Which might from Momus carping brood defend thee Yet as I can I will this Reader tell I know no Sculler euer writ so well Thy friend Richard Leigh To my true friend Iohn Tailor AMongst the best that Britaine now doth beare Grac'd by Apollo and the Nimphs diuine Swolne with the Raptures of their great Ingine I thinke that fewe or none to thee comes neere They want the tru-true tutch stone of the eare Besides thy makings all are meerely thine Thou stealst no Chore not Scene nor page nor line If they doe so their workes can witnesse beare Then iustly Iacke I doe thee most esteeme Nor art thou alwaies ignorant of Art For Nature so in thee doth play her part As prodigall not lib'rall shee doth seeme Whilest thou her Champion to thy greater grace Mak'st Art to Nature euen in Art giue place Thine as I liue Iohn Moraye The Authors thanks to all those that haue written in his Commendations RIght worthy and my welbeloued friends My loue and seruice shall be all your debters A Beggers thankes is all the best Amends And in that paiment you shall all be getters For words are cheape and this my Booke affoords Your owne with double intrest words for words Yours I. T. To all in generall on whose names I haue Anagrammatized MAiesticke Sol whose eye Eclipsing Raies Shine with admired splendor or'e this land And all you Mercuries of Mars his band Whose words and swords your temples crownes with baies Your pardons grant me if I haue transgrest If you forgiue I le deale with all the rest Euer at Command in all humble seruice Iohn Tailor The Authors description of a Poet and Poesie with an Apollogie in defence of Naturall English Poetrie SHall Beggers diue into the Acts of Kings Shall Nature speake of supernat'rall things Shall Egles flights atempted be by Gnatts Shall mighty Whales be portraied out by Sprate These things I know vnpossible to be And it is as vnpossible for me That am a begger in these Kingly acts Which from the Heau'ns true Poetry extracts A supernat'rall foole by Nature I That neuer knew this high borne mystery A worthlesse gnat I know my selfe more weake Yet of the Princely Egle dare to speake A silly sprat the Ocean seekes to sound To seeke this Whale though seeking he be drown'd Then to proceed a Poets Art I know Is not compact of earthly things below Nor is of any base substantiall mettle That in the worlds rotundity doth settle But t is immortall and it hath proceeding From whence diuinest soules haue all their breeding It is a blessing heau'n hath sent to men By men it is diuulged with their pen And by that propogation it is knowne And ouer all the world disperst and throwne In verball elocution so refinde That it to Vertue animates mans mindes The blessed singer of blest Israel In this rare Art he rarely did exell He sweetely Poetyz'd in Heau'nly verses Such lines which aye eternity rehearses What Reuerend rate and glorious great esteeme Augustus Caesar did a Poet deeme Admired Virgils life doth plainely show That all the world a Poets worth may know But leauing Israels King and Romane Caesar Let 's seeke in England English Poets treasure Sir Phillip Sidney his times Mars and Muse That word and sword so worthily could vse That spight of death his Glory liu's alwaies For Conquests and for Poesie crown'd with bayes What famous men liu's in this age of ours As if the Sisters nine had left their bowres With more post hast then expeditious wings They here haue found the Helliconian springs We of our mighty Monarch IAMES may boast Who in this heau'nly Art exceeds the most Where men may see the Muses wisdome well When such a Glorious house they chose to dwell The Preacher whose instructions doth afford The soules deere food the euerliuing word If Poets skill be banisht from his braine His preaching sometimes will be but too plaine Twixt Poetry and best Diuinity There is such neere and deere affinity As t' were propinquity of brothers blood That without tone the other 's not so good The man that takes in hand braue verse to write And in Diuinity hath no insight He may perhaps make smoothe and Art-like Rimes To please the humors of these idle times But name of Poet he shal neuer merrit Thogh writing them he waste his very spirit They therefore much mistake that seeme to say How euery one that writes a