Selected quad for the lemma: soul_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
soul_n	life_n	live_v	spirit_n	13,616	5	5.5781	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A29149	Several poems compiled with great variety of wit and learning, full of delight wherein especially is contained a compleat discourse, and description of the four elements, constitutions, ages of man, seasons of the year, together with an exact epitome of the three by a gentlewoman in New-England.; Tenth muse lately sprung up in America	Bradstreet, Anne, 1612?-1672.	1678 (1678)	Wing B4166; ESTC R22624	114,811	269

set That Divine Ofspring the immortal Soul Though it in all and every part be whole Within this stately place of eminence Doth doubtless keep its mighty residence And surely the Soul sensitive here lives Which life and motion to each creature gives The Conjugation of the parts to th' braine Doth shew hence flow the pow'rs which they retain Within this high Built Cittadel doth lye The Reason fancy and the memory The faculty of speech doth here abide The Spirits animal from hence do slide The five most noble Senses here do dwell Of three it 's hard to say which doth excell This point now to discuss 'longs not to me I 'le touch the sight great'st wonder of the three The optick Nerve Coats humours all are mine The watry glassie and the Chrystaline O mixture strange O colour colourless Thy perfect temperament who can express He was no fool who thought the soul lay there Whence her affections passions speak so clear O good O bad O true O traiterous eyes What wonderments within your Balls there lyes Of all the Senses fight shall be the Queen Yet some may wish O had mine eyes ne're seen Mine likewise is the ●arrow of the back Which runs through all the Spondles of the rack It is the substitute o' th royal brain All Nerves except seven pair to it retain And the strong Ligaments from hence arise Which joynt to joynt the intire body tyes Some other parts there issue from the Brain Whose worth and use to tell I must refrain Some curious learned Crooke may these reveal But modesty hath charg'd me to conceal Here 's my Epitome of excellence For what 's the Brains is mine by Consequence A foolish brain quoth Choler wanting heat But a mad one sayl where 't is too great Phrensie 's worse then folly one would more glad With a tame fool converse then with a mad For learning then my brain is not the fittest Nor will I yield that Choler is the wittiest Thy judgement is unsafe thy fancy little For memory the sand is not more brittle Again none's fit for Kingly state but thou If Tyrants be the best I●le it allow But if love be as requisite as fear Then thou and I must make a mixture here Well to be brief I hope now Cholers laid And I 'le pass by what Sister sanguine said To Melancholy I●le make no reply The worst she said was instability And too much talk both which I here confess A warning good hereafter I 'le say less Let 's now be friends its time our spight were spent Lest we too late this rashness do repent Such premises will force a sad conclusion Unless we agree all falls into confu●ion Let Sangine wit● her hot hand Choler hold To take her moist my moisture will be bold My cold cold melancholy hand shall clasp Her dry dry Choler 's other hand shall grasp Two hot two moist two cold two dry here be A golden Ring the Posey VNITY Nor jarrs nor scoffs let none hereafter see But all admire our perfect Amity Nor be discern'd here 's water earth air fire But here a compact body whole intire This loving counsel pleas'd them all so well That flegm was judg'd for kindness to excell Of the four Ages of Man LO now four other act upon the stage Childhood and Youth the Manly Old age The first son unto flegm Grand-child to water Unstable supple co●● and moist's his nature The second frolick claims his pedegree From blood and air for hot and moist is he The third of fire and Choler is compos●d Vindicative and quarrelsome dispos'd The last of earth and heavy melancholy Solid hating all lightness and all folly Childhood was cloth'd in white green to show His spring was intermixed with some snow Upon his head nature a Garland set Of Primrose Daizy the Violet Such cold mean flowrs the spring puts forth betime Before the sun hath throughly heat the clime His Hobby striding did not ride but run And in his hand an hour-glass new begun In danger every moment of a fall And when t is broke then ends his life and all But if he hold till it have run its last Then may he live out threescore years or past Next Youth came up in gorgeous attire As that fond age doth most of all desire His Suit of Crimson and his scarfe of green His pride in 's countenance was quickly seen Garland of roses pinks and gilli-flowers Seemed on 's head to grow bedew'd with showers His face as fresh as is Aurora fair When blushing she first 'gins to light the air No wooden horse but one of mettal try'd He seems to fly or swim and not to ride Then prancing on the stage about ●e wheels But as he went death waited at his heels The next came up in a much graver sort As one that cared for a good report His sword by 's side and choler in his eyes But neither us'd as yet for he was wise Of Autumns fruits a basket on his arm His golden God in 's purse which was his charm And last of all to act upon this stage Leaning upon his staff came up Old Age Under his arm a sheaf of wheat he bore An harvest of the best what needs he more In 's other hand a glass ev'n almost run Thus writ about This out then am I done His hoary hairs and grave aspect made way And all gave ear to what he had to say These being met each in his equipage Intend to speak according to their age But wise Old age did with all gravity To childish Childhood give precedency And to the rest his reason mildly told That he was young before he grew so old To do as he each one full soon assents Their method was that of the Elements That each should tell what of himself he knew Both good and bad but yet no more then 's true With heed now stood three ages of frail man To hear the child who crying thus began Childhood Ah me conceiv'd in sin and born with sorrow A nothing here to day and gone to morrow VVhose mean beginning blushing can't reveal But night and darkness must with shame conceal My mothers breeding sickness I will spare Her nine moneths weary burthen not declare To shew her bearing pains I should do wrong To tell those pangs which can't be told by tongue VVith tears into the world I did arrive My mother still did waste as I did thrive Who yet with love and all alacrity Spending was willing to be spent for me With wayward cryes I did disturb her rest Who sought still to appease me with the breast With weary arms she danc'd and By By sung When wr●tched I ingrate had done the wrong When infancy was past my childishness Did act ●ll folly that it could express My silliness did only take delight In that which riper age did scorn and slight In Rattles Baubles and such toyish stuff My then ambitious thoughts were low enough

happiness But if in fitting time and place ' gainst foes For countreys good thy life thou dar'st expose Be dangers n'er so high and courage great I le praise that prowess fury Choler heat But such thou never art when all alone Yet such when we all four are joyn'd in one And when such thou art even such are we The friendly Coadjutors still of thee Nextly the Spirits thou dost wholly claim Which nat'ral vital animal we name To play Philosopher I have no list Nor yet Physitian nor Anatomist For acting these I have no will nor Art Yet shall with Equity give thee thy part For natural thou dost not much contest For there is none thou sayst if some not best That there are some and best I dare averre Of greatest use if reason do not erre What is there living which do'nt first derive His Life now Animal from vegetive If thou giv'st life I give the nourishment Thine without mine is not 't is evident But I without thy help can give a growth As plants trees and small Embryon know'th And if vital Spirit● do flow from thee I am as sure the natural from me Be thine the nobler which I grant yet mine Shall justly claim priority of thine I am the fountain which thy Cistern fills Through warm blew Conduits of my venial rills What hath the heart but what 's sent from the liver If thou' rt the taker I must be the giver Then never boast of what thou dost receive For of such glory I shall thee bereave But why the he art should be usurp'd by thee I must confess seems something strange to me The spirits through thy heat made perfect are But the Materials none of thine that 's clear Their wondrous mixture is of blood and air The first my self second my mother fair But I le not force retorts nor do thee wrong Thy fi'ry yellow froth is mixt among Challeng not all ' cause part we do allow Thou know'st I've there to do as well as thou But thou wilt fay I deal unequally Their lives the ira●●ible faculty Which without all dispute is Choler 's own Besides the vehement heat only there known Can be imputed unto none but fire Which is thy self thy Mother and thy Sire That this is true I easily can assent If still you take along my Aliment And let me be your partner which is due So shall I give the dignity to you Again Stomacks Concoction thou dost claim But by what right nor do'st nor canst thou name Unless as heat it be thy faculty And so thou challengest her property The help she needs the loving liver lends Who th' benefit o' th' whole ever intends To meddle further I shall be but shent Th' rest to our Sisters is more pertinent Your slanders thus refuted takes no place Nor what you 've said doth argue my disgrace Now through your leaves some little time I 'll spend My worth in humble manner to commend This hot moist nutritive humour of mine When 't is untaint pure and most genuine Shall chiefly take the place as is my due Without the least indignity to you Of all your qualities I do partake And what you single are the whole I make Your hot moist cold dry natures are but four I moderately am all what need I more As thus if hot then dry if moist then cold If this you cann't disprove then all I hold My virtues hid I 've let you dim●y see My sweet Complection proves the verity This Scarlet die's a badge of what 's within One touch thereof so beauti●ies the skin Nay could I be from all your tangs but pure Mans life to boundless Time might still endure But here one thrusts her heat wher'ts not requir'd So suddenly the body all is fired And of the calme sweet temper quite bereft Which ' makes the Mansion by the Soul soon left So Melancholy seizes on a man With her unchearful visage swarth and wan The body dryes the mind sublime doth smother And turns him to the womb of 's earthy mother And flegm likewise can shew her cruel art With cold distempers to pain every part The lungs she rots the body wears away As if she 'd leave no flesh to turn to clay Her languishing diseases though not quick At length demolishes the Faberick All to prevent this curious care I take In th' last concoction segregation make Of all the perverse humours from mine own The bitter choler most malignant known I turn into his Cell close by my side The Melancholy to the Spleen t' abide Likewise the whey some use I in the veins The overplus I send unto the reins But yet for all my toil my care and skill It s doom'd by an irrevocable will That my intents should meet with interruption That mortal man might turn to his corruption I might here shew the nobleness of mind Of such as to the sanguine are inclin'd They 're liberal pleasant kind and courteous And like the Liver all benignious For arts and sciences they are the fittest And maugre Choler still ●hey are the wittiest With an ingenious working Phantasie A most voluminous large Memory And nothing wanting but Solidity But why alas thus tedious should be Thousand examples you may ●aily see If time I have transgrest and been too long Yet could not be more brief wi●hout much wrong I 've scarce wip'd off the spots proud choler cast Such venome lies in words though but a blast No braggs i 've us'd to you I dare appeal If modesty my worth do not conceal I 've us'd no bittererss nor ●axt your name As I to you to me do ye the same Melancholy He that with two Assailants hath to do Had need be armed well and active too Especially when friendship is pretended That blow's most deadly where it is intended Though choler rage and rail I 'le not do so The tongue 's no weapon to assau●t a foe● But ●ith we fight with words we might be kind To spare our selves and beat the whistling wind Fair rosie sister so might'st thou scape free I 'le flatter for a time as thou didst me But when the first offender I have laid Thy soothing girds shall fully be repaid But Choler be thou cool●d or chaf'd I 'le venter And in contentions lists now justly enter What mov'd thee thus to vilifie my name Not past all reason but in truth all shame Thy fiery spirit shall bear away this prize To play such furious pranks I am too wise If in a Souldier rashness be so precious Know in a General t is most pernicious Nature doth teach to shield the head from harm The blow that 's aim'd thereat is latcht by th' arm When in Batalia my foes I face I then command proud Choler stand thy place To use thy sword thy courage and thy art There to defend my self thy better part This wariness count not for cowardize He is not truly valiant that 's not wise It 's no less glory to defend a

lasts to eternity When each of you shall in your nest Among your young ones take your rest In chirping language oft them tell You had a Dam that lov'd you well That did what could be done for young And nurst you up till you were strong And 'fore she once would let you fly She shew'd you joy and misery Taught what was good and what was ill What would save life and what would kill Thus gone amongst you I may live And dead yet speak and counsel give Farewel my birds farewel adieu I happy am if well with you A. B. In memory of my dear grand-child Elizabeth Bradstreet who deceased August 1605. being a year and half old FArewel dear babe my hearts too much content Farewel sweet babe the pleasure of mine eye Farewel fair flower that for a space was lent Then ta'en away unto Eternity Blest babe why should I once bewail thy fate Or sigh the dayes so soon were terminate Sith thou art setled in an Everlasting state 2. By nature Trees do rot when they are grown And Plumbs and Apples throughly ripe do fall And Corn and grass are in their season mown And time brings down what is both strong and tall But plants new set to be eradicate And buds new blown to have so short a date Is by his hand alone that guides nature and fate In memory of my dear grand child Anne Bradstreet Who deceased June 20. 1669. being three years and seven Moneths old WIth troubled heart trembling hand I write The Heavens have chang'd to sorrow my delight How oft with disappointment have I met When I on fading things my hopes have set Experience might 'fore this have made me wise To value things according to their price Was ever stable joy yet found below Or perfect bliss without mixture of woe I knew she was but as a withering flour That 's here to day perhaps gone in an hour Like as a bubble or the brittle glass Or like a shadow turning as it was More fool then I to look on that was lent As if mine own when thus impermanent Farewel dear child thou ne●re shall come to me But yet a while and I shall go to thee Mean time my throbbing heart 's chear'd up with this Thou with thy Saviour art in endless bliss On my dear Grand-child Simon Bradstreet Who dyed on 16. Novemb. 1669. being but a moneth and one day old No sooner come but gone and fal'n asleep Acquaintance short yet parting caus'd us weep Three flours two scarcely blown the last i' th' bud Cropt by th' Almighties hand yet is he good With dreadful awe before him let 's be mute Such was his will but why let 's not dispute With humble hearts and mouths put in the dust Let 's say he 's me●ciful as well as just He will return and make up all our losses And smile again after our bitter crosses Go pretty babe go rest with Sisters twain Among the blest in endless joyes remain A. B. To the memory of my dear Daughter in Law Mrs. Mercy Bradstreet who deceased Sept. 6. 1669. in the 28. year of her Age. And live I still to see Relations gone And yet survive to sound this wailing tone Ah woe is me to write thy Funeral Song Who might in reason yet have lived long I saw the branches lopt the Tree now fall I stood so nigh it crusht me down withal My bruised heart lies sobbing at the Root That thou dear Son hath lost both Tree and fruit Thou then on Seas failing to forreign Coast Was ignorant what riches thou hadst lost But ah too soon those heavy tydings fly To strike thee with amazing misery Oh how I simpathize with thy sad heart And in thy griefs still bear a second part I lost a daughter dear but thou a wife Who lov'd thee more it seem'd then her own life Thou being gone she longer could not be Because her Soul she 'd sent along with thee One week she only past in pain and woe And then her sorrows all at once did go A Babe she left before she soar'd above The fifth and last pledg of her dying love E're nature would it hither did arrive No wonder it no longer did survive So with her Children four she 's now at rest All ●reed from grief I trust among the blest She one hath left a joy to thee and me The Heavens vouchsafe she may so ever be Chear up dear Son thy fainting bleeding heart In him alone that caused all this smart What though thy strokes full sad grievous be He knows it is the best for thee and me A. B. A Funeral Elogy Vpon that Pattern and Patron of Virtue the truely pious peerless matchless Gentlewoman Mrs. Anne Bradstreet right Panaretes Mirror of Her Age Glory of her 〈◊〉 whose Heaven-born-Soul leaving its earthly Shrine chose its native home and was taken to its Rest upon 16th Sept. 1672. ASk not why hearts turn Magazines of passions And why that grief is clad in sev'ral fashions Why She on progress goes and doth not borrow The smallest respite from th'extreams of sorrow Her misery is got to such an height As makes the earth groan to support its weight Such storms of woe so strongly have beset her She hath no place for worse nor hope for better Her comfort is if any for her be That none can shew more cause of grief then she Ask not why some in mournfull black are clad The Sun is set there needs must be a shade Ask not why every face a sadness shrowdes The setting Sun ore-cast us hath with Clouds Ask not why the great glory of the Skye That gil●s the starrs with heavenly Alchamy Which all the world doth lighten with his rayes The Perslan God the Monarch of the dayes Ask not the reason of his ex●asie Paleness of late in midnoon Majesty Why that the palefac'd Empress of the night Disrob'd her brother of his glorious light Did not the language of the starrs foretel A mournfull Sc●ne when they with tears did swell Did not the glorious people of the Skye Seem sensible of future misery Did not the lowring heavens seem to express The worlds great lose and their unhappiness Behold how tears ●ow from the learned hill How the bereaved Nine do daily fill The bosome of the fleeting Air with groans And wofull Accents which witness their moanes How doe the Goddesses of verse the learned quire Lament their rival Qui●l which all admire Could Maro's Muse but hear her lively strain He would condemn his works to fire again Methinks I hear the Patron of the Spring The unshorn Diety abruptly sing Some doe for anguish weep for anger I That Ignorance should live and Art should die Black fatal dismal inauspicious day Unblest for ever by Sol's precious Ray Be it the first of Miseries to all Or last of Life defam'd for Funeral When this day yearly comes let every one Cast in their urne the black and dismal stone Succeeding years as they their circuit goe Leap o're this day as a sad time of woe Farewell my Muse since thou hast left thy shrine I am unblest in one but blest in nine Fair Thespian Ladyes light your torches all Attend your glory to its Funeral To court her ashes with a learned tear A briny sacrifice let not a smile appear Grave Matron whoso seeks to blazon thee Needs not make use of witts false Heraldry Whoso should give thee all thy worth would swell So high as 't would turn the world infidel Had he great Maro's Muse or Tully's tongue Or raping numbers like the Thracian Song In crowning of her merits he would be sumptuously poor low in Hyperbole To write is easie but to write on thee Truth would be thought to forfeit modesty He 'l seem a Poet that shall speak but true Hyperbole's in others are thy due Like a most servile flatterer he will show Though he write truth and make the subject You. Virtue ne're dies time will a Poet ●aise Born under better Starrs shall sing thy praise Praise her who list yet he shal be a debtor For Art ne're seign'd nor Nature fram'd a better Her virtues were so great that they do raise A work to trouble fame astonish praise When as her Name doth but salute the ear Men think that they perfections abstract hear Her breast was a brave Pallace a Broad-street Where all heroick ample thoughts did meet Where nature such a Tenement had tane That others souls to hers dwelt in a lane Beneath her feet pale envy bites her chain And poison Malice whetts her sting in vain Let every Laurel every Myrtel bough Be stript for leaves t' adorn and load ●er brow Victorious wreathes which ' cause they never fade Wise elder times for Kings and Poets made Let not her happy memory e're lack Its worth in Fames eternal Almanack Which none shall read but straight their loss deplore And blame their Fates they were not born before Do not old men rejoyce their ●ates did last And infants too that theirs did make such hast In such a welcome time to bring them forth That they might be a witness to her worth Who undertakes this subject to commend Shall nothing find to hard as how to end Finis non John Norton Omnia Romanae sileant Miracula Gentis