Goffe, Thomas · published 1633 · first performed or written 1617 [c.1613-c.1618] (Annals) tragedy · at University unassigned nearest T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and · 527 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
But come my Lord, true love still hates delays, Let no ears first be blessed with your breath, Till on my breast resting your wearied head, You tell your war, where that the field's your bed. My Queen shall have her will, see how times change, I that last night thought all the world a sea, As if our common mother earth, had now Shot herself wholly into Neptune's arms, And the strong hinges of the world had cracked, Letting the moon fall into th' swelling waves, Such watery mountains oft did seem to rise, And quite o'erwhelm us, all the winds at war, Banded the sea one to the others coasts, Ioue thinking Neptune 'gan to strive for heaven, Sent a new sea from thence, and with his thunder, Bad silence to the waves, they uncontrolled, Kept on their noise, and let their fury swell, Turning heaven, earth, sea, clouds, and all to hell, Such Trojan that was saved then 'gan to cry, Happy were they that did with Priam die. It glads me now to think, that that night was No star, no, not Orion there appeared, But this night's turned today, and here doth shine, For a good Omen my embraced Queen. With whom her Agamemnon still will stay, Till age and death shall bear him quite away. ANd that shall be ere long, tush (shall be's) slow, My vengeful thoughts tell me thou now art dead. Fie saint Apollo, weakling infant-God, Why wouldst thou let lame Vulcan's hammers beat Down those brave Turrets which thou helpedst to build? Venus, I see thou art a woman now, Which here are like to take a double foil, For me, that whilom revelled in thy camp In the sweet pleasures of incestuous sheets Must leave our loved unsatiate desires: But now begin, thou black Eumenides, You handmaids of great Dis, let such a flame Of anger burn me, as doth Etna's forge, On fury, on, our hate shall not die thus: I'll draw my poisonous arrow to the length, That it may hit the mark and fly with strength. COme now my dearest friend, my other self, My empty soul is now filled to the top, Brimful with gladness, and it must run o'er Into my dear friend's heart: those silver hairs, Which Time hath crowned my Father's brow withal, Do shine within mine eyes, and like the Sun, Extract all drossy vapours from my soul, Like as the earth, whom frost hath long benumbed, And brought an Icy dryness on her face, Her veins so open at a sudden thaw, That all plants, fruits, flowers, and tender grafts, Kept as close prisoners in their mother's womb, Starts out their heads, and on a sudden doth The sad earth's countenance with a summer look, So in this breast, here in this breast, dear friend, Whiles Annus ten times circled in the world Ten clumsy winters, and ten lagging springs Hath with my Father's absence frozen been All thoughts of joy, which now shall make a spring In my refreshed soul; " Things that we daily see th' affections cloy, Hope's long desired bring the greatest joy:
seed 43: T53 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
But come my Lord, true loue still hates delayes, Let no eares first be blessed with your breath, Till on my brest resting your wearied head, You tell your warre, whe that the field's your bed. My Queen shal haue her wil, see how times change, I that last night thought all the world a sea, As if our common mother earth, had now Shot her selfe wholly into Neptunes armes, And the strong hindges of the world had crackt, Letting the moone fall into th' swelling waues, Such watry mountaines oft did seeme to rise, And quite o'rwhelme vs, all the winds at warre, Banded the sea one to the others coasts, Ioue thinking Neptune gan to striue for heauen, Sent a new sea from thence, and with his thunder, Bad silence to the waues, they vncontrold, Kept on their noyse, and let their fury swell, Turning heauen, earth, sea, clouds, and all to hell, Such Troian that was saued then' gan to cry, Happy were they that did with Priam die. It glads mee now to thinke, that that night was No starre, no, not Orion there appear'd, But this night's turnd to day, and heere doth shine, For a good Omen my imbraced Queene▪ With whom her Agamemnon still will stay, Till age and death shall beare him quite away. ANd that shall be ere long, tush (shall be's) slow, My vengefull thoughts tell mee thou now art dead. Fie saint Apollo, weakling infant-God, Why wouldst thou let lame Vulcan's hammers beat Downe those braue Turrets which thou help'dst to build? Venus, I see thou art a woman now, Which here are like to take a double foyle, For me, that whilome reueld in thy campe In the sweet pleasures of incestuous sheets Must leaue our lou'd vnsatiate desires: But now begin, thou blacke Eumenides, You hand-mayds of great Dis, let such a flame Of anger burne mee, as doth Etna's forge, On fury, on, our hate shall not die thus: I'll draw my poysonous arrow to the length, That it may hit the marke and fly with-strength. COme now my dearest friend, my other selfe, My empty soule is now fild to the top, Brimfull with gladnesse, and it must runne o'r Into my deare friends heart: those siluer hayres, Which Time hath crown'd my Fathers brow withall, Doe shine within mine eyes, and like the Sunne, Extract all drossie vapors from my soule, Like as the earth, whom frost hath long benumb'd, And brought an Icie drinesse on her face, Her veines so open at a sudden thaw, That all plants, fruits, flowers, and tender grafts, Kept as close prisoners in their mothers wombe, Starts out their heads, and on a sudden doth The sad earths countenance with a summer looke, So in this brest, here in this brest, deare friend▪ Whiles Annus ten times circled in the world Ten clumzie winters, and ten lagging springs Hath with my Fathers absence frozen beene All thoughts of ioy, which now shall make a spring In my refreshed soule; " Things that wee daily seeth' affections cloy, " Hopes long desired bring the greatest ioy: