Rutter, Joseph · published 1635 · first performed or written 1634 [1633-1635] (Annals) pastoral · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men · before the Court unassigned nearest T38 Death, parting and grief at court · 509 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T38: queen, king, death, dead, heart, life, die, lord, royal, news.
Then let me die, take me into thy Arms, Sweet love, you'll see my coffin strewed with flowers, And you Dorinda, will you make a garland? I die a virgin, though I die his wife. Alas, she's gone. She's dead, and do I live? Look to the shepherd there: oh my Nerina! Vex not her soul, I pray, with often calling, You see she's dead. Then there is no hope left: Pray help us shepherds now to bear her hence; You'll come I hope to see her in her grave. HEre I am come unto a place, where grief They say has no abode. In PRINCE's Courts, I've heard there is no room for loves laments: For either they enjoy, or else forget, Thrice happy men, to whom love gives such leave: It may be that this place, or people may Work so with me, and melt this frozen heart: Ah fool, that canst believe the change of place, Or air, can change thy mind; the love thou bear'st, Is woven so within thy thoughts, that as Out of this piece thy Sylvia wrought for thee, Thou canst not take her name forth, but withal Thou must deface the whole: so Thyrsis think The wind that here may rise, or heat, or rain Thou mayst avoid, thy love will still remain, And when thou diest, then may it die with thee; Till then resolve to endure thy misery. This is the garden, which I saw him go to, And that is he, for all the marks she gave me To know him by, he bears. A heaviness Weighs down my head, and would invite me to Repose myself; I'll take the offer, here I'll rest awhile, for I have need of it. How if I be deceived, and this should prove Another man: what then? I can excuse it; He's laid already, and I fear, asleep, I'll stay until he wake, but then suppose That anybody come, and take me here, What will they think of me? Best wake him: shepherd: It is a handsome youth, see what a grace Shows itself in his feature, such a face Might take the heart of any Lady living, ay, though she were a Princess: shepherd: what Not yet? his sleeps are sound. Ah Sylvia, Preserve thy life, oh let me die; Alas I do but dream; methought I saw myself Condemned to die, and Sylvia to save me, Offered herself, and would needs die for me: 'Twas a sweet shadow, let me court this dream. He must not sleep again: shepherd look up. Who envies me this small repose, indeed I do not often sleep; ha, who are you? Sent to thee, from thy Sylvia, shepherd rise And follow me. Do I dream still? what are you? Came you from heaven where my Sylvia is, And must I thither? whoso ere you are, An Angel, or a fiend, in such a name You come, as I'm conjured to follow you: But I must die first: Here is to be with thee.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Then let me die, take me into thy Armes, Sweet love, you'le ſee my coffin ſtrew'd with flowers, And you Dorinda, will you make a garland? I die a virgine, though I die his wife. Alas, ſhe's gon. She's dead, and do I live? Looke to the ſhepheard there: oh my Nerina! Vexe not her ſoule, I pray, with often calling, You ſee ſhe's dead. Then there is no hope left: Pray helpe us ſhepheards now to beare her hence; You'le come I hope to ſee her in her grave. HEre I am come unto a place, where griefe They ſay has no abode. In Princes Courts, I've heard there is no roome for loves laments: For either they enjoy, or elſe forget, Thrice happy men, to whom love gives ſuch leave: It may be that this place, or people may Worke ſo with me, and melt this frozen heart: Ah foole, that canſt beleeve the change of place, Or ayre, can change thy minde; the love thou bearſt, Is woven ſo within thy thoughts, that as Out of this piece thy Sylvia wrought for thee, Thou canſt not take her name forth, but withall Thou muſt deface the whole: ſo Thyrſis thinke The winde that here may riſe, or heat, or raine Thou maiſt auoide, thy love will ſtill remaine, And when thou dieſt, then may it die with thee; Till then reſolve to endure thy miſery. This is the garden, which I ſaw him go to, And that is he, for all the markes ſhe gave me To know him by, he beares. A heavineſſe Weighs downe my head, and would invite me to Repoſe my ſelfe; Ile take the offer, here Ile reſt awhile, for I have need of it. How if I be deceiv'd, and this ſhould proove Another man: what then? I can excuſe it; He's layd already, and I feare, aſleepe, Ile ſtay untill he wake, but then ſuppoſe That any body come, and take me here, What will they thinke of me? Beſt wake him: ſhepheard: It is a hanſome youth, ſee what a grace Shewes it ſelfe in his feature, ſuch a face Might take the heart of any Lady living, I, though ſhe were a Princeſſe: ſhepheard: what Not yet? his ſleepes are ſound. Ah Sylvia, Preſerve thy life, oh let me die; Alas I do but dreame; me thought I ſaw my ſelfe Condemn'd to die, and Sylvia to ſave me, Offerd her ſelfe, and would needs die for me: 'Twas a ſweet ſhadow, let me court this dreame. He muſt not ſleepe againe: ſhepheard looke up. Who envies me this ſmall repoſe, indeed I do not often ſleepe; ha, who are you? Sent to thee, from thy Sylvia, ſhepheard riſe And follow me. Doe I dreame ſtill? what are you? Came you from heaven where my Sylvia is, And muſt I thither? whoſo ere you are, An Angell, or a feind, in ſuch a name You come, as I'me conjurd to follow you: But I muſt die firſt: Here is to be with thee.