Cowley, Abraham · published 1638 · first performed or written 1633 [c.1633-1636] (Annals) pastoral unassigned nearest T32 Rings and jewels as tokens · 506 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T32: ring, ti, gave, finger, jewel, lady, lord, love, invisible, away.
'Tis a hard task, But if that fellow did so much by strength, I may well do't armed both with love and fury. Of which thou hast enough. Farewell thou rat. The Cedar bids the shrub adieu. Farewell Don Hercules Alcido de secundo. If thou scarest any, 'twill be by that name. This is a wonderful rare fellow, and I like his humour mightily— who's here? The Chronicle of a hundred years ago! How many crows hath she outlived? sure death Hath quite forgot her; by this Memento mori I must invent some trick to help Palaemon. I am going again to Callidorus, But I have got a better present now, My own ring made of good Ebony, Which a young handsome shepherd bestowed on me Some fourscore years ago, than they all loved me, I was a handsome Lass, I wosse in those days. I so thou wert I'll warrant; here's good sign of't Now I'll begin the work, Reverend Truga, Whose very Autumn shows how glorious The spring-time of your youth was— Are you come To put your mocks upon me? I do confess indeed my former speeches Have been too rude and saucy; I have flung Mad jests too wildly at you; but considering The reverence which is due to age, and virtue, I have repented, will you see my tears? And believe them? Oh for an onion now! Or I shall laugh aloud; ha, ha, ha!) Alas good soul I do forgive you truly; I would not have you weep for me, indeed I ever thought you would repent at last, You might well, But the right valuing of your worth and virtue Hath turned the folly of my former scorn Inro a wiser reverence, pardon me If I say love. ay, ay, with all my heart, But do you speak sincerely? Oh! it grieves me That you should doubt it, what I spoke before Were lies, the offspring of a foolish rashness, I see some sparks still of your former beauty, Which spite of time still flourish. Why, I am not So old as you imagined, I am yet But fourscore years. Am I a January now? How do you think? I always did believe You'd be of another opinion one day; I know you did but jest. Oh no, oh no, (I see it takes) How you belie your age— for— let me see— A man would take you— let me see— for— Some forty years or thereabouts (I mean four hundred) Not a jot more I swear. Oh no! you flatter me, But I look something fresh indeed this morning. I should please Callidorus mightily, But I'll not go perhaps; this fellow is As handsome quite as he, and I perceive He loves me hugely, I protest I will not Have him grow mad, which he may chance to do If I should scorn him. I have something here Which I would fain reveal to you, but dare not Without your licence. Do in Pan's name, do; now, now.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T30 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
'Tis a hard taske, But if that fellow did so much by strength, I may well do't arm'd both with love and fury. Of which thou hast enough. Farewell thou ratte. The Cedar bids the shrub adiew. Farewell Don Hercules Alcido de secundo. If thou scar'st any, 'twill be by that name. This is a wonderfull rare fellow, and I like his humor mightily—who's here? The Chronicle of a hundred yeares agoe! How many crowes hath she outliv'd? sure death Hath quite forgot her; by this Memento mori I must invent some trick to helpe Palaemon. I am going againe to Callidorus, But I have got a better present now, My owne ring made of good Ebony, Which a yong handsome shepheard bestow'd on me Some fourescore years agoe, then they all lov'd me, I was a handsome Lasse, J wosse in those dayes. I so thou wert I'le warrant; here's good signe of't Now Ile begin the worke, Reverend Truga, Whose very Autumne shewes how glorious The spring-time of your youth was— Are you come To put your mocks upon me? I doe confesse indeed my former speeches Have beene too rude and saucy; I have flung Madde jests too wildly at you; but considering The reverence which is due to age, and vertue, I have repented, will you see my teares? And beleeve them? Oh for an onyon now! Or J shall laugh alowd; ha, ha, ha!) Alas good soule I doe forgive you truly; I would not have you weepe for me, indeed I ever thought you would repent at last, You might well, But the right valewing of your worth and vertue Hath turn'd the folly of my former scorne Inro a wiser reverence, pardon me If I say love. I, I, withall my heart, But doe you speake sincerely? Oh! it grieves me That you should doubt it, what I spoke before Were lyes, the off-spring of a foolish rashnesse, I see some sparks still of your former beauty▪ Which spight of time still flourish. Why, I am not So old as you imagined, I am yet But fourescore yeares. Am I a January now? How doe you thinke? I alwayes did beleeve You'd be of another opinion one day; I know you did but jest. Oh no, oh no, (I see it takes) How you bely your age— for— let me see— A man would take you—let me see— for— Some forty yeares or thereabouts (I meane foure hundred) Not a jot more J sweare. Oh no! you flatter me, But I looke something fresh indeed this morning. I should please Callidorus mightily, But I'le not goe perhaps; this fellow is As handsome quite as he, and I perceive He loves me hugely, I protest I will not Have him grow madde, which he may chance to doe If I should scorne him. I have something here Which I would faine reveale to you, but dare not Without your licence. Doe in Pans name, doe; now, now.