Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
THe sorrowed face of Fortune's force, my pinching pain doth move I settled ruler of my realm enforced am to love: judge Apius I the princeliest judge, that reigneth under son, And have been so esteemed long, but now my force is done: I rule no more, but ruled am, I do not judge, but am Judged, By beauty of Virginia, my wisdom all is trudged, Oh peerless Dame, Oh passing piece, oh face of such a feature, That never erst with beauty such, matched was by nature: Oh fond Apelles prattling fool, why boastest thou so much? The famoust piece thou mad'st in Greece, whose liments were Or why didst thou deceived man, for beauty of thy work? In such a sort with fond desire, where no kind life did lurk, With raging fits thou fool ran mad, oh fond Pygmalion, Yet sure if that thou sawest my dear, the like thou couldst make none, Then what may I, oh Gods above, bend down to hear my cry, As once he did to Salmasis, in Pond hard Lyzia by: Oh that Virginia were in case as sometime Salmasis, And in Hermafroditus' steed, myself might seek my bliss, Ah Gods, would I unfold her arms, complecting of my neck? Or would I hurt her nimble hand, or yield her such a check? Would I gainsay her tender skin, to bathe where I do wash? Or else refuse her soft sweet lips, to touch my naked flesh? Nay, oh the Gods do know my mind, I rather would require, To sue, to serve, to crouch, to kneel, to crave for my desire. But out ye Gods, ye bend your brows, and frown to see me fare, Ye do not force my fickle fate, ye do not way my care, Unrighteous, and unequal Gods, unjust, and eke unsure, Woe worth the time ye made me live, to see this hapless hour: Did Iphis hang himself for love, of Lady not so fair? Or else did Ioue the cloudy mists, bend down from lightsome air: Or as the Poets mention make, of Inach's daughter meek, For love did he to make a Cow, whom Inach long did seek: Is love so great, to cause the quick, to enter into Hell, As stout Orpheus did attempt, as histories do tell? Then what is it that love cannot? Why love did pierce the skies: Why Pheb. and famous Mercury, with love had blinded eyes? But I a judge of grounded years, shall reap to me such name, As shall resound dishonour great, with Trump of careless fame: Oh that my years were youthful yet, or that I were unwedded. WHy cease sir Knight, for why perhaps, of you she shallbe bedded: For follow my counsel, so may you me please, That of careful resurging, your heart shall have ease.
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)
THe ſorowed face of Fortunes force, my pinching paine doth moue I ſetled ruler of my realme inforced am to loue: Iudge Apius I the prmeeleſt Iudge, that raigneth vnder ſonne, And haue bene ſo eſtaeemed long, but now my force is done: I rule no more, but ruled am, I do not Iudge, but am Iudged, By beuty of Virginia, my wiſdome all is trudged, Oh pereleſſe Dame, Oh paſſing peece, oh face of ſuch a fature, That neuer eſt with bower ſuch, matched was by nature: Oh fond Apelles pratling foole, why boaſteſt thou ſo much? The famoſt peee thou madſt in Greece, whoſe ments were Or why oldſt thou decued man, for beuty of thy worke? In ſuch a ſort with fond deſtre, where no kinde lyfe dyd lurke, With raging fits thou foole ran mad, oh fond Pigmalion, Yet ſure if that thou ſaweſt my deare, the like ye couldſt make none, Then what may I, oh Gods aboue, bend downe to heare my crie, As once he did to Salmaſis, in Pond hard Lyzia by: Oh that Virginia were in caſe as ſomtime Salmaſis, And in Hermafroditus ſteede, my ſelfe might ſéeke my bliſſe, Ah Gods, would I vnfolde her armes, complecting of my necke? Or would I hurt her nimble hand, or yéelde her ſuch a checke? Would I gainſay hir tender ſkinne, to baath where I do waſhe? Or els refuſe hir ſoft ſweete lippes, to touch my naked fleſhe? Nay, oh the Gods do know my minde, I rather would requier, To ſue, to ſerue, to crouch, to kneele, to craue for my deſter. But out ye Gods, ye bende your browes, and frowne to ſée me fare, Ye do not force my fickle fate, ye do not way my care, Unrighteous, and vnequall Gods, vniuſt, and eke vnſure, Woe worth the time ye made me liue, to ſée this hapleſſe houre: Dyd Iphis hang himſelfe for loue, of Lady not ſo faire? Or els did Ioue the cloudie miſtes, bend downe from lightſome ayre: Or as the Poets mencion make, of Inachs daughter meeke, For loue dyd he to make a Cowe, whom Inach long dyd ſéeke: Is loue ſo great, to cauſe the quicke, to enter into Hell, As ſtout Orpheus did attempt, as hiſtories do tell? Then what is it that loue cannot? Why loue dyd pearce the ſkies: Why Pheb. and famous Marcury, with loue had blinded eies? But I a Iudge of grounded yeeres, ſhall reape to me ſuch name, As ſhall reſounde diſhonour great, with Trump of careleſſe fame: Oh that my yeeres were youthfull yet, or that I were vnweded. WHy ceaſe ſir Knight, for why perhaps, of you ſhe ſhalbe bedded: For folow my counſell, ſo may you me pleaſe, That of carefull reſurging, your hart ſhall haue eaſe.