Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
An he we'll meet ends: the murky and sable night Doth leave the pering morn to pry abroad, Thou nill me stay, hail than thou pride of kings, I ken the world, and wot well worldly things, Mark thou my jig, in mirkest terms that tells The loath of sins, and where corruption dwells Hail me ne mere with shows of goodly sights: My grave is mine, that rids me from despites. Accept my gig guide King, and let me rest, The grave with guide men, is a gay built nest. The rising sun doth call me hence away, Thanks for thy jig, I may no longer stay: But if my train, did wake thee from thy rest, So shall they sing, thy lullaby to nest. Fair Ida, might you choose the greatest good Midst all the world, in blessings that abound: Wherein my daughter should your liking be? Not in delights, or pomp, or majesty. And why? Since these are means to draw the mind From perfect good, and make true judgement blind. Might you have wealth, and fortune's richest store? Yet would I (might I choose) be honest poor. For she that sits at fortune's feet allow Is sure she shall not taste a further woe. But those that prank one top of fortune's ball, Still fear a change: and fearing catch a fall. Tut foolish maid, each one contemneth need. Good reason why, they know not good indeed. Many marry then, on whom distress doth lour, Yes they that virtue deem an honest dower. madam, by right this world I may compare, Unto my work, wherein with heedful care, The heavenly workman plants with curious hand, As I with needle draw each thing one land, Even as he list, some men like to the Rose, Are fashioned fresh, some in their stalks do close, And borne do sudden die: some are but weeds, And yet from them a secret good proceeds: I with my needle if I please may blot, The fairest rose within my cambric plot, God with a beck can change each worldly thing, The poor to earth, the beggar to the king. What then hath man, wherein he well may boast, Since by a beck he lives, a lover is lost? Peace Ida, here are strangers near at hand. madam God speed. I thank you gentle squire. The country Countess of Northumberland, Doth greet you well, and hath requested me, To bring these letters to your Ladyship. I thank her honour, and yourself my friend. I see she means you good brave Gentleman, Daughter, the Lady Elinor salutes yourself as well as me, then for her sake 'twere good you entertained that courtier well. As much salute as may become my sex, And he in virtue can vouchsafe to think, I yield him for the courteous countess sake. Good sir sit down, my mother here and I, Count time misspent, an endless vanity. Beyond report, the wit, the fair, the shape, What work you here, fair Mistress may I see it?
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)
An he weele meete ends: the mirk and sable night Doth leaue the pering morne to prie abroade, Thou nill me stay, haile then thou pride of kings, I ken the world, and wot well worldly things, Marke thou my gyg, in mirkest termes that telles The loathe of sinnes, and where corruption dwells Haile me ne mere with showes of gudlie sights: My graue is mine, that rids me from dispights. Accept my gig guid King, and let me rest, The graue with guid men, is a gay built nest. The rising sunne doth call me hence away, Thankes for thy gyg, I may no longer stay: But if my traine, did wake thee from thy rest, So shall they sing, thy lullabie to nest. Faire Ida, might you chuse the greatest good Midst all the world, in blessings that abound: Wherein my daughter shuld your liking be? Not in delights, or pompe, or maiestie. And why? Since these are meanes to draw the minde From perfect good, and make true iudgement blind. Might you haue wealth, and fortunes ritchest store? Yet would I (might I chuse) be honest poore. For she that sits at fortunes feete alowe Is sure she shall not taste a further woe. But those that prancke one top of fortunes ball▪ Still feare a change: and fearing catch a fall. Tut foolish maide, each one contemneth need. Good reasō why, they know not good indeed. Many marrie then, on whom distresse doth loure, Yes they that vertue deeme an honest dowre. Madame, by right this world I may compare, Vnto my worke, wherein with heedfull care, The heauenly workeman plants with curious hand, As I with needle drawe each thing one land, Euen as hee list, some men like to the Rose, Are fashioned fresh, some in their stalkes do close, And borne do suddaine die: some are but weeds, And yet from them a secret good proceeds: I with my needle if I please may blot, The fairest rose within my cambricke plot, God with a becke can change each worldly thing, The poore to earth, the begger to the king. What then hath man, wherein hee well may boast, Since by a becke he liues, a louer is lost? Peace Ida, heere are straungers neare at hand. Madame God speed. I thanke you gentle squire. The countrie Countesse of Northumberland, Doth greete you well, and hath requested mee, To bring these letters to your Ladiship. I thanke her honour, and your selfe my friend. I see she meanes you good braue Gentleman, Daughter, the Ladie Elinor salutes Your selfe as well as mee, then for her sake T'were good you entertaind that Courtiour well. As much salute as may become my sex, And hee in vertue can vouchsafe to thinke, I yeeld him for the courteous Countesse sake. Good sir sit downe, my mother heere and I, Count time mispent, an endlesse vanitie. Beyond report, the wit, the faire, the shape, What worke you heere, faire Mistresse may I see it?