Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T34: thebes, antigone, polynices, creon, eteocles, war, theban, gods, dear, country.
But I brook more than their conceits can show, Whose rich conjectures breed but poor effects: And I beseek you, did you ever know A man more blessed than I in all respects? Yes, I knew Tellus an Athenian borne, Whom I hold happy in the first degree: Who e'en the harvest of Happiness hath shorn, He lived with fame, and did with honour die. For having long time lived, loved and respected, His country in a conflict had the worst: He come, and there fallen courage re-erected, And having won the field did die unforced. More happy now nor when he was alive; He dead, doth reap the guerdon of his merit, And in his children doth again revive, Who all their fathers worthy parts inherit. Well, since that to a private Citizen You do ascribe the first most blessed estate. Now in the second rank of happy men Whom would you number in your own conceit? o Cleobis and Biton! now I may No doubt prefer you next, without reproach, Their mother chanced on a festival day To want two horses, for to draw her coach. Them to supply the place, Love kindly raised, Who drew her to that place of public mirth, And both of them exceedingly were praised, They for their piety, she for her birth. This charitable office being ended, Both in the Church were found dead the next morrow, I think the gods who this good work commended, Were loath to let them taste of farther sorrow. For why? our lives are frail, do what we can, And like the brittle glass, are but a glance, And oft the heavens t'abate the height of man, Do enter our our sweets with some sad chance. Then from this Category am I secluded, And is my state so vile unto thine eyes, That as one of all happiness denuded, Thou thus dost my felicity despise? Or think'st thou me of judgement too remiss, A miser that in misery remains, The bastard child of Fortune, barred from bliss, Whom heavens do hate, and all the world disdains? Are base companions then to be compared With one that may consume such in his wrath? Who, as I please, do punish and reward, Whose words, nay, even whose looks yield life or death. Sir, be not thus commoved without all reason, Nor misconceive my meaning as you do, Those that speak freely, have no mind of treason, I cannot be your friend and flatter to. Unto us Grecians (Sir) the gods have granted A moderate measure of a humble wit, And in our Country there have never wanted Some whom the world for wise men did admit. And yet amongst us all, the greatest number Have here despaired of any perfect rest, Though some a while in Fortune's bosom slumber, And to world-blinded eyes seem to be blessed. Yet over all mortal states, change so prevails, We alterations daily do attend, And hold this for a ground that never fails, None should triumph in bliss before the end.
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)
But I brooke more than their conceits can ſhow, Whoſe rich coniectures breede but poore effects: And I beſeeke you, did you euer know A man more bleſt then I in all reſpects? Yes, I knew Tellus an Athenian borne, Whom I holde happy in the firſt degree: Who eu'n the harueſt of Happineſſe hath ſhorne, He liu'd with fame, and did with honour die. For hauing long time liu'd, lou'd and reſpected, His country in a conflict had the worſt: He come, and there falne courage re-erected, And hauing wonne the field did die vnforſt. More happy now nor when he was aliue; He dead, doth reape the guerdon of his merite, And in his childern doth againe reuiue, Who all their fathers worthy partes inherite. Well, ſince that to a priuate Cittizen You do aſcribe the firſt moſt bleſt eſtate. Now in the ſecond ranke of happy men Whom would you number in your owne conceate? ô Cleobis and Biton! now I may No doubt prefer you next, without reproach, Their mother chanc'd on a feſtiuall day To want two horſes, for to draw her coach. Them to ſupply the place, Loue kindly raiſed, Who drew her to that place of publike mirth, And both of them exceedingly were praiſed, They for their pietie, ſhe for her birth. This charitable office being ended, Both in the Church were found dead the next morrow, I thinke the gods who this good worke commended, Were loth to let them taſte of farther ſorrow. For why? our liues are fraile, do what we can, And like the brittle glaſſe, are but a glance, And oft the heauens t'abate the height of man, Do enterſour our ſweets with ſome ſad chance. Then from this Cathagorie am I ſecluded, And is my ſtate ſo vile vnto thine eies, That as one of all happines denuded, Thou thus do'ſt my felicitie deſpiſe? Or think'ſt thou me of iudgement too remiſſe, A miſer that in miſerie remaines, The baſtard child of Fortune, barr'd from bliſſe, Whom heauens do hate, and all the world diſdaines? Are baſe companions then to be compar'd With one that may conſume ſuch in his wrath? Who, as I pleaſe, do puniſh and reward, Whoſe words, nay, euen whoſe lookes yeeld life or death. Sir, be not thus commoo'ud without all reaſon, Nor miſconceiue my meaning as you do, Thoſe that ſpeake freely, haue no mind of treaſon, I cannot be your friend and flatter to. Vnto vs Graecians (Sir) the gods haue granted A moderate meaſure of a humble wit, And in our Countrie there haue neuer wanted Some whom the world for wiſe men did admit. And yet amongſt vs all, the greateſt number Haue here diſpair'd of any perfect reſt, Though ſome a while in Fortunes boſome ſlumber, And to world-blinded eyes ſeeme to be bleſt. Yet ouer all mortall ſtates, change ſo preuailes, We alterations daily do attend, And hold this for a ground that neuer failes, None ſhould triumph in bliſſe before the end.