Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T53: crown, king, state, life, lord, lords, live, queen, tullia, prince.
That supreme power, by which great States do stand, Should order but th'affection, not undo it And I could wish you might yourself command, Which though you may not well, yet seem to do it. I will not now rehearse, t'enlarge my grief, On what just reasons my laments are grounded, But still will muse upon mine own mischief, While as my soul a thousand ways is wounded. What pensive pencil ever limned aright The sad conceits of soul-consuming woe: Ah! words are weak to show the swelling height Of th'inward anguish that o'erwhelms me so. Though many Monarchs jealously despise The rising Sun that their declining stains; And hate the Heir, who by their fall must rise, As grieved to hear of death, or others reigns. My love towards Atis otherwise appeared, Whom, whilst for him I did my cares engage, I as a Father loved, as King not feared, The comfort, not th'encumbrance of mine age. And hadst thou Son, as reason would, survived me, Who glanced and vanished like a lightning-flash, Than death of life could never have deprived me, Whilst such a Phoenix had revived my ash. Let not these woes eclipse your virtues light. Ah! rage and grief must once be at a height. Strive of your sorrows for to stop the source. These salt eye-floods must flow & have their course. That is not kingly. And yet it is kindly. Where passions do domine they govern blindly. Such woeful plaints cannot repair your State: Th'infortunate at least may wail their Fate. The meanest comfort can t' a wretch return, Is in calamine t'have leave to mourn. What grave-browed Stoic void of all affections, With tearless eyes could that Youths death behold? Though green in years, yet ripe in all perfections, A hoary judgement under locks of gold. No, no man lives but must lament to see The world's chief hope even in his blossom choked: But men cannot control the heavens decree: And mischief done, can never be revoked. Then let not this torment your mind no more, This cross with you alike your Country bears, If wailing could your ruined State restore, Souls fraught with grief should sail in Seas of tears. Lest all our comfort dash against one shelf, And his untimely end occasion yours, Have pity of your people, spare yourself, If not to your own use, yet unto ours. When Sandanis, I first thy faith did find, Thou dived so deeply in my bosom then, That since thou kept the key still of my mind, And knew what I concealed from other men. Behold, I go to open up to you (Dear Treasurer of all my secrets still) A mighty enterprise I mind for now: A Physic in some sort t'assuage my ill. Which may unto my soul yield some relief, And make me to forego sad thoughts content, Or else acquire copartners in my grief, If not for me, yet with me to lament.
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)
That ſupreme Powre, by which great States do ſtand, Should order but th'affection, not vndoe it And I could wiſh you might your ſelfe command, Which though you may not well, yet ſeeme to doe it. I will not now rehearſe, t'enlarge my griefe, On what iuſt reaſons my laments are grounded, But ſtill will muſe vpon mine owne miſchiefe, While as my ſoule a thouſand wayes is wounded. What penſiue penſill euer limm'd aright The ſad conceats of ſoule-conſuming woe: Ah! words are weake to ſhew the ſwelling hight Of th'inward anguiſh that o're-whelms me ſo. Though many Monarchs iealouſly deſpiſe The riſing Sunne that their declining ſtaines; And hate the Heire, who by their fall muſt riſe, As grieu'd to heare of death, or others raignes. My loue towards Atis otherwiſe appeard, Whom, whilſt for him I did my cares engage, I as a Father lou'd, as King not feard, The comfort, not th'encombrance of mine age. And hadſt thou Sonne, as reaſon would, ſuruiu'd me, Who glauncd and vaniſh'd like a lightning-flaſh, Then death of life could neuer haue depriu'd me, Whilſt ſuch a Phaenix had reuiu'd my aſh. Let not theſe woes ecclypſe your Vertues light. Ah! rage and griefe muſt once be at a hight. Striue of your ſorrows for to ſtop the ſource. Theſe ſalt eie-floods muſt flow & haue their courſe. That is not kingly. And yet it is kindly. Where paſſions do domine they gouerne blindly. Such wofull plaints cannot repaire your State: Th'infortunate at leaſt may waile their Fate. The meaneſt comfort can t' a wretch retourne, Is in calamine t'haue leaue to mourne. What graue-browd Stoick voyd of all affections, With teare-leſſe eyes could that Youths death behold? Though greene in yeeres, yet ripe in all perfections, A hoarie iudgement vnder lockes of gold. No, no man liues but muſt lament to ſee The worlds chiefe hope euen in his bloſſome choaked: But men cannot controll the Heau'ns decree: And miſchiefe done, can neuer be reuoked. Then let not this torment your mind no more, This croſſe with you alike your Countrie beares, If wailing could your ruinde State reſtore, Soules fraught with griefe ſhould ſayle in Seas of teares. Leſt all our comfort daſh againſt one ſhelfe, And his vntimely end occaſion yours, Haue pitie of your people, ſpare your ſelfe, If not to your owne vſe, yet vnto ours. When Sandanis, I firſt thy faith did find, Thou diu'd ſo deepely in my boſorn then, That ſince thou kept the key ſtill of my mind, And knew what I conceald from other men. Behold, I go to open vp to you (Deare Treaſurer of all my ſecrets ſtill) A mightie enterpriſe I mind for now: A Phiſicke in ſome ſort t'aſſwage my ill. Which may vnto my ſoule yield ſome reliefe, And make me to forgoe ſad thoughts content, Or els acquire copartners in my griefe, If not for me, yet with me to lament.