Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1604 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 500 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Yet forced to fear the frailty of her kind, A hearing woman may in time be moved; Thus tossed with doubts amidst a deep of woe, Which with suspicion did my joys supplant, I blamed the thoughts that durst accuse her so, As virtue's pattern could one virtue want; And, ●or I hoped, his toils no further wrought, (Affliction oft affection doth inflame) She of her sex who was the wonder thought, Would thus not wrong the glory of her name, Though in my absence they had oft assayed, That from her mind they might have me removed, (The Sun burns hottest when his beams are stayed) The more they crossed her love, the more she loved; For finding that delay no end affords, And how fair Generals only flowed from Art, She did upbraid him with disdainful words, To raze those hopes that had abused his heart; Love is a joy which upon pain depends, A drop of sweet, drowned in a sea of sours; What folly doth begin, oft fury ends, They hate for ever, who have loved for hours: When all his arguments proved of no force, Strait with disdain his soul in secret burned, And what he thought was ill, to make far worse, That Apostate to fury favour turned; Through love preposterous procreating hate, His thoughts amongst themselves could not agree, Whilst what was best he deeply did debate, To see her dead, or then enjoyed by me: What (said he) when he first had mused a space, (So hard it is to quench affections fires) Shall I disfigure that Angelic face, And cloud those beauties which the world admires? Shall she by me be to confusion brought, To whom I vows, and prayers did impart? To whom I sacrificed each secret thought, And on her beauty's altar burned my heart? Or shall I see her in another's power, And in his bosom laid, upbraid my loss, Whilst both with scornful smiles; then death more sour, To point me out for sport, report my cross? That sight which sometime did me sweetly charm, Should it become a cause of grief to me? No, none who live shall glory in my harm, Since she will not be mine, she shall not be. The hateful love having vowed her death, Did with a cup of poison drown my joys; The fairest body from the sweetest breath Was parted thus (O ocean of annoys!) That Monster Fame, whose many mouths and ears Must know, but not conceal a rare thing long, And prodigal of ill, most chief bears The worst news first, informed me of this wrong: For neighbouring near the most unhappy part, That had been spoiled of such a noble guest, As death had hers, the furies seized my heart, Whose pain did spring from that which bred her rest; How huge a weight did first confound my soul No tongue can tell; it still my mind torments, Rage did of grief the outward signs control:
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)
Yet forc'd to feare the frailty of her kinde, "A hearing woman may in time be mov'd; Thus toſſ'd with doubts amidſt a deep of woe, Which with ſuſpition did my joyes ſupplant, I blam'd the thoughts that durſt accuſe her ſo, As vertues patterne could one vertue want; And, or I hop'd, his toils no further wrought, "(Affliction oft affection doth enflame) She of her ſex who was the wonder thought, Would thus not wrong the glory of her name, Though in my abſence they had oft aſſai'd, That from her minde they might have me remov'd, (The Sunne burns hoteſt when his beames are ſtay'd) The more they croſſ'd her love, the more ſhe lov'd; For finding that delay no end affords, And how faire Generals onely flow'd from Art, She did upbraid him with diſdainefull words, To raze thoſe hopes that had abuſ'd his heart; "Love is a joy which upon paine depends, "A drop of ſweet, drown'd in a ſea of ſowres; "What folly doth begin, oft fury ends, "They hate for ever, who have lov'd for houres: When all his arguments prov'd of no force, Straight with diſdaine his ſoule in ſecret burn'd, And what he thought was ill, to make farre worſe, That Apoſtate to furie favour turn'd; Through love prepoſterous procreating hate, His thoughts amongſt themſelves could not agree, Whil'ſt what was beſt he deeply did debate, To ſee her dead, or then enjoy'd by me: What (ſaid he) when he firſt had mus'd a ſpace, (So hard it is to quench affections fires) Shall I disfigure that Angelike face, And cloud thoſe beauties which the world admires? Shall ſhe by me be to confuſion brought, To whom I vows, and prayers did impart? To whom I ſacrifiz'd each ſecret thought, And on her beauties altar burn'd my heart? Or ſhall I ſee her in anothers pow'r, And in his boſome laid, upbraid my loſſe, Whil'ſt both with ſcornfull ſmiles; then death more ſowre, To point me out for ſport, report my croſſe? That ſight which ſometime did me ſweetly charme, Should it become a cauſe of griefe to me? No, none who live ſhall glory in my harme, Since ſhe will not be mine, ſhe ſhall not be. The hatefull love having vow'd her death, Did with a cup of poyſon drowne my joyes; The faireſt body from the ſweeteſt breath Was parted thus (O ocean of annoyes!) That Monſter Fame, whoſe many mouthes and eares Muſt know, but not conceale a rare thing long, And prodigall of ill, moſt chiefly beares The worſt news firſt, inform'd me of this wrong: For neighbouring neare the moſt unhappy part, That had beene ſpoyl'd of ſuch a noble gueſt, As death had hers, the furies ſeiz'd my heart, Whoſe paine did ſpring from that which bred her reſt; How huge a weight did firſt confound my ſoule No tongue can tell; it ſtill my minde torments, Rage did of griefe the outward ſignes controll: