Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1604 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T1 Death, grief and revenge · 490 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T1: death, life, dead, die, blood, revenge, soul, father, heart, heaven.
Those flames, which burn my breast, must once burst out, Your counsel for more quiet minds I leave, And be you still thought wise, so I prove stout, I'll conquer more, or lose the thing I have. AH! am I forced out of afflictions store, For my minds ease a few sad words to strain? But yet unload it now, to load it more, I empty but mine eyes to fill again; My soul must sound even as my passions strike, Whilst sighs and tears would fain afford relief; My breast and eyes are both accursed alike, The Cabinet of care, the Springs of grief; O cruel heaven, fierce star, unhappy fate, Too foul injustice of celestial powers! Whose high disdain to me with partial hate The comfort of the world (poor world) devours: Cursed be the day in which I first was borne, When lying tongues affirmed I came to light, A monstroves blasphemy, a mighty scorn, Since where dark sorrow breeds an endless night; Would God I then had chanced this life to leave, The tomb strait taking what the womb did give, Then always buried, changing but the grave, I had not lived to dye, but died to live. What profited to me my Parent's joys, Who with such pomp did solemnize my birth, Since still my soul must float amidst annoys, So to defray one dram of tasted mirth? And it did only serve to make me know The height of horror, threatening to succeed; I was but raised up high, to be brought low, That short lived joys might endless anguish breed; Whilst nothing did for my confusion lack, All my best deeds did but betray my State, My virtues too were guilty of my wrack, And warred against me, banded with my fate; For whilst my Virgin-years with praise I passed, Which did (ah that it did) too much import, My modest eye told that my mind was chaste, Which gained the warrant of the world's report: And all should have a great respect to fame, No greater dowry than a spotless name. Fair beauties God desk, thou canst bear record, My offering never made thine Altar rich; Lascivious fancies highly I abhorred, Whose freeborn thoughts no folly could bewitch; Till happily (ah so it seemed to some) O but unhappily the end hath proved, All this, and more, to Atis ears did come, Who strait did like, and after liking loved; He to our ears, his purpose did impart, Not lip-sicke-lover-like, with words far sought, Whose tongue was but an agent for his heart, Yet could not tell the tenth part that it thougth; And lest his travels should have seemed to tend My honour's fame by fancies to betray, He brought his wishes to a lawful end, And in effect, affection did bewray; There Iuno, precedent of wedlock's vow, And Hymen with his odoriferous cote, With sacred customs did our love allow,
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)
Thoſe flames, which burn my breſt, muſt once burſt out, Your counſell for more quiet mindes I leave, And be you ſtill thought wiſe, ſo I prove ſtout, I'le conquer more, or loſe the thing I have. AH! am I forc'd out of afflictions ſtore, For my mindes eaſe a few ſad words to ſtraine? But yet unlode it now, to lode it more, I empty but mine eyes to fill againe; My ſoule muſt ſound even as my paſſions ſtrike, Whil'ſt ſighes and teares would faine afford reliefe; My breſt and eyes are both accurſt alike, The Cabinet of care, the Springs of griefe; O cruell heaven, fierce ſtarre, unhappy fate, Too foule injuſtice of celeſtiall pow'rs! Whoſe high diſdaine to me with partiall hate The comfort of the world (poore world) devoures: Curſt be the day in which I firſt was borne, When lying tongues affirm'd I came to light, A monſtroues blaſphemy, a mighty ſcorne, Since where darke ſorrow breeds an endleſſe night; Would God I then had chanc'd this life to leave, The tombe ſtraight taking what the wombe did give, Then alwayes buried, changing but the grave, I had not liv'd to dye, but dy'd to live. What profited to me my Parents joyes, VVho with ſuch pompe did ſolemnize my birth, Since ſtil my ſoule muſt flote amidſt annoyes, So to defray one dramme of taſted mirth? And it did onely ſerve to make me know The height of horrour, threatning to ſucceed; I was but rais'd up high, to be brought low, That ſhort liv'd joyes might endleſſe anguiſh breed; Whil'ſt nothing did for my confuſion lacke, All my beſt deeds did but betray my State, My vertues too were guilty of my wracke, And warr'd againſt me, banded with my fate; For whil'ſt my Virgin-yeares with praiſe I paſt, Which did (ah that it did) too much import, My modeſt eye told that my minde was chaſt, Which gain'd the warrant of the worlds report: "And all ſhould have a great reſpect to fame, "No greater dowry then a ſpotleſſe name. Faire beauties God deſſe, thou can'ſt beare record, My offring never made thine Altar rich; Laſcivious fancies highly I abhorr'd, Whoſe free-borne thoughts no folly could bewitch; Till happily (ah ſo it ſeem'd to ſome) O but unhappily the end hath prov'd, All this, and more, to Atis eares did come, Who ſtraight did like, and after liking lov'd; He to our eares, his purpoſe did impart, Not lip-ſicke-lover-like, with words farre ſought, Whoſe tongue was but an agent for his heart, Yet could not tell the tenth part that it thougth; And leſt his travels ſhould have ſeem'd to tend My honours fame by fancies to betray, He brought his wiſhes to a lawfull end, And in effect, affection did bewray; There Iuno, preſident of wedlockes vow, And Hymen with his odoriferous cote, With ſacred cuſtomes did our love allow,