Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
A double bondage long did burden me, I to myself, myself to fortune thrall: But now captivity hath set me free, That could not rise till first I had a fall. The sprite that's with prosperity benumbed, Scarce like itself can to the world appear: When Virtue hath Adversity o'ercomed, Then shines true greatness in her highest sphere. Our glory now I see consists no more Without ourselves in eye-betraying shows, But in the breasts inestimable store, That neither Time entombs, nor power o'erthrows. O never were my thoughts enlarged till now, To mark myself, and quintessence my mind, For long a prey to pride, I know not how, A mist of fancies made my judgement blind. As those that dream sweet dreams, awaked, at last Do find their error when their eyes find light, Freed from the slumbering of my fortune past, I now arise to judge of all things right. That cloud of pomp whose smoke me shadowed once, Lo now removed unmasks my life too late: And now I see, that sceptres, crowns, and thrones, Are burdenous badges of a dangerous state. O happy woman, of true pleasure sure, That in the country lead'st a guiltless life: From Fortune's reach retired, obscure, secure, Though not a Queen, yet a contented wife. Thy mate more dear to thee than is the light, Though low in state, loves in a high degree: And with his presence still to bless thy sight, Doth scorn great courts whilst he lives courting thee. And as thou woundst him not with hid disgrace, He with no jealous thought torments thy breast: Thus both lie down to rest, and rise in peace, Then if they strive, they strive who should love best. But though thou have not as the mighty ones, Thy neck surcharge with chains (ah chains indeed) Nor cares weighed down with oriental stones, Nor robes, whole worth may admiration breed. So want'st thou that which we have ever had, Sad miscontentments, jealousy, and spite: And though thy back be not with purple clad, Thy thoughts are clad with innocencies quite. As Birds, whose cage of gold the sight deceives, Do seem to sing whilst they but wail their state: So with the mighty matched, made glorious slaves, We happy seem whilst we but curse our fate. That bliss whose show in us vain eyes do please, Makes thee indeed a true contentment breath, Thou spendst thy youth in mirth, thy age in ease, And know'st not what it is to die till death. Ah since I lived, I have done nought but die, Still when I seemed most blessed, then most accursed: Since on frail greatness first I did rely, How oft hath my swollen breast been like to burst? The Fates with Fortune from my birth conspire, To make my life a pattern of their might: For both my parents from the world retired, When I was scarcely comed t'enjoy the light.
seed 43: T13 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
A double bondage long did burden me, I to my ſelfe, my ſelfe to fortune thrall: But now captiuitie hath ſet me free, That could not riſe till firſt I had a fall. The ſprite thats with proſperitie benum'd, Scarſe like it ſelfe can to the world appeare: When Vertue hath Aduerſitie ore'com'd, Then ſhines true greatnes in her higheſt ſpheare. Our glory now I ſee conſiſts no more Without our-ſelues in eie-betraying ſhowes, But in the breaſts ineſtimable ſtore, That neither Time entombes, nor Powre orethrowes. O neuer were my thoughts enlargde till now, To marke my ſelfe, and quinteſſence my mind, For long a prey to pride, I know not how, A miſt of fancies made my iudgemcnt blinde. As thoſe that dreame ſweet dreames, awakt, at laſt Do finde their errour when their eies finde light, Freed from the ſlumbring of my fortune paſt, I now ariſe to iudge of all things right. That cloud of pomp whoſe ſmoke me ſhadowd once, Loe now remoou'd vnmaskes my life too late: And now I ſee, that ſcepters, crownes, and thrones, Are burdnous badges of a dangerous ſtate. O happy woman, of true pleaſure ſure, That in the countrie leadſt a guiltleſſe life: From Fortunes reach retirde, obſcure, ſecure, Though not a Queene, yet a contented wife. Thy mate more deere to thee than is the light, Though lowe in ſtate, loues in a high degree: And with his preſence ſtill to bleſſe thy ſight, Doth ſcorne great courts whilſt he liues courting thee. And as thou woundſt him not with hid diſgrace, He with no iealous thought torments thy breaſt: Thus both lie downe to reſt, and riſe in peace, Then if they ſtriue, they ſtriue who ſhould loue beſt. But though thou haue not as the mightie ones, Thy necke ſurchargde with chaines (ah chaines indeed) Nor cares weighd downe with oriental ſtones, Nor robes, whole worth may admiration breed. So wantſt thou that which we haue euer had, Sad miſcontentments, iealouſie, and ſpite: And though thy backe be not with purple clad, Thy thoughts are clad with innocencies quite. As Birds, whoſe cage of golde the ſight deceiues, Do ſeeme to ſing whilſt they but waile their ſtate: So with the mighty matcht, made glorious ſlaues, We happy ſeeme whilſt we but curſe our fate. That bliſſe whoſe ſhew in vs vaine eies doe pleaſe, Makes thee indeede a true contentment breathe, Thou ſpendſt thy youth in mirth, thy age in aſe, And knowſt not what it is to die till death. Ah ſince I liu'd, I haue done nought but die, Still when I ſeemde moſt bleſt, then moſt accurſt: Since on fraile greatnes firſt I did relie, How oft hath my ſwolne breaſt bin like to burſt? The Fates with Fortune from my birth conſpirde, To make my life a patterne of their might: For both my parents from the world retirde, When I was ſcarcely com'd t'inioy the light.