Alexander, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1607 [1605-1607] (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T25 Kings, power and law: political sententi · 498 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T25: feare, kings, power, princes, lawes, loue, state, downe, honor, men.
LOg have I used that light which clears my mind, On Nature's labours curiously to look, And (of all creatures finding out the kind) Have read strange wonders in the world's great book: I mark her course by contraries maintained, Whose harmony doth most subsist by strife, And of all creatures in the same contained, How various is the mystery of life? But as all things are subject unto change, Which partners are of th'elemental powers, So (rolled about with revolutions strange) The state of man rests constant scarce for hours. Lo, what doth fame more frequently report, Then sudden rise, and more sudden falls? I think the world is but a Tennis-court, Where Fortune doth play States, toss men for Balls. And never any age showed more than this, The wavering state of soul-ennobled wights, Who soar too high to catch an airy bliss, Whilst lowest falls attend the highest flights. That matchless Monarch who was borne (it seemed) To show how high mortality attains, Hath not from death th'adored flesh redeemed; But pain hath made an end of all his pains. And those brave bands which furnished Fame with breath, Whilst all the world their valorous deeds did spy, Rest now (confounded since their Sovereign's death) Like Polyphemus having lost his eye. And they are like that teeth-engendered brood, Which took their life out of a Monster dead, Whilst each of them would drink the others blood, Since that great Dragon's death who was their head. So change all things which subject are to sight: Disorder order breeds, and order, it: Next light comes darkness, and next darkness light, This never-changing change transcends our wit. Thus health and sickness, poverty and state, Dishonour, honour, life and death, with doubt, Still interchanging (what a true deceit!) All linked together, slide by turns about; To worldly states the heavens a height appoint, Where, when they once arrive, they must descend, And all perfections have a fatal point, At which Excellency itself must end. But as all those who walk on th'earth, are crossed With alterations, happening oft, and strange, The greatest States with greatest storms are tossed, And (sought of many) must make many a change. Nor speak I this by speculation moved, (As gathering credit out of ancient scrolls) No, I have lived at Court, and oft have proved Nothing below more vexed, then great men's Souls; The Tyrant honours thralls, while as they moan, Their plaints to vulgar ears loath to impart, They all the weight of woes must bear alone, Where others of their grief lend friends apart. Their very rising o'er us to the height, Which seems their best is worst, for, being Lords, They never know the truth that comes to light, When frank society speaks naked words. Whilst sadness oft seems Majesty, Time tells How dear they buy their pomp with loss of rest: Some but three furies fain in all the hells; There are three thousand in one great man's breast.
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)
LOg have I us'd that light which cleares my minde, On Natures labours curiouſly to look, And (of all creatures finding out the kinde) Have read ſtrange wonders in the worlds great book: I mark her courſe by contraries maintain'd, Whoſe harmony doth moſt ſubſiſt by ſtrife, And of all creatures in the ſame contain'd, How various is the myſtery of life? But as all things are ſubject unto change, Which partners are of th'elementall pow'rs, So (roll'd about with revolutions ſtrange) "The ſtate of man reſts conſtant ſcarce for houres. "Loe, what doth fame more frequently report, "Then ſudden riſings, and more ſudden falls? "I thinke the world is but a Teniſ-court, "Where Fortune doth play States, toſſe men for Balls. And never any age ſhow'd more then this, The wavering ſtate of ſoule-ennobled wights, Who ſoare too high to catch an aiery bliſſe, Whil'ſt loweſt falls attend the higheſt flights. That matchleſſe Monarch who was borne (it ſeem'd) To ſhew how high mortality attaines, Hath not from death th'adored fleſh redeem'd; But paine hath made an end of all his paines. And thoſe brave bands which furniſh'd Fame with breath, Whil'ſt all the world their valorous deeds did ſpie, Reſt now (confounded ſince their Soveraignes death) Like Polyphemus having loſt his eye. And they are like that teeth-ingendred brood, Which took their life out of a Monſter dead, Whil'ſt each of them would drinke the others bloud, Since that great Dragons death who was their head. "So change all things which ſubject are to ſight: "Diſorder order breeds, and order, it: "Next light comes darkneſſe, and next darkneſſe light, "This never-changing change tranſcends our wit. "Thus health and ſickneſſe, poverty and ſtate, "Diſhonour, honour, life and death, with doubt, "Still inter-changing (what a true deceit!) "All link'd together, ſlide by turnes about; "To worldly ſtates the heavens a height appoint, "Where, when they once arrive, they muſt deſcend, "And all perfections have a fatall point, "At which Excellency it ſelfe muſt end. "But as all thoſe who walke on th'earth, are croſs'd "With alterations, happ'ning oft, and ſtrange, "The greateſt States with greateſt ſtormes are toſs'd, "And (ſought of many) muſt make many a change. Nor ſpeake I this by ſpeculation mov'd, (As gathering credit out of ancient ſcroules) "No, I have liv'd at Court, and oft have prov'd "Nothing below more vex'd, then great mens Soules; "The Tyrant honours thralls, while as they mone, "Their plaints to vulgar eares loath to impart, "They all the weight of woes muſt beare alone, "Where others of their griefe lend friends apart. "Their verie riſing o're us to the height, "Which ſeemes their beſt is worſt, for, being Lords, "They never know the truth that comes to light, "When franke ſociety ſpeakes naked words. "Whilſt ſadneſſe oft ſeemes Majeſtie, Time tels "How deare they buy their pompe with loſſe of reſt: "Some but three furies faine in all the hels; "There are three thouſand in one great mans breſt.