Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Nuce, ThomasPseudo-Seneca · published 1566 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T24: apollo, phoebus, midas, muses, ears, play, hedone, gods, siren, time.
NOw that Aurore with glittering streams, The gladding stars from sky doth chase, Sir Phoebus pert, with spouting beams, From dewy nest doth mount a pace: And with his cheerful looks doth yield, Unto the world a gladsome day. Go to, O wretch, with ample field Of heavy cares, oppressed aye, Thy grievous wont plaints recount: Do not alone with sighs and howls, The seaysh halcyons surmount, But also pass the Pandion fowls: More irksome is thy state than theirs. O mother dear, whose death by fits I nil lament, but still shed tears, My ground of grief in thee it sits. If that in shades of darksome den, Perceiving sense at all remain, Hear out at large, O Mother, then, My great complaints, and grievous pain. O that immortal Clotho wrist, Had torn in twain my vital thread: Ere I, unto my grief, had wist Thy wounds, and face of sanguine red. O day, which aye doth me annoy: Since that time, did I more desire, The fearful darkness to enjoy, Than Phoebus' fresh with fair attire. I have abode the bitter hest Of stepdame dire, in Mother's place, I have abode her cruel breast, Her stomach stout, and fight face. She, she for spite unto my case, A doleful, and a grave Eryn, To bridegrooms chamber spousal space, The Stygian flashing flames brought in. And thee, alas, most piteous sire, With traitorous trains hath she bereft Of breathing soul with poisoned mire: To whom ere while, the world all left Unvanquished from the Ocean Seas, By martial feats did freely yield: And didst subdue with wondrous ease, The Britain brutes that fled the field: Whom living at their proper sway, No Roman power did erst invade. Now lo (full well lament I may) Thy spouse deceit thy prows hath lad: And now thy court, and child of yore, With homage serve a Tyrant's lore. WHom so the glistering pomp of royal place, With sudden sight ynumd doth quite disgrace, Who so at courtly fleeting ebbing blaze, Astonished sore, himself doth much amaze: Lo see of late the great, and mighty stock, By lurking fortunes sudden forced knock, Of Claudius quite subvert and clean extinct: Tofore, who held the world in his precinct: The Britain Ocean coast that long was free, He ruled at will, and made it to agree Their Roman Galleys great for to embrace. Lo he that Tanais people first did chase, And Seas unknown to any Roman wight, With lusty shearing ships did overdight, And safe amid the savage freaks did fight, And ruffling surging Seas hath nothing dread, By cruel spouses guilt doth lie all dead. Her son likewise more fiend than Tiger fierce, Of natural Mother makes a funeral hearse. Whose Brother drenched deep, with poisoned cup Poor Britannic, his senseless soul gave up. Octavia sister, and unhappy make, Doth sore lament her case for Britanus sake:
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)
NOw that Aurore with glittering streames, The glading starres from skye doth chase, Sir Phoebus pert, with spouting beames, From dewye neast doth mount a pace: And with hys cheerefull lookes doth yéelde, Unto the worlde a gladsome daye. Go to, O wretch, with ample fielde Of heauy cares, oppressed aye, Thy grieuous wonted playntes recount: Doe not alone with syghes and howles, The seaysh Alcyones surmount, But also passe the Pandyon fowles: More irksome is thy state than theirs. O mother deare, whose death by fittes I nyl lament, but styll shedde teares, My grounde of griefe in thée it sittes. If that in shades of darksome denne, Perceyuing sense at all remayne, Heare out at large, O Mother, then, My great complayntes, and grieuous payne. O that immortall Clothos wrist, Had torne in twayne my vitall thredde: Ere I, vnto my griefe, had wist Thy woundes, and face of sanguine redde. O daye, which aye doth mée anoy: Since that tyme, did I more desire, The fearefull darkenesse to enioy, Than Phoebus freshe with faire attire. I haue abode the bitter hest Of stepdame dire, in Mothers place, I haue abode hir cruell brest, Hir stomake stout, and fighting face. She, she for spyte vnto my case, A dolefull, and a graue Eryn, To Bridegromes chamber spousall space, The Stygian flashing flames brought in. And thée, alas, most pitious syre, With traytrous traynes hath shée bereft Of breathing soule with poysoned myre: To whome ere whyle, the worlde all left Unvanquisht from the Ocean Seas, By martiall feates did fréely yelde: And didst subdue with wondrous ease, The Brittaine brutes that fled the felde: Whome liuing at theyr propre swaye, No Romaine power did erst inuade. Now lo (full well lament I may) Thy spouse deceyt thy prowes hath lade: And now thy court, and chylde of yore, With homage serue a Tyrants lore. WHom so the glistering pompe of royall place, With soden sight ynumd doth quite disgrace, Who so at courtly fléeting ebbing blase, Astonied sore, himselfe doth muche amase: Loe sée of late the great, and mighty stocke, By lurking fortunes sodaine forced knocke, Of Claudius quyte subuert and cleane extinct: Tofore, who helde the worlde in his precinct: The Britaine Ocean coaste that long was frée, He rulde at will, and made it to agrée Their Romaine Gallies great for to embrace. Lo he that Tanais people first did chase, And Seas vnknowne to any Romaine wight, With lusty sheering shippes did ouerdight, And safe amyd the sauage freakes did fight, And rufling surging Seas hath nothing dread, By cruell spouses gylt doth lye all dead. Hir sonne lykewise more fiende than Tygre fierce, Of naturall Mother makes a funerall herse. Whose Brother drenched déepe, with poysoned cup Poore Britannick, his senselesse soule gaue vp. Octauia syster, and vnhappy make, Doth sore lament hir case for Britanus sake: