Seneca, Lucius Annaeus / Nuce, ThomasPseudo-Seneca · published 1581 · first performed or written 1566 (Annals) tragedy unassigned nearest T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses · 483 words · other edition — not in the analysis
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 glading stars from sky doth chase, Sir Phoebus pert, with spouting beams, From dewy nest doth mount apace: 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 wonted plaints recount: Do not alone with sighs and howls, The Seaysh Aloyones surmount, But also pass the Pandion fowls: More irksome is thy state than theirs. O Mother dear whose death by fits, I nyll lament but still shed tears, My ground of grief in thee it sits. If that in shade of darksome den, Perceiving sense at all remain, Hear out at large, O mother then, My great complaints, and grievous pain O that immortal Clothos 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 fighting 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 lade: And now thy court and child of yore, With homage serve a tyrants 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 gilt 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 Britans 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 glitteryng ſtreames, The glading ſtarres from ſkye doth chaſe, Syr Phoebus pert, with ſpouting beames, From dewy neaſt doth mount apace: And with his cheerefull lookes doth yeeld, Vnto the world a gladſome day. Go to, O wretch, with ample Fielde Of heauy cares oppreſſed aye, Thy grieuous wonted playntes recount: Do not alone with ſighes and howles, The Seayſh Aloyones ſurmounte, But alſo paſſe the Pandyon foules: More yrkſome is thy ſtate then theirs▪ O Mother deare whoſe death by fits, I nyll lament but ſtill ſhed teares, My ground of griefe in thee it ſits. If that in ſhade of darkſome denne, Perceiuing ſence at al 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 thred: Ere I vnto my griefe had wiſt Thy woundes, and face of ſanguine red. O day which aye doth me annoy: Since that tyme did I more deſyre, The feareful darknes to enioy, Than Phoebus freſh with fayre attyre. I haue abode the bitter heſt Of ſtepdame dire, in mothers place, I haue abode her cruell breaſt, Hir ſtomake ſtout, and fighting face. She, Shee, for ſpyte vnto my caſe, A doleful, and a graue Eryn, To Bridegromes chamber ſpouſall ſpace, The Stygian flaſhing flames brought in. And thee, (alas) moſt piteous Syre, With traytrous traynes hath ſhee bereft Of breathing ſoule with poyſoned myre: To whom ere whyle, the world all left Vnvanquiſht from the Ocean Seas By martiall feats did freely yeeld: And didſt ſubdue with wondrous eaſe, The Brittayne brutes that fledde the fielde: Whom liuing at their propre ſwaye: No Romayne power did earſt inuade. Now lo (ful wel lament I may) Thy Spouſe deceypte thy prowes hath lade And now thy court and child of yore, With homage ſerue a Tyrantes lore. WHom ſo the gliſtering pompe of royal place, With ſoden ſight ynumd doth quite diſgrace, Who ſo at courtly fleeting ebbing blaſe, Aſtonied ſore, himſelfe doth much amaſe: Lo ſee of late the great and mighty ſtocke, By lurking Fortunes ſodayne forced knocke, Of Claudius quite ſubuert and cleane extinct: Tofore, who held the world in his precinct: The Brittayne Ocean coaſt that long was free, He ruld at wil, and made it to agree, Their Romaine Gallies great for to embrace. Lo, he that Tanais people firſt did chaſe, And Seas vnknowen to any Romayne wight With luſty ſheering ſhippes did ouerdight, And ſafe amid the ſauage freakes did fight, And ruffling ſurging ſeas hath nothing dread, By cruel ſpouſes gilt doth lye all dead. Her ſonne likewyſe more fiend then Tigre fierce, Of naturall mother makes a funerall her ſe, Whoſe brother drenched deepe with poyſoned cup. Pore Britannick, his ſenſeles ſoule gaue vp Octauia ſiſter and vnhappy make, Doth ſore lament her caſe for Britans ſake,