quadgram

This is a table of type quadgram and their frequencies. Use it to search & browse the list to learn more about your study carrel.

quadgram frequency
garcilasso de la vega14
that ye should flow11
meet that ye should11
the duke of alva9
francisco de la torre8
on the death of7
at the same time7
in gentleness of woe6
the works of garcilasso6
for the most part5
of the order of5
the poets of the5
from time to time5
the death of garcilasso5
one of the most5
in the time of5
under the title of5
was the first that4
the flower of gnido4
at the head of4
to the flower of4
coplas de arte mayor4
in the first place4
is said to have4
the order of st4
of garcilasso de la4
the middle of the4
the character of the3
the marques de santillana3
don pedro lasso was3
i sit down to3
under the command of3
under the name of3
don pedro de toledo3
of the poets of3
don pedro and his3
devotion to the muses3
of francisco de la3
the verses which he3
so many and such3
the poets of spain3
to the duke of3
of the language and3
chronicle of alonzo the3
when we see that3
from the nature of3
in which he lived3
in favour of the3
to the sound of3
of one of the3
of alonzo the eleventh3
the lyric poetry of3
of the sixteenth century3
rudeness of the language3
maria de la cueva3
it seems to me3
essay on spanish poetry3
the words ave maria3
as that of the3
that i should die3
the king of navarre3
serve to show the3
would they not have3
the title of the3
with the spirit of3
of lope de vega3
the chronicle of alonzo3
may serve to show3
the city of toledo3
he was obliged to3
in the manner of2
the springs of his2
in the chronicle of2
whilst youth bloomed rosiest2
in the course of2
they then this a2
in the history of2
i reach towards a2
of the last century2
him to imitate his2
of the great writers2
the spirit of a2
the absence of the2
cross of the order2
in the memory of2
in the reign of2
desire to see what2
whom hast thou so2
lily and purpureal rose2
which led him to2
torture of a jealous2
have snapt in twain2
his translation of the2
of good taste in2
fair naiads of the2
i feel that i2
last third division of2
that death had cropt2
of some of his2
i know not what2
and see how from2
passion for his lady2
would be difficult to2
of passion for his2
am wax to thy2
hopes thy heaven of2
a disgrace to our2
throes the arms of2
to a crowd of2
the death of his2
on the banks of2
beloved youth sounds thy2
valley in a sandy2
it was not possible2
hang its curling tendrils2
utter forgetfulness of all2
thy hands i come2
the battle of lepanto2
the torture of a2
to be met with2
in the midst of2
awhile my hopes will2
the odes of horace2
by the king in2
the spirit of the2
be considered as a2
sighs its sweet life2
prince of castilian poets2
would have been the2
bosom so untrue to2
scarce one pause from2
from that illumined face2
in the british museum2
the cross of the2
presses now thy laughing2
with the title of2
her in her sweetest2
coplas with which the2
he is the one2
if lamentations and complaints2
with scarce one pause2
lasso de la vega2
have known that the2
has abandoned himself to2
the versification and language2
king that held his2
life away amidst the2
rugged ways i reach2
a white swan that2
words of one who2
a heart of stone2
had recourse to the2
death had cropt her2
to the approaching cortes2
the urn of tormes2
a knight was seen2
in his hand a2
printed by james moyes2
another wall or prosperous2
has given to the2
has lost so much2
the age in which2
entering a valley in2
thou so rudely left2
the monarch of castile2
which at that time2
of his verses is2
the lady maria de2
of fancy and talent2
him the surname of2
thy face is written2
it would appear that2
and the whole was2
curling tendrils and empurpled2
away amidst the reeds2
take root against another2
one or two that2
lady whom he loved2
my tongue goes as2
establishment of good taste2
am well aware that2
this kind of poetry2
me in seasons of2
anchors thy broken faith2
vine around another elm2
an infinite number of2
at a distance from2
thee i have been2
spirit and insulting mien2
by the novelty and2
all with dishevelled hair2
to the present day2
the composition of his2
for ever bathed in2
of the principles of2
held his sire in2
now taking up the2
had cropt her in2
he it was who2
goes as grief guides2
was entrusted with the2
one pause from bloody2
will tower aloft in2
path i journeyed led2
sit down to contemplate2
had no power to2
of a country life2
was conceived in train2
was in the year2
the truth of the2
view my darling ivy2
a disciple of the2
for the defence of2
virgin vine around another2
character of the times2
maid of honour to2
now the countries of2
in anger and disdain2
of the fifteenth century2
of the first rank2
pay the price of2
pause from bloody toil2
to the lady maria2
but no sooner had2
by any chance be2
very distant from the2
the judgment and good2
hoarse trumpet breaks the2
wish to make my2
of a fierce spirit2
i these moments stolen2
my hopes will tower2
guerras civiles de granada2
past now the countries2
the frenzy of the2
by the count de2
hopes will tower aloft2
from morn till night2
of thy two white2
may be said that2
in this situation of2
i wish to make2
the city of milan2
in order to restrain2
and a few others2
in the court of2
reach towards a bourn2
the rudeness of the2
is a disgrace to2
of what beloved youth2
now thy laughing lip2
tendrils and empurpled fruit2
between these verses and2
and maid of honour2
have not yet a2
praise of little women2
have i these moments2
triumphs in the theft2
i have snapt in2
of his diction and2
hair were seen to2
swains of the tagus2
like a white swan2
and propriety with which2
once more from the2
ways i reach towards2
of surrey and wyatt2
born of one of2
the language and poetry2
state hast thou reduced2
bloomed rosiest in her2
in my griefs sole2
whom revolvest thou thy2
icy throes the arms2
accession to the crown2
count they then this2
that he has left2
that held his sire2
be met with in2
the path i journeyed2
middle of the last2
a bosom so untrue2
and hopes thy heaven2
epitaph on his brother2
keen desire to see2
afterwards the celebrated duke2
the surname de la2
must we pass over2
fernando alvarez de toledo2
down to contemplate my2
de arte mayor of2
was the hour when2
i wish to reach2
at the foot of2
the whole world with2
in the other world2
at the end of2
fierce spirit and insulting2
the emperor charles the2
the merit of the2
this situation of things2
so much delicacy and2
on the green turf2
in the church of2
he has abandoned himself2
till the appearance of2
age in which he2
filled with the spoils2
it should not be2
a great number of2
what the fine swell2
spirit was conceived in2
the countries of the2
not to mark the2
it is absolutely necessary2
his sire in bondage2
beauty did bespeak that2
the marchioness of padula2
the arms of daphne2
to thy sweet will2
but night and day2
on the other hand2
and if he be2
to contemplate my case2
that i have snapt2
higher kinds of composition2
am for ever bathed2
be displeased to see2
of the rights and2
the charmed ear of2
with magic of their2
it is not possible2
a discovery of the2
it is true that2
the example of lope2
with all my heart2
and now the pen2
taking up the sword2
the choice of his2
bespeak that death had2
youth bloomed rosiest in2
of the cid and2
of the most distinguished2
wise and potent king2
for thy sweet sake2
whose beauty did bespeak2
who has lost so2
on its flowery shore2
lay amongst the green2
rosiest in her charming2
leonora de la vega2
with so much delicacy2
loud blew the winds2
the good poets of2
given the name of2
whose sick infant lies2
it was not till2
it will not be2
seen to shower tears2
his devotion to the2
revolvest thou thy beautiful2
tower aloft in air2
hast thou so rudely2
of the language had2
the art from the2
me too fatal found2
with which the book2
the steps of the2
in the highest degree2
the marquis del vasto2
naiads of the river2
they may serve to2
not yet a bosom2
the rigour of the2
and it is a2
the higher kinds of2
as a specimen of2
its curling tendrils and2
to the marchioness of2
from lip to lip2
to see my virgin2
sweet life away amidst2
the siege of granada2
countries of the midland2
see my virgin vine2
of the most celebrated2
to whom it is2
the church of san2
youth sounds thy sweet2
at length into thy2
to the harmony and2
in a short time2
one and the other2
night and day they2
face is written in2
in his second eclogue2
pass from lip to2
was the case with2
poets of the sixteenth2
by rugged ways i2
the bottom of the2
which the versification and2
serve as a specimen2
no less than the2
to have been a2
the product of a2
the greater part of2
shuttle of the fates2
the writer is not2
the words of one2
i am for ever2
as grief guides it2
length into thy hands2
it is that has2
the breaches of the2
in a sandy waste2
as a punishment for2
geronyma palova de almogavar2
i am inclined to2
ever bathed in tears2
to all sorts of2
up by the roots2
the foot of mount2
in the presence of2
truth of the story2
the delegates from toledo2
for whom hast thou2
i journeyed led me2
written in my soul2
with the poets of2
may serve as a2
thy two white arms2
nor a heart of2
of his success in2
the prince of castilian2
hast thou reduced my2
the one and the2
the last third division2
which they gave to2
my spirit was conceived2
as a fond mother2
the lofty column lies2
if i am wax2
other kinds of composition2
wall or prosperous pine2
the cause of this2
of don pedro lasso2
emperor charles the fifth2
he is at least2
a fierce spirit and2
and in a short2
my griefs sole agent2
amongst the green herbs2
winds in anger and2
diego hurtado de mendoza2
and complaints could rein2
earth the lofty column2
both the one and2
so rudely left my2
more determinate and fixed2
to restrain this mad2
to whom the french2
the loss of life2
and potent king that2
she lay amongst the2
the citizens of toledo2
in marriage hang its2
of a jealous pang2
its sweet life away2
order to restrain this2
i am well aware2
by the duke of2
with which he was2
luis de la cueva2
the history of spanish2
the events of the2
i have lost my2
i am wax to2
progress of passion for2
is written in my2
strange icy throes the2
a grief so deep2
touch the ear of2
at that time was2
have conceded to him2
for this act of2
rudely left my love2
said to have been2
church of san pedro2
thou thy beautiful blue2
into thy hands i2
the end of the2
works of garcilasso de2
with dishevelled hair were2
necessary for him to2
with more or less2
this a great offence2
lamentations and complaints could2
he who has lost2
who triumphs in the2
potent king that held2
the poetry of francisco2
from the city of2
celebrated duke of alva2
another elm in marriage2
arms of daphne bind2
in the charmed ear2
the flowers with which2
he has left are2
to the loss of2
herrera was the first2
of the midland main2
truth anchors thy broken2
if i live on2
of the odes of2
to what a state2
journeyed led me right2
the gonfalon of mars2
surname de la vega2
dishevelled hair were seen2
they knew how to2
lady maria de la2
distinguish them from prose2
in such a manner2
without the torture of2
by the study of2
account of the life2
in the palace with2
there is no doubt2
wax to thy sweet2
foot of mount etna2
from garcilasso to the2
root against another wall2
how was it possible2
the nature of their2
the marquis de mondejar2
blew the winds in2
the esteem and affection2
prostrate on earth the2
so much the more2
this would have been2
lady geronyma palova de2
thy heaven of charms2
he is said to2
to see what the2
to view my darling2
near the still water2
strongly are the cruel2
of the dukes of2
the celebrated duke of2
i know not how2
floating in my brain2
a valley in a2
a state hast thou2
marriage hang its curling2
a wise and potent2
las guerras civiles de2
of so great a2
there are in them2
to the father of2
with the loss of2
thinking the path i2
will suffice for our2
the hours of heat2
the manner in which2
the lily and purpureal2
what beloved youth sounds2
restrain this mad desire2
been one of the2
then this a great2
if we except some2
on earth the lofty2
combination of rhymes in2
were seen to shower2
so strongly are the2
who would have said2
the progress of passion2
pedro and his companions2
charmed ear of what2
upraise your rosy heads2
and the fire of2
the cruel winds combined2
the noon of night2
in her charming cheek2
my virgin vine around2
by me too fatal2
on whom revolvest thou2
the images and emotions2
with the weight of2
the head of these2
be compared with the2
cropt her in her2
written with so much2
by the same author2
and of good taste2
when i sit down2
in the choice of2
a thousand times she2
in the fantastic pirouette2
count of los arcos2
in the steps of2
within my spirit was2
is full of the2
on his way to2
through the crystal air2
there is scarcely one2
what a state hast2
of the spanish poets2
see what the fine2
feel that i must2
genius of the language2
i have not yet2
the sceptre of the2
yet a bosom so2
did bespeak that death2
with keen desire to2
sounds thy sweet voice2
to don pedro de2
thy beautiful blue eyes2
towards the end of2
to have been written2
the imagination and the2
translation of the aminta2
the exercises of the2
elm in marriage hang2
in her sweetest flower2
the lady geronyma palova2
it may be said2
poetry of francisco de2
but it is a2
it may not be2
sickening where it feeds2
one of the noblest2
are the cruel winds2
in english spenserian verse2
tongue goes as grief2
the winds in anger2
around another elm in2
in my brain delight2
ear of what beloved2
on the merit of2
the movement of the2
who presses now thy2
that floating in my2
verses on the death2
against another wall or2
hand in hand with2
of ferdinand and isabella2
confirmed by the praises2