Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	author_n	name_n	write_v	3,545	5	5.5812	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A00825	Certain elegies, done by sundrie excellent wits With satyres and epigrames.; Satyres: and satyricall epigrams	Fitzgeffrey, Henry.; Beaumont, Francis, 1584-1616.; Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.; Hookes, Nathaniel, fl. 1618, attributed name.	1618 (1618)	STC 10945.3; ESTC S116819	27,046	152

to men that strooken are in age Talke what it is three children at one time Thus to haue drown'd and in their very prime Yea and doe learne to act the same so well That then old folks they better can it tell Inuention oft that passion vsde to faine In sorrow of it selfe but sleight and meane To make it seeme great that here shall not need For that this subiect doth so farre exceed All forc'd expression that what Poesie shal Happily thinke to grace it selfe withall Fals so below it that it rather borrowes Grace from their griefe then addeth to their sorrow For sad mischance thus in the losse of three To shew it selfe the vtmost it could be Also exacting by the selfe same Law The vtmost teares that sorrow had to draw All future times hath vtterly preuented Of a more losse or more to be lamented Whilest in fayre youth they liuely flourisht here To their kind Parents they were onely deare But being dead now euery one doth take Them for their owne aud doe like sorrow make As for their owne begot as they pretended Hope in the issue which should haue descended From them againe nor here doth end our sorrow But those of vs that shall be borne to morrow Still shall lament them and when times shall count To what vaste nomber passed yeares shall mount They from their death's shall duly reckon so As from the Deluge former vs'd to doe O cruell Humber guilty of their gore I nowe beleeue more then I did before The British story that thy name begunne Of kingly Humber an inuading Hunne By thee deuoured for t is likely thou With bloud wert christned bloud thirsty till now The Owse the Don that more siluer Trent To drowne these Sheffeilds as yee gaue consent Shall curse the time that ere you were infused Which haue your waters basely thus abused The groueling Boore yee hinder not to goe And at his pleasure firrie to and fro The very best part of whose soule and bloud Compar'd with theirs is viler then thy mud But wherefore paper doe I idely spend On these deafe waters to so little end And vp to starry heau'n doe I not looke In which as in an euerlasting Booke Our ends are written O let times reherse The 〈◊〉 losse in their sad anniuerse M. D. The Author in praise of his owne BOOKE COmmend my Selfe No! But my Booke I may And boldly blamelesse 't is Praise-worthy say How so The sencelesse Substance well may plead My Selfe I was not when the Booke I made Of his deare Friend the Author H. F. OF what is heere thou 'lt not haue any write Prayses that willing would and iustly might Permit me then For I le Praise what I see Deficient heere thy name FITZ-IEOFFERY Where English FITZ aright and I ha' done So rightly art thou called IEOFFERYES-Sonne Then adde time Age but to thy industry In thee againe will liue Old-IEOFFERY NATH GVRLYN The Author's Answer OF what is Heere I forbid any Write Praises Why Nothing Heere can merite it Yet I le Permit thee Thou l't but Praise my Name And that 's Deficient Then Praise not for shame Where do FITZ right Write place it to y e minde Stil rightly must FITZ IEOFFERYES come behind wrought French must turne English first strange wonders Olde be a new Borne The Sonne brought to naught HORAT De Arte Poeti NVnc satis est dixisse Ego mira poemata pango Occupet extremum scabies Anglicè sic NOw 't is inough to speake I wondrous Poemes make Then Diuell the hindmost take Satyra prima LIB 1. VVHo'd not at venture Write So many waies A man may proue a Poet now a daies Does Nature witt afford to breake a Ieft This is a Poet and his friends protest He is to blame he Writes not when indeed Th'Illiterate Gull can neither write nor read Let Nature faile Takes he but so much Paine To write obscurely adding so much Braine As end his crabbed sencelesse verse in Rime This might a Poet beene in Perseus time And more Though Horace in his book reherses Nature and Arte are both requir'd in Verses There are those of their Poetry will vaunt Which do God wot both Wit Learning want I know them Such as they at Table sit Each Iest you speake will to a Metre fit And thus your Witt 's sell for their priuate gaine And bee accounted Poets for their paine Others there are that Others workes suruay And must from all thinges some thing filtch away Who if to weaker Braines they can vnfolde A Learned Author nick a Phrase that 's olde Or change but one word in a line or two Straight all 's their owne they write who doubts it so When I wood scarce beleeu 't though they in fine To euery Verse subscribe By Ioue 't is mine Nor is't●inough they this in priuate show But these are Poets all the world must know T is strange to see what stretching is of Wits What spare of speech this plentious Presse begets Some if you keepe them company you 'l finde As choise to breake a Iest as to bteake winde And what 's the reason thinke ye Onely this All they can speak's too little for the Presse Where 't is not losse of Friend Life Libertie Shall cause them keepe a Iest in secrecy Others haue helpes when their Inuention faile Straight they begin abusiuely to raile Then out comes Whelps of the olde Dog for sport Shall barke at Great ones bite the meaner sort When the On-setters after all their paine For feare woo'd gladly call them in againe And these will Poets bee accounted too Because they Dare doe more then others doe Though they their Verses write a man may say As Clown's get Bastards and straight runne away Montanus needes will bee a Poet why Because the Muses on a Mountaine hy Inhabited Peto for that his Name Denotes him Poet in the Anagrame And Quaint Castilio since his Father dy'd Who many Volumes publish't and beside Diuers neglected Left vnto his Son Which dubbes him Poet by praescription True And Castilio will approued bee Or he will Print his Fathers Legacy And marke Crisippo but what shifts he 'l finde Ere he 'l bee counted once to come behinde In euery Booke he will bespeake afore The comming out roome for halfe a score Or a dozen Verses which he 'l hugely puffe With commendations of the Authors stuffe And in Hyperbolyes his Name extoll Yond Homer Virgill Ouide Iuuenall Vouching no better Volume ere was Writ And that himselfe hath had a Hand in it Oh this vaine Praise-Affecting Poetry Is a bewitching-itching Leoprosie That makes men Rub scrub rouz and touz their Braine Pump their Pates dry for Iests and all to gaine So much Report might serue to make them vaunt They are Applauded though of Ignorant They 'l snatch and scratch and scrape though nere so ill And rather smart then holde their fingers still Be there a Citty show or sight at Court Of

CERTAIN ELEGIES DONE BY SVNDRIE Excellent Wits WITH Satyres and Epigrames LONDON Printed by B A for Miles Partriche and are to be solde at his shoppe neare Saint Dunstons Church in Fleet-streete 1618. An Elegie by F. B. SO Madam may my verses pleasing be So may you laugh at them and not at me T is something to you I would gladly say But how to doe it cannot finde the way I would auoyde the common troden wayes To Ladyes vs'd which be or loue or prayse As for the first that little wit I haue Is not yet growne so neere vnto the graue But that I can by that dim-fading light Perceiue of what and vnto whom I write Let such as in a hopelesse witlesse rage Can sigh a quire and reade it to a page Such as can make ten Sonets ere they rest When each is but a a great blot at the best Such as can backes of bookes and windows fill With their too furious Diamond and Quill Such as are well resolued to end their dayes With a loude laughter blowne behind the Sea Such as are mortified that they can liue Laught at by all the world and yet forgiue Write loue to you I would not willingly Be pointed at in euery company As was that little Tayler who till death Was hote in loue with Queene Elizabeth And for my last in all my liuing dayes I neuer yet did liuing creature prayse In verse not prose and when I doe beginne I le picke some woman out as full of sinne As you are sull of vertue with a soule As blacke as yours is white a face as foule As yours is beautifull for it shall be Out of the rules of Physiognomie So farre that I doe feare I must displace The arte a little to let in the face It shall at least fower faces bee below The Diuels and her parched corpes shall show In hir loose skin as if some spirit she were Kept in a bagge by some great Coniurer Her breath shall be as horrible and vilde As euery word you speake is sweet and milde It shall be such a one as will not be Couered with any art or policie But let her take all waters fumes and drinke Shee shall make nothing but a dearer stinke She shall haue such a face and such a nose As will not stand in any thing but prose If I bestow my prayses vpon such T is Charity and I shall merite much My prayse will come to her like a full bowle Bestow'd at most need on a thirsty soule Where if I sing your praises in my ryme I loose my incke my paper and my time Adde nothing to your euer flowing store And tell you noughts but what you knew before Nor doe the vertuous minded which I sweare Madam I thinke you are delight to heare Their owne perfections into question brought But stoppe their eares at them for if I thought You tooke a pride to haue your vertues knowne Pardon me Madam I should thinke them none But if your braue thoughts which I must respect Aboue your glorious titles shall accept These harsh disordered lines I shall ere long Dresse vp your vertues new in a new song Yet far from all base prayse of flatterie Although I know what ere my verses be They will like the most seruile flatterie shew If I write truth and make my subiect you Fr. Beau An Elegie on the Lady Penelope Clifton By M. Dr. MVst I needes write who 's he that can refuse ' He wants a mind for her that hath no Muse The thought of her doth heau'nly rage inspire Next powerfull to those clouen tongues of fire Since I knew ought time neuer did allow Me stuffe fit for an Elegie till now When France and Englands Henries dy'de my quill Why I know not but it that while lay still T is more then greatnesse that my spirit must rayse To obserue custome I vse not to prayse Nor the least thought of mine yet ere depended On any one from whom she was descended That for their fauour I this way should wooe As some poore wretched thing perhaps may doe I gaine the end whereat I onely ayme If by my freedome I may giue her fame ● Walking then forth being newly vp from bed Oh Sir quoth one the Lady Clifron's dead When but that reason my sterne rage withstood My hand had sure beene guilty of his bloud If shee bee so must thy rude tongue confesse it And com'st thou too so coldly to expresse it Thou shoul'dst haue giuē a shrike to make me fear That might haue slain what euer had bin neer th● Thou should'st haue com'n like Time with thy scalp And in both hands thou should'st haue brought t● Casting vpon me such a dreadfull looke As seene a spirit or th'adst beene thunder stroo● And gazing on me so a little space Thou should'st haue shot thine eye-balls in my fa● Then falling at my feet thou should'st haue sayd Oh she is gone and Nature with her dead With this ill newes amaz'd by chance I past By that neere groue whereas both first and last I saw her not three months before she dy'd When though full summer gan to vaile her pride And that I saw men lead home ripened corn Besides aduis'd me well I durst haue sworne The lingring yeare the Autumne had reiourn'd And the fresh spring had beene againe return'd Her delicacie louelinesse and grace With such a summer brauery deckt the place But now alas it look'd forlorne and dead And where she stood the fading leaues were she Presenting so much sorrow to my sight Oh God thought I this is her Embleme right sure I thinke it cannot but bee thought That I to her by prouidence was brought ●or that the Fates foredooming she should dye Shew'd me this wondrous master-peece that I Should sing her Funerall that the world should know it That Heau'n did thinke her worthy of a Poet My hand is fatall nor doth Fortune doubt For what it writes not fire shall ere raze out A thousand silken puppets should haue dy'de And in their fulsome coffins putrifide Ere in my lines you of their names should heare Or in the world tell such there euer were Whose memory shall from the earth decay Before those ragges be worne they gaue away Had I her godlike features neuer seene Poore slight report had told me she had beene A handsome Lady comely very well And so might I haue liu'd an Infidell As many doe which did her neuer see Or cannot credite what shee was by me Nature her selfe that before Art prefers To goe beyond all our Cosmographers By Charts and Mappes exactly that haue showne All of this earth that euer could be known For that shee would aboue them all descrie What art could not by any mortall eye A mappe of heauen in her rare features drue And that she did so liuely and so true That any soule but seeing it might sweare That all was perfect heauenly that was there If euer any painter were so

worthy Author vpon these Epigrams LEt me not whilst I praise an Epigram Deserue a Satyre Let not me who am As nice in praising as dispraisi●g still Commend your worke as trading Poets will For then I might praise Bookes I neuer read Bookes sencelesse at least not Interpreted And sweare I know them good Thus many doe Commend and yet maintaine their credits too● Which my poore Innocence hath much admir'd Till I perceiu'd these Poets who are hir'd In all respects are Shop-keepers And they Grow Bankroupts if forsworne but once a day So these in wit grow beggerly whose sloath Hath nothing but a Wager or an Oath To proue their owne or other mens desert And did not my per-vsall now conuert My Iudgement to consider what I praise I might as they approue and many wayes Recant hereafter But I giue them leaue To Write vpon me when they shall perceiue Such scorn'd Inconstancie and if they please To doo 't in Epigrams Let them first learne These Which if they can learne they may truely boast They haue aduantage gotten with the most IO STEPHENS THE Third Booke of Humours Intituled Notes from BLACK-FRYERS Epigram To his Lou Chamber-Fellow and nearest Friend NAT GVRLIN Of Lincolnes-Inne Gent. NAT Counsaile me I faith what wod'st haue me doe My priuate Notes produce in publique view Tush mooue me not yet doubtles t is rare stuffe And may Take why not if so Good inough How ere Nat Patronize it thou canst tell If ought mislike I meant and wish all well Then Good or Bad heer Sirs on liking take it If Good 't is I If Bad 't is you that make it Notes from Black-Fryers WHat friend Philemo let me thy corpes Imbrace So jumpe met in this vnfrequented place Then faith ' lets Frolique't pre'thee what 's y e Play The first I visited this twelue monthes day They say A new Inuented Toy of Purle That ieoparded his Necke to steale a Girle Of 12 And lying fast impounded for 't Hath hither sent his Beard to Act his part Against all those in open Malice bent That would not freely to the Theft consent Faines all to 's wish and in the Epilogue Goes out applauded for a famous Now hang me if I did not looke at first For some such stuffe by the fond peoples thrust Then stay I le see 't and sit it out what ere Had I at comming forth tooke a G●ister Had Fate fore-read me in a Croude to dye To bee made Adder-deafe with P●ppin-crye Come● let 's bethink our selue● what may be found To deceiue Time with till the second sound Out with these matches fore-runners of Smoake This Indian pastime I could neuer brooke SEe Captaine Martio he i th' Renounce me Band That in the middle Region doth stand Woth ' reputation steele Faith le ts remoue Into his Ranke if such discourse you Loue Hee 'l tell of Basilisks Trenches Retires● Of Pallizadoes Parepets Frontires Of Caluerins and Baricadoes too What to bee Harquebazerd to lye in Perdue How many men a Souldier ought to slay For a Lieutenant-ship or Twelue month Pay Hee 'l read a Lecture by his skill exceeding Of Reputation when it lyes a Bleeding When Titcht when Ingaged when quite Dead How none may euer Fight once Baffled What satisfaction for the Lye and when Quarrels are mortall when Seconds may come in Then of the Nether-lands what Passes there What stout Performances wherein hee 'l sweare As many weekely fall but for the Lye As did in hottest time of Sicknesse dye Last for his Manhood how in furie crost For a false reckoning once he slew his Host. And late in England since his comming o're Into the Channell flung an Oyster-whore For taking th'wall of him seeme but to doubt The least of these straight he will plucke ye out Handfuls of Reputation gain'd of those That dared not his Valour counterpose But wronging him and call'd to account for 't In Satisfaction from their Hands woo'd part Which he puts vp and gloriously puts forth In Ordinaries to proclaime his worth Thinking to get what common sence denyes Credit by Pocketting vp Iniuryes Then Learne of him he 'l teach you how yee might Be counted Valiant and neuer Fight LOok next to him too One we both know well Sir Iland Hunt a Trauailer that will tell Of stranger Things then Tatterd Tom ere li't of Then Pliny or Heroditus e're writ of How he a remnant lately brought with him Of Iacobs Ladder from Ierusalem At the Barmodies how the Fishes fly Of Lands inriched by a Lottery Of Affricke AEgypt with strange Monsters fild Such as nere Noahs Arke nere Eden held And rarer Rarities then all of these Iust now to bee discouered if yee please Such as woo'd make a Blind-man fond to see Conuicted Gallants loose their hopes and flie Most younger Brothers sell their Lands to buy Guyanian Plumes like Icarus to fly BVt stay see heere but newly Entred A Cheapside Dame by th'Tittle on her head Plot Villain plot Let 's lay our heads together We may deuise perchance to get her hither If wee to-gether cunniningly compact Shee 'l holde vs dooing till the Latter Act. And on my life Inuite vs Supper home Wee 'l thrust hard for it but wee 'l finde her rome Heer Mis pox on t she 's past she 'l not come ore Sure shee 's bespoken for a box before KNowest thou yo● world of fashions now comes in In Turkie colours carued to the skin Mounted Pelonianly vntill hee reeles That scornes so much plaine dealing at his heeles His Boote speakes Spanish to his Scottish Spurres His Sute cut Frenchly round bestucke with Burres Pure Holland is his Shirt which proudly faire Seemes to out-face his Doublet euery where His Haire like to your Moor's or Irish Lockes His chiefest Dyet Indian minced Dockes What Countrey may-game might wee this suppose Sure one woo'd thinke a Roman by his Nose No! In his Habite better vnderstand Hee is of England by his Yellow Band. NOw Mars defend vs seest thou who comes yonder Monstrous A Woman of the masculine Gender Looke thou mayst well descry her by her groath Out point not man Least wee be beaten both Eye her a little marke but where shee 'l goe Now by this hand into the Gallants Roe Let her alone What ere she giues to stand Shee 'l make her selfe a gayner By the Hand WHat think'st thou of yon plumed Dandebrat Yon Ladyes Shittle-cocke Egyptian Rat Yon Musk-ball Milke-sop yon French Sincopace That Vshers in with a Coranto grace Yon Gilded March-pane yon All Verdingall This is the Puppet which the Ladyes all Send for of purpose and solicite so To daunce with them Pray Sir a step or two A Galliard or a I●gg Pox on t cryes hee That ere I knew this Toyling fa●ulty Yet marke No sooner shall the Cornets blow But ye shall haue him skipping too and fro A Stoole and Cushion Enter Tissue slop Vengeance I know him well did he not drop Out of the Tyring-house