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Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	author_n	word_n	write_v	2,404	5	5.2650	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A13479	The nipping and snipping of abuses: or The woolgathering of vvitte With the Muses Taylor, brought from Parnassus by land, with a paire of oares wherein are aboue a hundred seuerall garments of diuers fashions, made by nature, without the helpe of art, and a proclamation from hell in the Deuils name, concerning the propogation, and excessiue vse of tobacco. By Iohn Taylor.	Taylor, John, 1580-1653.	1614 (1614)	STC 23779; ESTC S118233	39,316	104

fire Go on go on and we will still admire Thine Tho Bretnor To my honest friend Iohn Taylor THy Taylors sheares foule vices wings hath clipt The seames of impious dealings are vnript So Art-like thou these captoius times hast quipt As if in Hellicon thy pen were dipt All those who gainst thy worth are Enuious lipt Thy sharpe Satyrick Muse hath nipt and snipt And to conclude thy'nuention is not chipt Or stolne or borowd begd or basely gript Then Taylor thy conceits are truely sowde And Sculler on my word it was well rowde Thine to my best power Enoch Lynde To him I loue yet neuer knew TO praise thee without knowledge were dispraise I know thy Wit in that thy selfe I raise Thy ful fetcht-strokes so wafts me o're the Strand Of deepe Conceit as bids me vnderstands That neuer Taylor shapt for such small price A Robe so couert which uncouers Vice Thy true friend Iohn Handson In Landem Authoris MOst commonly one Taylor will dispraise Anothers workmanship enuying alwaies At him that 's better then himselfe reputed Though he himselfe be but a botcher bruted So might it well be said of me my friend Should I not to thy worke some few lines lend Which to make probable this sentence tendeth Who not commends he surely discommendeth In my illiterate censure these thy rimes Deserue applause euen in these worst of times When wit is onely worthy held in those On whom smooth flattery vaine praise bestowes But I not minding with thy worth to flatter Doe know thy wit to good too toyle by water Rob Taylor To my friend Iohn Taylor THis worke of thine thou hast compilde so well It merits better wits thy worth to tell Thine Maximilian Waad To my kind friend IOHN TAILOR FYe Momus cryes what franticke fit hath firde The Pelting Sculler thus to play the Poet As if he were with Homers spirit inspir'de Cease Critticke cease and I will let thee know it The honest Sculler seeking for a fare Did meete the Muses in an eu'ning late And finding them dispos'd to take the ayre Such sollace gaue them with his Rusticke prate As there in guerdon of his homebred sport It was decreed by all the Sisters nine He should receive since other meanes was short A brimfull bowle of Heliconian Wine Since when from him such sweet conceits doth flow As merits all the praise thou canst bestow Againe IOhn Taylor heere I gladly would commend thee And wish my note exceeded Ela's straine Or that my Verse could equali Virgils vaine Which might from Momus carping brood defend thee Yet as I can I will this Reader tell I know no Sculler euer writ so well Thy friend Richard Leigh To my true friend Iohn Tailor AMongst the best that Britaine now doth beare Grac'd by Apollo and the Nimphs diuine Swolne with the Raptures of their great Ingine I thinke that fewe or none to thee comes neere They want the tru-true tutch stone of the eare Besides thy makings all are meerely thine Thou stealst no Chore not Scene nor page nor line If they doe so their workes can witnesse beare Then iustly Iacke I doe thee most esteeme Nor art thou alwaies ignorant of Art For Nature so in thee doth play her part As prodigall not lib'rall shee doth seeme Whilest thou her Champion to thy greater grace Mak'st Art to Nature euen in Art giue place Thine as I liue Iohn Moraye The Authors thanks to all those that haue written in his Commendations RIght worthy and my welbeloued friends My loue and seruice shall be all your debters A Beggers thankes is all the best Amends And in that paiment you shall all be getters For words are cheape and this my Booke affoords Your owne with double intrest words for words Yours I. T. To all in generall on whose names I haue Anagrammatized MAiesticke Sol whose eye Eclipsing Raies Shine with admired splendor or'e this land And all you Mercuries of Mars his band Whose words and swords your temples crownes with baies Your pardons grant me if I haue transgrest If you forgiue I le deale with all the rest Euer at Command in all humble seruice Iohn Tailor The Authors description of a Poet and Poesie with an Apollogie in defence of Naturall English Poetrie SHall Beggers diue into the Acts of Kings Shall Nature speake of supernat'rall things Shall Egles flights atempted be by Gnatts Shall mighty Whales be portraied out by Sprate These things I know vnpossible to be And it is as vnpossible for me That am a begger in these Kingly acts Which from the Heau'ns true Poetry extracts A supernat'rall foole by Nature I That neuer knew this high borne mystery A worthlesse gnat I know my selfe more weake Yet of the Princely Egle dare to speake A silly sprat the Ocean seekes to sound To seeke this Whale though seeking he be drown'd Then to proceed a Poets Art I know Is not compact of earthly things below Nor is of any base substantiall mettle That in the worlds rotundity doth settle But t is immortall and it hath proceeding From whence diuinest soules haue all their breeding It is a blessing heau'n hath sent to men By men it is diuulged with their pen And by that propogation it is knowne And ouer all the world disperst and throwne In verball elocution so refinde That it to Vertue animates mans mindes The blessed singer of blest Israel In this rare Art he rarely did exell He sweetely Poetyz'd in Heau'nly verses Such lines which aye eternity rehearses What Reuerend rate and glorious great esteeme Augustus Caesar did a Poet deeme Admired Virgils life doth plainely show That all the world a Poets worth may know But leauing Israels King and Romane Caesar Let 's seeke in England English Poets treasure Sir Phillip Sidney his times Mars and Muse That word and sword so worthily could vse That spight of death his Glory liu's alwaies For Conquests and for Poesie crown'd with bayes What famous men liu's in this age of ours As if the Sisters nine had left their bowres With more post hast then expeditious wings They here haue found the Helliconian springs We of our mighty Monarch IAMES may boast Who in this heau'nly Art exceeds the most Where men may see the Muses wisdome well When such a Glorious house they chose to dwell The Preacher whose instructions doth afford The soules deere food the euerliuing word If Poets skill be banisht from his braine His preaching sometimes will be but too plaine Twixt Poetry and best Diuinity There is such neere and deere affinity As t' were propinquity of brothers blood That without tone the other 's not so good The man that takes in hand braue verse to write And in Diuinity hath no insight He may perhaps make smoothe and Art-like Rimes To please the humors of these idle times But name of Poet he shal neuer merrit Thogh writing them he waste his very spirit They therefore much mistake that seeme to say How euery one that writes a

THE NIPPING OR SNIPPING OF ABVSES OR The woolgathering of Witte With The Muses Taylor brought from Parnassus by land with a paire of Oares Wherein Are aboue a hundred seuerall Garments of diuers fashions made by Nature without the helpe of Art and A Proclamation from Hell in the Deuils name concerning the propogation and excessiue vse of Tobacco By IOHN TAYLOR Iudge not befere thou all doest ouer-looke And then if Nothing please thee burne the Booke LONDON Printed by Ed Griffin for Nathaniel Butter and are to be sold at the signe of the Pide-Bull neere Saint Austens-gate 1614. To the Sacred Maiesty of King IAMES To thee I dare not Dedicate my booke Yet humbly high my low inuention Ames That with thy Gracious view dread royal IAMES Thou wilt bee pleas'd my lines to ouer-looke A candle lights when Phoebus hath forsooke To guilde the day with vniuersall flames And glim'ring glances of the humed Thames Aspects and obiects to the sight haue strooke So mighty Soueraigne and most Learned King When sweete Arions Harpe Amphions Lute Are silent sleeping in their Cases mute Vouchsafe to heare thy Scullers Muse to singe And let Pans Pipe obtaine a little grace When Great Appolloes Harpe is out of place Your Maiesties Humble Seruant and onely water Poet. IOHN TAYLOR A Skeltonicall salutation to those that know how to read and not marre the sense with hacking or mis-construction THou true vnderstander my inuention doth wander with the quill of a Gander to shield me from slander to thy good protection I yeeld in subiection my poore imperfection with friendly correction and as thou dost like me or stroake me or strike me Reproue me or proue mee or mooue me or loue me or quite me or spight me friend me or mend mee or else not offend me If in ought that is written thy humors are bitten seem not to espy it and none will descry it But if thou dost kick the spurre sure will prick and if thou doe fling the waspe then will sting My verses are made to ride euery Iade but they are forbidden of Iades to be ridden they shall not be snaffeled nor braued nor bafflled weart thou George with thy Naggon that fought'st with the dragon or were you great Pōpey my verse should be thumpe ye if you like a Iauel against me dare cauill I doe not entend it as now to commend it or yet to defend it But to thee I doe send it to like it or mend it and when thou hast end it applaud it or rend it My wits I could bristle for a better Epistle but yet at this time this Skeltonicall Rime I send to thy veiw because it is new So Reader adue I thine if thou mine IOHN TAYLOR To the Author and his booke To the superlatiue Water-Poet Iohn Taylor NO Water-man or Sculler art thou none Nor need thou euer taste of Hellicon They all mistake thee Iacke full well I know Thy Heau'n bred braine could neuer stoope so low For vnto mee thou plainely doest appeare The lofty Plannet of the watry Spheare So that Apollo he himselfe can tell Thy influence giues water to his well Thy true friend Ia Moraye To the Castalian Water-writer Splende dignoscar A Diall set vpon an eminent place If clouds doe interuall Appolloes face Is but a figur'd shape whereby we knowe No article of Time which it doth owe Vnto our expectations yet we see The tractes by which Times should distinguish'd bee In paralelled punctual ciphered lines Which by a shadow when the faire sunne shines Explaines the houres So if the Sonne of men Thy Glorious Patron deeme to blesse thy pen With his faire light Thy Muse so young so faire So wel proportion'd in conceites so rare And Naturall straines and stile and eu'ry part That Nature therein doth exceed all Art Will then as with Enthusiasme inspir'd Print legends by the world to be admir'd Thine Iames Ratray Praecomium Iohannis Taylor WHat elementall sperms begot a sparke Of such conceited influence bearing the marke Of such digestion in his well knit rimes As if that Maro rebaptized our times With well proportion'd iudgement this thy note Distinction knowes not from a grauer cote Oh where are you stil'd by the happie names Of loues sole heires sleepes your immortall flames In their originall dulnesse see a good Borne in the veine of farre inferiour blood Taylor I haue tooke measure of thy paines Discharge my bill with loue and there 's my gaines Thine in the best of friendship Robert Anton. To his honest friend Iohn Taylor Poeta Nascitur I Oft with other men haue wondred why Horace should write an Art of Poetry Since all men know a Poets borne a Poet And no man 's borne an Artist all men know it And knowing this I wonder who should scorne A Poet without Art that so was borne Who thinks thy name or watry education Is to thy verses any derogation Is far deceiu'd in both for all men kno Taylors are makers Poets all are so Nor i' st thy education thee abuses T 'as brought thee vp a Taylor for the Muses I could Apollogize but thou hast don 't If Poets borne haue glory thou hast won't Thou hast describ'd the seuerall signes of Heauen Wherein the sunnes whole Progresse is made euen Thy Epigrams and Anagrams of late Are Philomels sweet notes let Parrats prate I dare compare thy Genius with some men That vaunt in Tempe's well t' haue dipt their pen For truly they do falsly steale translations And speake in our tongue things of other Nations Thy Oares and Sculls hath far out row'd their fames For thou hast row'd from Hellicon to Thames Let them vpbraide thee with a Scullers name And with that title thinke t' obscure thy fame They cannot Iack for Marriners at seas Take paines whilst passengers do sit at ease Thy owne true labour tugs thy verse a shore Though fooles in each mans boate will haue an Oare Thine whether thou wilt or no. Sa Iones To my friend by land and by water Iohn Taylor THese leaues kind Iohn are not to wrap vp drams That doe containe thy witty Epigrams Let worser Poems serue for such abuse Whilst thine shal be referude for better vse And let each Critick cauill what he can T is rarely written of a Water-man Thy friend assured Rob Branthwaite To the Muses Taylor or the Pegafian Sculler ONe Enuy saies th' art meerely naturall Another when it doth on fome Art fall In reading thee beleeues it not thine owne Neither detracts thee for the gift is knowne That 's cald a Poets to come with his birth But if this Enuy could make lesse thy worth The second ads to it by confessing art In that we know thine Thus where euery part Of Enuy is examind t is the end Of all that doe dispraise thee to commend Thy hearty friend Sa Cal. To his friend Iohn Taylor YOu that read Taylors verse commend the same If you haue wit or else subscribe your Name Thy