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	work_n	write_v	2,328	5	5.4134	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A30001	An essay on poetry; written by the Marquis of Normanby, and the same render'd into Latin by another hand. With several other poems, viz. An epistle to the Lord Chamberlain, on His Majesty's victory in Ireland; by the honourable Mr. Montague. An epistle to the honourable Mr. Montague, on His Majesty's voyage to Holland; by Mr. Stepny. An epistle to Monsieur Boileau; by Mr. Arwaker. A poem on the promotion of several eminent persons in church and state; by Mr. Tate. To which are added the following poems, never before in print, viz. An ode in memory of the late Queen; by a person of quality. A poem on the late horrid conspiracy; by Mr. Stepny; Essay on poetry. English and Latin.	Buckingham, John Sheffield, Duke of, 1648-1720 or 21.; Halifax, Charles Montagu, Earl of, 1661-1715. Epistle to the right Honourable Charles Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, Lord Chamberlain.; Stepney, George, 1663-1707. Epistle to Charles Montague Esq; on His Majesty's voyage to Holland.; Arwaker, Edmund, d. 1730. Epistle to Monsieur Boileau.; Tate, Nahum. Poem on the late promotion of several eminent persons in church and state.; Buckingham, John Sheffield, Duke of, 1648-1720 or 21. Ode in memory of her late Majesty Queen Mary.; Stepney, George, 1663-1707. On the late horrid conspiracy.	1697 (1697)	Wing B5338; Wing B5342; ESTC R213098	32,751	110

and Eloquence Nay more for they must look within to find Those secret Turns of Nature in the mind Without this part in vain would be the whole And but a Body all without a Soul All this together yet is but a part Of Dialogue that great and powerful Art Now almost lost which the old Grecians knew From whence the Romans fainter Copies drew Scarce comprehended since but by a few Plato and Lucian are the best Remains Of all the Wonders which this Art contains Yet to our selves we Justice must allow Shakespear and Fletcher are the Wonders now Consider them and read them o'er and o'er Go see them play'd then read them as before For tho in many things they grosly fail Over our Passions still they so prevail That our own Grief by theirs is rock'd asleep The Dull are forc'd to feel the wise to weep Their Beauties imitate avoid their Faults First on a Plot employ thy careful Thoughts Turn it with time a thousand several Ways This oft alone has given success to Plays Reject that vulgar Error which appears So fair of making perfect Characters There 's no such thing in Nature and you●ll draw A faultless Monster which the World ne●er saw Some Faults must be that his Misfortunes drew But such as may deserve Compassion too Besides the main Design composed with Art Each moving Scene must be a Plot apart Contrive each little turn mark every place As Painters first chalk out the future Face Yet be not fondly your own Slave for this But change hereafter what appears amiss Think not so much where shining Thoughts to place As what a Man would say in such a Case Neither in Comedy will this suffice The Player too must be before your Eyes And tho ' t●s Drudgery to stoop so low To him you must your utmost meaning show Expose no single Fop but lay the Load More equally and spread the Folly broad The other way is vulgar oft we see A Fool derided by as bad as he Hawks fly at nobler Game in this low way A very Owl may prove a Bird of Prey Ill Poets so will one poor Fop devour But to collect like Bees from every Flower Ingredients to compose that precious Juice Which serves the World for Pleasure and for use In spight of Faction this would Favour get But Falstaff seems unimitable yet Another Fault which often does befall Is when the Wit of some great Poet shall So overflow that is be none at all That all his Fools speak Sence as if possest And each by Inspiration breaks his Jest If once the Iustness of each part be lost Well we may laugh but at the Poets Cost That silly thing Men call Sheer-Wit avoid With which our Age so nauseously is cloy'd Humour is all Wit should be only brought To turn agreeably some proper Thought But since the Poets we of late have known Shine in no Dress so much as in their own The better by Example to convince Cast but a View on this wrong side of Sence First a Soliloquy is calmly made Where every Reason is exactly weigh'd Which once perform'd most opportunely comes A Hero frighted at the Noise of Drums For her sweet sake whom at first sight he loves And all in Metaphor his passion proves But some sad Accident tho yet unknown Parting this Pair to leave the Swain alone He streight grows jealous yet we know not why And to oblige his Rival needs will dye But first he makes a Speech wherein he tells The absent Nymph how much his Flame excels And yet bequeaths her generously now To that dear Rival whom he does not know Who streight appears but who can Fate withstand Too late alas to hold his hasty Hand That just has giv'n himself the cruel Stroke At which this very Strangers Heart is broke He more to his new Friend than Mistress kind Most sadly mourns at being left behind Of such a Death prefers the pleasing Charms To Love and living in a Lady's Arms. How shameful and what monstrous things are these And then they rail at those they cannot please Conclude us only partial for the Dead And grudge the Sign of old Ben. Iohnson's Head When the intrinsick Value of the Stage Can scarce be judg'd but by a following Age For Dances Flutes Italian Songs and Rhime May keep up sinking Nonsense for a time But that may fail which now so much o'er-rules And Sence no longer will submit to Fools By painful Steps we are at last got up Parnassus Hill on whose bright Airy Top The Epick Poets so divinely show And with just Pride behold the rest below Heroick Poems have a just pretence To be the utmost reach of human Sence A Work of such inestimable Wor●● There are but two the World has yet brought forth Homer and Virgil with what awful sound Do those meer words the Ears of Poets wound Just as a Changeling seems below the rest Of Men or rather is a two-legg'd Beast So these Gigantick Souls amaz'd we find As much above the rest of human kind Natures whole strength united endless Fame And universal Shouts attend their Name Read Homer once and you can read no more For all things else appear so dull and poor Verse will seem Prose yet often on him look And you will hardly need another Book Had Bossu never writ the World had still Like Indians view'd this wondrous Piece of Skill As something of Divine the Work admired Not hoped to be Instructed but Inspired But he disclosing sacred Mysteries Has shewn where all the mighty Magick lies Describ'd the Seeds and in what order sown That have to such a vast proportion grown Sure from some Angel he the Secret knew Who through this Labyrinth has given the Clue But what alas avails it poor Mankind To see this promised Land yet stay behind The Way is shewn but who has Strength to go Who can all Sciences exactly know Whose Fancy flies beyond weak Reason's Sight And yet has Iudgment to direct it right Whose just Discernment Virgil-like is such Never to say too little or too much Let such a Man begin without delay But he must do much more than I can say Must above Cowley nay and Milton too prevail Succeed where great Torquato and our greater Spencer fail The END AN EPISTLE TO THE Right Honourable CHARLES EARL of DORSET and MIDDLESEX Lord Chamberlain OF HIS Majesties Houshold Occasion'd by His Majesty's VICTORY in IRELAND LICENSED Sept. 26. The Second Edition Corrected LONDON Printed for Francis Saunders at the Blue Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange 1690. AN EPISTLE TO MY Lord Chamberlain WHat Shall the KING the Nations Genius raise And make us Rival our great Edward's Days Yet not one Muse worthy a Conq'ror's Name Attend his Triumphs and Record his Fame Oh Dorset You alone this Fault can mend The Muses Darling Confident and Friend The Poets are your Charge and if unfit You should be fin'd to furnish