Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	call_v	church_n	time_n	2,817	5	3.2368	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A35277	Dæneids, or The noble labours of the great dean of Notre-Dame in Paris for the erecting in his quire a throne for his glory, and the eclipsing the pride of an imperious, usurping character, an heroique poem in four canto's, containing a true history, and shews the folly, foppery, luxury, laziness, pride, ambition, and contention of the Romanish clergy.	Crown, Mr. (John), 1640?-1712.	1692 (1692)	Wing C7382; ESTC R13930	14,879	38

due All things in order were for Dinner laid When the great Goddess her proud Entry made The exact order highly pleas'd her Eye She knew the Church by scrupulous decency In all the joys of Silence Ease and Pride And with a Breakfast strongly fortified The Dean attending Dinner slumb'ring lay When thus the Goddess drove his Rest away Wake quickly Dean said she or wake no more A Chanter haughtily usurps thy Power Shines in the Quire with thy Prelatique Grace And awes it with the same commanding Face All Bows of Singers are to him addrest All Congregations by his Mouth are blest He graces all the Saints High Solemn days When to oblige 'em he in person prays Shortly he 'll Youth Confirm and Priests Ordain And scarce to thee thy Rochet shall remain Renounce thy Prelacy or thy Repose Thy Fortune dooms thee one of 'em to lose This said she breaths into him through his Ear The Spirit of a common Barreter He wakes and yawns and with half-opened Eyes Gives the dire Fiend his Blessing as he flies Then like a raging Bull with Hornets stung Around the Chamber his Fat Body flung Chid Maids and Lacqueys why he did not know And before Dinner to the Quire will go But his wise Steward much allay'd his Rage By Councils Seasonable Calm and Sage What Fury's this said he has seiz'd your mind And hurries you to Church e're you ha' Din'd Oft have you left the work of saving Souls To sport some Hours at Tables Chess or Bowls But for the Church ne're Dinner left till now The Dresser-board is ready for the blow Your Cook now foams and so does your Pottage With your Judicious Palate to engage And if your Rost-meats you compel to stay Sir they will weep their Gravy all away Your Haut-gousts now most vigorous and strong Will sicken if in cold they tarry long And never be reviv'd by second heat Sir if you go you 'l Murder all your Meat It is not Lent say 't were it seems a waste Of Holiness in Holy Men to Fast Your Tongues and Pens support Church Rites and Laws What need y'engage your Bowels in the Cause Sure 't was the Churches Motherly intent Lent should keep Prelates and not Prelates Lent Religiously support your high degree Do not by toil debase your Dignity This said he wisely cover'd all the Cloth With Crowds of Dishes and a Tyde of Broth. Much on the pious Dean this Vision wrought His Cloth a while St. Peter's Sheet he thought A Treat let down from Heaven in a Dream Till his pleas'd Nostrils felt th' inviting Steam Then fiercely he applyed himself to eat Prov'd it was more than Visionary Meat Fast o're the Tongue he turn'd his Morsels all Like Morning Collects at a Festival Eat till he choak'd himself but not his wroth He champ'd his Words and Meat confus'dly both He skipt from Dish to Dish he knew not why No order minded nor sweet decency The Steward thought his Masters end was near He knew not Creatures which he lov'd so dear And in great sorrow was about to run To summon Friends but Fame that work had done They scatt'ring came like Troops of daunted Cranes When the proud Pigmy a recruit obtains The Visit rais'd the Prelate from Despair Chac'd from his Visage the late furious Air. So pleas'd he was with the respect they shew'd That he vouchsaf'd to rise nay more he bow'd Commanded the Westphalia-Ham again Fill'd Wine himself to honour the good Men Drunk first and deeply the Example pleas'd And streight a Flaggon of its load was eas'd He kindly mov'd 'em then to take a part Of what remain'd and of a fair desert The Table clear out burst his inward pain Dear Friends said he by whose support I Reign My self your charitable Work I own Which the proud Chanter thinks to tumble down At least by interposing in my Rights To make me useless and blind up my lights To him do all Church Officers repair At his command the Sexton Rings to Prayer Chapters are held at his usurping call What need of Deans if Chanters can do all But then Tears stopt the current of his talk His Loving Steward empower'd his Tongue to walk With chearful Wine when Boyrude bending low With heavy Age with trembling steps and slow Enter'd the Room The Church had us'd his pains In four successive Deans Illustrious Reigns None in Church Customs was so skill'd as he He was a living true Church History His knowledge rais'd him from a Sexton poor To the high Trust of all Church Garniture Great Office Robes are often half the Dean This Rules those Robes ordains 'em to be clean One in this Office half a Dean Ordains O're half a Dean as Dean he proudly Reigns He has in part an Arch-prelatique Power He 's of one Colledge parcel Visitour At first approach the Reverend Sage espics The Deans demolisht Pride and groveling Eyes Guessing the cause he smiling towards him mov'd And Father-like his Childish grief reprov'd For shame said he let the poor Chanter weep Your Rights and Empire study you to keep Hark to the Counsel Heaven does now inspire Where the proud Chanter over-looks the Quire With frowning arrogance some Ages past The Church was shaded with an Engine vast Desk Throne or Pulpit call it what you please At once it serv'd Devotion Pomp and Ease There Thron'd in Glory I have seen a Dean In Vestments Rich on Velvet Cushions lean prayer-Prayer-books Embost with Gold before him shone Which drew all Eyes upon 'em but his own A Worm stol'n from a Grave the Chanter seem'd Just visible enough to be contemn'd Time Fate or Fiends malicious Men or all For they 're all Foes to good conspir'd its fall Malicious Men we think by secret Art Gave it a Sickness in some Noble part That never visited nor minded well One Morn it yawn'd and down to Ruin fell And to its worth the ungrateful Quire unjust Laid it in dark forgetfulness and dust What honour'd once the Quire has now forlorn Lain thirty Winters languishing in scorn Three of us fit for such a great Affair Will Perewig'd in Nights dishevel'd Hair Steal to the Pulpit in its mournful Room And gloriously Reward its Martyrdom If once to murmur the proud Chanter dare The Wretch with Forty Biting Actions tear Since not in Learning be in Law Renown'd Shew a Church Spirit the whole Church confound Ere quit a Title of your sacred Right Let Laymen pray Prelates are known by Might Your Divine dazling Right dart at your Foe Then to the Church in all Church splendor go And there Brow-beat th' Usurper to the ground Then to out-brave him disperse Blessings round To blast his Pride and shew your self Supream Bless all the Congregation nay bless him The Counsel seem'd to admiration wise The Dean in Ravishments with lifted Eyes Heav'ns Inspiration most devoutly blest But straight a new Reflection struck his Breast I now have in the Quire a Seat said he Cloath'd with Rich