Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	dead_a	life_n	see_v	3,001	5	3.9761	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A39563	Veni, vidi, vici the triumph of the most excellent & illustrious, Oliver Cromwell, &c., set forth in a panegyricke / written originally in Latine, and faithfully done into English heroicall verse, by T.M. ... ; whereunto is added an elegy upon the death of the late Lord Deputy of Ireland, the much lamented, Henry Ireton, &c.	Fisher, Payne, 1616-1693.; Manley, Thomas, 1628-1690.	1652 (1652)	Wing F1044; ESTC R948	33,535	138

defeat How did death triumph in the fields of Fife That cover'd were with bodyes voide of life It was a fell-black-day alas how there In various manners did grim death appear When Lesley fled well-hors'd through cross by-waies And among others whom our troops did seize As Captives was unhappy Brown who gave Himselfe to Lamberts armes his life to save Speak ye whose soules are slow and dull as lead Is ancient virtue or retir'd or dead If that Book speak the truth if we believe What 's written there or it as true receive Ye have been valiant when your Armies stood And Rhenes and Isters streams dy'd red with blood And when Count Tilly did affrighted stand To see the wonders acted by your hand All Germany look'd on you as the Fort Whereto the Dutch-men chiefly did resort Such was your honour then alas but now Where is that former vertue do you know Only to shew the Valour of your state Abroad and be at home degenerate Your spirits like your soyle are poore and dry At home your hearts are in a Lethargy Your Army else would not let us surprize Calenders fenced house before their eyes In so great danger they like Cowards stand Fearefull to lend their Mates a helping hand Thus Cromwell art thou Conquerour thus do Armies surrender up themselves to You. Thy conquering sword thousands of foes doth rule Whose habitation is the furthest Thule The valiant Scots and Picts that did let fly Their Ensignes through the lower Germany And those of other Lands that Conquerors be Magnanimous Cromwell are subdu'd by Thee Thou dost destroy the Caledonian Boare Sooner than Meleager could before Thou brok'st the bonds of tyrants now grown strong And kill'dst the Hydra while it yet was young Half-buri'd England while you were her Head Rais'd up her self again as from the Dead By thee regayning strength she rises free Wasted before by Scottish treachery What should I speak of more what words or wit Can such high darings with expressions fit Or how can my so mean endeavors raise Trophies to equall your deserved praise Be it enough since all my pains fall short To be amazed at the fam'd report Of your great actions and since all I write In these mean papers doth appeare too light Seeming to do no more when all is done Then hold a candle to the shining Sun Or adde a drop unto the Ocean After our Leader had triumphing got Into the Fisian region of the Scot When both Saint Johnstons and Burnt-I stand came And Torwood subjects to thy honoured name And other towns did of their own accord Yield up themselves and to our troops afford Shelter the half-dead Scots seeing affairs Thus to go backward falling in despair Suffering such woes in their polluted home Resolve from that accursed place to come In so great danger only hoping health Though much deceiv'd from th' English Common-wealth Such was the confidence and such the hopes Springing among the Caledonian troopes But that their hope was vain the cure was worse Then the disease and prov'd a greater curse Wretches ye headlong run changing the star Into the hazards of a sharper war So a poore Sayler tost from shore to shore When in a storm the winds and waters roare To whom no glimmering star yields any light No Cynosura to direct him right In that his unknown way being struck with feare Not knowing to what place his course to steere Stands void of sense and while he seeks to fly The ro●ks and barking Scylla to pass by And takes a care Synphlegades to shun Sad Fate doth make him on Charybdis run What reason pray had we to trust you so That you to England a new guest would go To take those dainties from us which you knew Not being cal'd were ne'r prepar'd for you Think'st thou the English look'd for thee once more That Presbyterian fancies did adore And on their slaved necks bore Calvins yoke Tell me ye mad men what did thus provoke Your minds to this beliefe that you should have From the discording English what you crave Vaine hope Caerdigan cannot helpe you now Nor are the Norfolke Rebels helpfull who Proud in their hopes of greater numbers grown By Rich's smaller force were overthrown Most honour'd Rich that dost advance thy fame And by thy vertues raise thy budding name Who after he had Norfolke quiet made And those seditions by his Sword allay'de He fals upon the Scots who once againe Invade us but he made their journey vaine That they might learne by such mischances sad Nought to the good is hard safe to the bad Keep back therefore the Fates have all decreed Ye must not Brethren pass the River Tweed The way that leads to England is beset With thorns and dismall shades of mountains great Unlucky Birds did your first March attend And will wait on you to the very end Poore greedy rout you the sole wretches are That closely nursed our first Civill warre Then wicked thou thy just reward wilt have And of a double tongue the losse receive When those Troops slain by us thou shalt bemoane And in thy losse and nearer ruine groane Oh! Nation base and treacherous what lyes Have you maintain'd as greatest verities Under a specious Vizor Oh what Sects And swarmes of Errors did your zeale protect Who can relate how wisely you did sow Such seeds of discord as you knew would grow When thus your policy had gain'd the day How on th' intangled English did you prey With thousands witcherafts you did them inchant Forcing at last a guilefull Covenant Could love of gold and like insatiate tricks Saint you and with us in our Border fix Was this your zeale your Covenant to rise More rich and full by Englands miseries Was this your care to Canaan that so Your Thistle might in our sweet Gardens grow And that your Tares might at the least oppose If not quite choke the growing of our Rose This was the Scots fully resolved scope They thought them sure of this their wretched hope But Heaven forbad the banes and with the eyes Of pity looking on our miseryes Turning the scale quite blasted all their hopes And in their Borders set our valiant Troops Could the blind zeale of Priests such ills perswade To quiet peace through Seas of blood to wade Or that the sword was a fit instrument Religion to establish with content O damned impious crew doth your Kirke teach Her Clerkes the very Gospell thus to preach What godliness is that with bloud and spoile And rage of War the Churches to defile Away and to your Countrey when you come This Doctrine may be fit to teach at home Let your mad Priests belch out these Tenets there Your Scottish Kirks such things as these may beare If in these lines you happily may meet Some barbarous names your pardons I entreat For I was forc'd to use them since but few Would well agree with such a cock-braine crew But whither doth this straying errorlead If I go