Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	good_a	great_a	read_v	3,182	5	5.8148	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A19527	The poeticall essayes of Alexander Craige Scotobritane Seene and allowed.	Craig, Alexander, 1567?-1627.	1604 (1604)	STC 5958; ESTC S105268	18,837	46

hatefull vice and vertue of most worth Wise Plutarch writes in fertill Egipt grew With medicable enuenomd hearbes anew Doe no rebuke nor publique shame approue But friendly counsaile which proceedes from loue Be not a drunke Cambises in dispeire For counsell kind to kill Prexaspes heire 7 Take Turinus and smooke him to the death Who falsly sels for bribes thy royall breath 8 Though Alexander in a raging ire For praysing Philip his renouned Sire Kind Clitus kild be thou more meeke in minde And to the praysers of thy Parents kinde 9 Within thy heart let no iniustice hant Let not the wrong'd man weepe for iustice want Pansanias plaintes proud Philip did disdaine And cruelly for his contempt was slaine 10 A Woman old fell downe vpon her knee And cryed Demetr us heare my plaints and mee I haue no leasure answerd he againe Hee takes no leasure sayd the wife to reigne Doe not thine eares Demetrius-like obdure With patience heare the sad and plaintiue poore 11 Proud Leo spoyld Iustinian his croune Deform'd his face and cut his nose quite doune But when he got his Diadems againe He punisht those that erst procur'd his paine Each gut of rheume that from his nose did floe Gaue argument for to cut off a foe O do not thou great Prince delight in blood Of crueltie thou know's can come no good Be thou Licurgus though thou lackes ane ee Forgiue Alcander make him man to thee 13 Vitellius-like haue not a facill will Now to graunt grace and straight commaund to kill 13 Great are thy fortunes farre beyond beleife Thou needes no Realmes nor foraine rents by reife Thy minde may well luxuriat in thy wealth Thy Crown 's are thine but blood or strife or stealth And since thy fortunes are so rare O than Each day with Philip thinke thou art a man 14 Though Agathocles Sicil did enioy Yet was he sometime but a Potters Boy And that his pride should not become too great In vessels but of Loame he tooke his meate Thy witt 's the weird's with great promotion tryes For woonder few are happy both and wise Though thou be free from blast's of any storme Bee humill still and keepe thy wonted forme 15 Wreat not thy Law 's with blood as Draco did The God of heau'n such crueltie forbid A happie Life makes ay a happie end Be thou a Solon Dracois Law 's to mend 16 Herodotus the Histor and right so The Poet Pindars wreats with many mo That Monarch's great examples good should giue Since from their Lords the Laiks learne to liue Kinkes be the glas the verie fcoole the booke Where priuate men do learne and read and looke Be thou th'attractiue Adamant to all And let no wicked wrest thy wits to fall Goe not to Delphos where Apolio stands Licurgus-like with off'rings in thy hands By hellish votes and oracles to see What to thy Law should paird or eiked bee From great Iehouah counsaile seeke and hee Shall giue both Gnom's and Oracles to thee And shall thy spir't with prudence so inspire As all the world shall wonder and admire 17 From Countries farre great King behold and see With rich Oblations Legates come to thee With Vexores and Tanais be glaide Of fame and honour let it not be saide Thou art a greedie Ninus fie for shame That were a staine vnto thy Noble name 18 Last since thou art the child of Peace I see Thy workes and writes are witnes both with mee Thy workes I haue no leasure to vnfold And though I had are tedious to be told Thy Writes are wond'rous both in prose and ryme Let Vertue waxe and flourish in thy tyme Though thou be best and greatest both of Kinges Mongst Poets all is none so sweetely singes Thou art the sweete Musaeus of our dayes And I thy Prentice and must giue thee prayse Some other Writer must thy Woorth proclaime Thou shalt not sing vpon thy selfe for shame Thou hast transalpine Poets of thine owne Whose tragique Cothurus through the world are knowne Thou has likwise of home-bred Homers store Poore Craige shall be thy Cheryl and no more Since all my life suppose I Poetze I see seauin Philippeans must suffize Not that thou art not liberall at will No no wise Prince but caus my Verse are ill Yet since this furie is but lent to few Let vs not want thou shale haue Verse anew If these seeme pleasant I shall sing againe If not I will from being bold abstaine And cease to write but neuer cease to pray The God of heauen preserue thee night and day THE MOST VERTVOVS and accomplished Prince ANNA Queene of Britane Fraunce and Ireland Complaineth the absence of her Lord and Spous IAMES King of the foresayd Realmes WHere habit was dwels sad Priuation now And I am made an Orphane from delight To want the sweete fruition of thy sight In balefull bed my body when I bow Yea neither can I tell nor can ye trow How blacke alace and noysome is each night Nor yet how loathsome is this common light Since absence made diuorse twixt mee and you I am thy Phaebae thou my Phaebus faire I haue no light nor life but lent from thee Curst then be absence causer of my care Which makes so long this loath'd eclipse to bee What woonder I through lake of presence pine Worm's haue alace their Sunne and I want mine Scotlands Teares WHen fabling Aesop was at fatall Delphos tane And there by doome condem'd to be precipitat slane He like a woman weep't and tooke delight in teaires Cause they alleuiat and made lesse the conscience of his caires But Solon when he spi'd his deerest sonne was dead He weepd the more because his teaires to grief gaue no remead Yet neither he nor he by teaires could salue his ill Though of those salt and fruitles flouds impetuus spaits they spil Then maymed Scotland thou made Orphane from delight Whom all the hosts of heauens abhor with vndeseru'd despight With deeing Aesop mourne or wofull Solon weepe And tho as they thou weepe in vaine let not thy sorrow sleepe With frustrat Aesau shout curse life and wish to d ee Since Iacob with his mothers helpe thy blessing steals from thee Now riuall England brag for now and not till now Thou has compeld vnconquered harts sturdy necks to bow What neither wits nor wars nor force afore could frame Is now accomplisht by the death of thy Imperiall Dame Eliza faire is gone into the land of rest To that Elisium predecried and promis'd to the blest And England for her sake now weaires the sabill weede But Scotland if thou rightly looke thou has more cause indeede They for a Dian dead Apolloes beames enioy And all their straying steps allace our Titan dooth tonnoy Now dawn's their glorius day with Phoebus rayes bespred And we are but Cymmerian slaues with gloomy clouds ou'reled Rich neighbour nation then from thy complayning cease Not thou but we should sigh so