Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	great_a	know_v	time_n	2,755	5	3.2913	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A34826	A poem on the late civil war by Mr. Abraham Cowley.	Cowley, Abraham, 1618-1667.	1679 (1679)	Wing C6679; ESTC R18756	9,764	37

Pursue no more ye Noble Victors stay Least too much Conquest lose so brave a day For still the Battail sounds behind and Fate Will not give all but sets us here a Rate Too dear a rate she sets and we must pay One honest Man for ten such Knaves as they Streams of Black tainted Blood the Field besmear But pure well coloured drops shine here and there They scorn to mix with flouds of baser veines Just as the nobler moisture Oyl disdains Thus fearless Lindsey thus bold Aubigny Amid'st the Corps of slaughtered Rebels lie More honourably then e'r was found With troops of living Traytors circled round Rest valiant Souls in peace ye sacred pair And all whose Deaths attended on you there You 'r kindly welcomed to Heavens peaceful coast By all the reverend Martyrs Noble Host. Your soaring Souls they meet with triumph all Led by great Stephen their old General Go now prefer thy flourishing State Above those murdered Heroes doleful fate Enjoy that life which thou durst basely save And thought'st a Saw-pit nobler than a Grave Thus many saved themselves and Night the rest Night that agrees with their dark Actions best A dismal shade did Heavens sad Face o'r flow Dark as the night slain Rebels found below No gentle Stars their chearful Glories rear'd Ashamed they were at what was done and fear'd Least wicked Men their bold excuse should frame From some strange Influence and so vail their shame To Duty thus Order and Law incline They who ne'r Err from one eternal Line As just the Ruin of these Men they thought As Sisera's was 'gainst whom themselves had fought Still they Rebellions ends remember well Since Lucifer the Great their shining Captain fell For this the Bells they ring and not in vain Well might they all ring out for thousands slain For this the Bonefires their glad Lightness spread When Funeral Flames might more befit their dead For this with solemn thanks they tire their God And whilst they feel it mock th' Almighties Rod. They proudly now abuse his Justice more Than his long Mercies they abu'sd before Yet these the Men that true Religion boast The Pure and Holy Holy Holy Host What great reward for so much Zeal is given Heaven Why Heaven has thank'd them since as they thank'd Witness thou Brainford say thou Ancient Town How many in thy Streets fell grovelling down Witness the Red Coats weltering in their Gore And died anew into the Name they bore Witness their Men blowed up into the Air All Elements their Ruins joyed to share In the wide Air quick Flames their Bodies tore Then drown'd in Waves thei 'r tost by Waves to shore Witness thou Thames thou wast amazed to see Men madly run to save themselves in thee In vain for Rebels Lives thou woulst not save And down they sunk beneath thy conquering Wave Good reverend Thames the best beloved of all Those noble Blood that meet at Neptune's Hall London's proud Towers which do thy Head adorn Are not thy Glory now but Grief and Scorn Thou grievest to see the White named Palace shine Without the Beams of it's own Lord and thine Thy Lord which is to all as good and free As thou kind Flood to thine own Banks can be How does thy peaceful Back disdain to bear The Rebels busie Pride at Westminster Thou who thy self doest without murmuring pay Eternal Tribute to thy Prince the Sea To Oxford next Great Charles in Triumph came Oxford the British Muses second Fame Here Learning with some State and Reverence looks And dwells in Buildings lasting as her Books Both now Eternal but they had Ashes been Had these Religious Vandals once got in Not Bodley's Noble Work their Rage would spare For Books they know the chief Malignants are In vain they silence every Age before For Pens of Time to come will wound them more The Temples decent Wealth and modest State Had suffered this their Avarice that their Hate Beggary and Scorn into the Church they 'd bring And make God Glorious as they made the King O happy Town that to Lov'd Charles's Sight In those sad Times givest Safety and Delight The Fate which Civil War it self doth bless Scarce wouldst thou change for Peace this happiness Amidst all the Joys which Heaven allows thee here Think on thy Sister and then shed a tear What Fights did this sad Winter see each day Her Winds and Storms came not so thick as they Yet naught these far lost Rebels could recall Not Marlborough's nor Cirencester's fall Yet still for Peace the gentle Conqueror sues By his Wrath they Perish yet his Love refuse Nor yet is the plain Lesson understood Writ by kind Heaven in B and H's Blood Chad and his Church saw where their Enemy lay And with just Red new marked their Holy day Fond Men this Blow the injured Crosier strook Naught was more fit to perish but thy Book Such fatal Vengeance did wronged Charlegrove shew Where both begun and ended to His cursed Rebellion where his Soul 's repaid With separation great as that he made Whose Spirit moved o'r this mighty Frame O' th Brittish Isle and out this Chaos came The Man that taught Confusions Art His Treasons restless and yet noisless Heart His Active Brain like Aetna's Top appear'd Where Treason 's forged yet no noise outward heard 'T was he continued what e'r bold M said And all the popular noise that P has made 'T was he that taught the Zealous Rout to rise And be his Slaves for some feigned Liberties Him for this Black Design Hell thought most fit Ah! wretched Man cursed by too good a Wit If not all this your stubborn Hearts can fright Think on the West think on the Cornish might The Saxon Fury to that far stretch'd place Drove the torn Reliques of great Brutus Race Here they of old did in long safety lie Compassed with Seas and a worse Enemy Ne'r till this time ne'r did they meet with Foes More Cruel and more Barbarous than those Ye noble Brittains who so oft with Blood Of Pagan Hosts have died old Tamar's Flood If any drop of mighty Vther still Or Vther's mighty'r Son your Veins does fill Shew then that Spirit till all Men think by you The doubtful Tales of your great Arthur true You have shewn it Britains and have often done Things that have cheared the weary setting Sun Again did Tamar your dread Arms behold As just and as successful as the Old It kissed the Cornish Banks and vow'd to bring His richest Waves to feed the ensuing Spring But murmur'd sadly and almost deny'd All fruitful Moisture to the Devon side Ye Sons of War by whose bold Acts we see How great a thing exalted Man may be The World remains your Debtor that as yet Ye have not all gone forth and conquered it I knew that Fate some wonders for you meant When matchless Hopton to your Coasts the sent Hopton so wise he needs not Fortunes Aid So fortunate his Wisdom's