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	speak_v	word_n	2,716	5	3.8043	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A36056	Directions to fame, about an elegy on the late deceased Thomas Thynn, Esq. and an eulogy on other most famous English worthies / by an unknown author.	Unknown author.	1682 (1682)	Wing D1538; ESTC R11506	8,528	36

's the Man-of Sense Who him preserv'd by his Intelligence Who dar'd to own tho' secretly his Cause For which he must by the Vsurper's Laws Assuredly have dy'd had it been known And for the Kings Life sav'd have lost his own But two Stones more this Pillar up to raise May serve a lasting Trophy to his praise By parts and Vertue from Gentility To be rais'd up unto Nobility Is not unusual or a thing so rare But that in Story Instances there are But for a Subject to have on him thrown From King and Country's Enemies and his own The utmost of their Spleen Wrath Malice Rage How rare scarce such an Instance in an Age. How great 's that Man whose very Enemies Would lavish for his Life so great a prize As Credit Honour Bodies Souls Estate So he might fall a Victim to their hate And why such hate to the Great Shaftsbury 'T is plain they are afraid our Liberty They shall not be inabled to destroy As long ' as Charles and He their Lives Enjoy One great Stone more can we but now procure 'T will be enough and if of Signature Royal so much the better still Come Fame Search thy Records turn unto Shaftsbury's Name Know'st not where ' t is Search one of th' highest Rooms Within thy Temple ' mongst the Great Mens dooms There there Turn o're the Leaves of that great Book And for the Name in Capital Letters look Hast found it Well! What stands there on Record What 's the report thou mad'st of the King's Word What did Great Charles say of this Noble Lord Speak boldly Shaftsbury Me out would bring When I am into Trouble brought What thing Can greater be than thus t' oblige a King Are these the very words I 'm sure the sence Is not mistook if true th' Intelligence Fly then ye Slanderers from Pulpit Court From Church from State thither no more resort Go to go to ye States-men that pretend The Government but Tinker-like to mend One hole to stop but two ten twenty make who 'l this for Policy Craft or Prudence take To praise your little selves some scribling Pen Gold Ore can hire and dispraise greater Men. Much of that Authors Rate who lately writ Of Absalom and Achitophel's great wit How easy 't is nor is' t a thing so rare For Poets to cry up when they compare A Pigmy Mushroom to a great Man's Name And that 's the Poet's not his Hero's Fame He who can bring Eclipses on the Stage His Muse can suit to this and the last Age Can his Play 's Epilogues so dext'rous make As for his Prologues some may them mistake And with more readiness his Prologues turn To Epilogues than for 's Religion burn How easily these Hero's of his Pen Of Mushrooms may he fancy into Men The sooner if by Sonnets he did more Than Pious Priests could ever do before And to Religion turn'd his own dear Whore So rare an Art perchance might fill his Mind With Thoughts unfitting much above his Kind And make him think 't was easie for his Verse Heroes to raise and whom he pleas'd depress He who out of the Quagmire of his Brain Could start up David's Harp to Charles's Wain With how great Ease even as the Maggot works He may Christians fancy Pagans Jews or Turks His Hackney-Muse for some great Dame might pass Would we but view her Face in the false Glass Of his own Fancy But since she rode Post Old Noll because Victorious to accost And still perhaps for Gold would court his Ghost What can we think her but a Prostitute Who doth to change her Self so often suit No wonder then that she doth represent Men from themselves and Truth quite different So in the Jaundice oft things Yellow shew And from false Opticks Species false do flow But when State-storms shall wipe these Colours off How mean she 'll look beneath each Foot-Boys Scoff Then Priest-craft might the Poet please again Instead of Rhiming Plays the Country-Swain Doctrine to teach and use with Application Enough to ravish the whole Rhiming Nation Then might the Bays become Canonical And Lawrel grow upon the Churches Wall How pretty would it be to see Apollo To hasten thither and his long Train follow Of Poets Poetasters and the Muses How would they hearken to the Poet 's Uses To see fair Chloris and the lovely Philis The Shepherd Damon the sweet Amaryllis With her Amintor come in hand and hand And to the preaching Poet listening stand How rare would this be Oh the blessed Time To hear the Bells Poetick Musick chime And then the Sermon too might be in Rhime To see the Garlands hanging and the VVreaths The Pulpit stuck with Bays from whence he breaths Soft gentle VVhispers on the Rhimers under And then the Cushion Thumps and so does thunder In sharp Reproofes Corrects their Poetry Shews where their mounting fancy soars too high And where their humble muse too low doth fly And then like Learned Preacher makes Digression With little wit less shame and no Discretion Our great Men's Lives to satyrize pretends And so with railing ' stead of Blessing ends How soon would then drink-Water Poets shun Parnassus and unto his Sermon Run How well this Priest would sute unto his Nun Should he take that time to preach up the Pope And Christen Bells but then beware the Rope For such bold prancks would hardly scape the Laws Nought then would serve to prop his tottering cause His Holy Water though drawn from the stream That gently flows from the fain'd Hipparene Would not the devil-a-Beadle keep away Nor thunder from the Lawrel nor from Bay The Lightning while the Amorous David lives And to Religions Laws full vigour gives Whilst Noble Shaftsbury stands Armour proof Let Weather rise or winds blow ne're so rough So solid is his Truth his Loyalty It needs no Art its worth to magnifie Muchless can Hackney-Pens it Vilify What think'st now Fame where some great Architect Shall we procure this Pillar to Erect The grand Materials thou seest ready there Where 's then the Master-Builder it to rear But now I think we need not so much care For Tools or Workmen the Stones ready are What matter is' t tho' they be roughly hewn The solid firmness will be better shewn The Work commends th' Artificer not the Stone That pleases most which is most natural These Stones then cast together as they fall So let them lye they cannot fall amiss That Truth is best which plain and artless is Who e're a lasting Trophy would erect Materials good and sound he doth expect Not Tinsel ware guilt o're when nought lies under But base vile trash this ne're will make a wonder Fam'd Artless Stonehenge on the Wiltshire-plains Is more admir'd among the Western Swains Than the carv'd Heads how'ere so natural Which they at Christmass see in Landlords Hall Unto the Learned likewise I appeal Whether of Nature this doth not reveal More and of wonder than