Selected quad for the lemma: book_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
book_n	soul_n	young_a	youth_n	18	3	7.4340	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A36650	Miscellany poems containing a new translation of Virgills eclogues, Ovid's love elegies, odes of Horace, and other authors : with several original poems / by the most eminent hands.	Virgil. Bucolica. English.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700. Absalom and Achitophel.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700. Medall.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700. MacFlecknoe.	1684 (1684)	Wing D2314; ESTC R297	122,944	436

such Excuses for himself pretends Will eas'ly bear the absence he defends A little time I fear will quite deface Thy thoughts of me to give another place Fool that I was my weakness of betray To one not mov'd with all that I can say Go cruel Man imbarck when e'er you please But take this with you as you pass the Seas Tho' with the fiercest Winds the Waves should roar That Tempest will be less than mine on Shore SIRENO 'T is hard unjust suspicions to abide But who can such obliging Anger chide Fair as thou art that Charm cou'd never move My heart to this degree without thy Love For 't is thy tender sense of my sad Fate That does my sharpest deadly'st pain create Ah fear not to what place soe'er I go That I shall ever break my sacred Vow When for another I abandon thee May Heav'n for such a Crime abandon me DIANA If ever I my dearest Swain deceive Or violate the Faith that here I give When to their Food my hungry Flocks I lead May the fresh Grass still wither where they tread And may this River when I come to drink Dry up as soon as I approach the brink Take here this Bracelet of my Virgin hair And when for me thou canst a minute spare Remember this poor pledge was once a part Of her who with it gave thee all her heart Where e'er thou go'st may Fortune deal with thee Better than thou alas hast dealt with me Farewell my Tears will give me leave to say No more than this To all the Gods I pray These weeping Eyes may once enjoy the sight Before they close in Deaths eternal Night SIRENO Then let Sireno banish all his fears Heaven cannot long resist such pious Tears The Righteous Gods from whom our passion came Will pity sure so innocent a Flame Reverse the hard Decree for which we mourn And let Sireno to his Joys return I shall again my Charming Nymph behold And never part but in her Armes grow old That hope alone my breaking heart sustains And Arms my tortur'd Soul to bear my Pains THE STORY of LVCRETIA OUT OF Ovid de Fastis Book II. Englished By Mr. Creech NOw Tarquin the last King did Govern Rome Valiant abroad 't is true thô fierce at home Some Towns he won some he did fairly beat And took the Gabbi by a mean deceit For of his Three brave Youths his youngest Son His Nature fierce his Manners like his own His Father's Child Outright pretends a flight And came amidst the Enemies by Night They drew their Swords Come kill me now he said My Father will rejoyce to see me dead See how his Rods my tender Entrails tore To prove this true he had been whipt before The men grow mild they sheath their threatning swords And view his wounds and those confirm his words Then each man weeps and each his wrongs resents And begs to side with them and he consents Thus gull'd the crafty Youth and once in Trust The first occasion sought to be unjust And the unthinking Gabii's Town betray Consults his Father for the surest way There was a Garden crown'd with fragrant Flowers A little Spring ran through the pleasant Bowers The soft retreat of Tarquin's thinking hours There when the message came he chanc't to stand And lopt the tallest Lilies with his wand With that the Messenger return'd and said I saw your Father crop the lofty head Of each tall Flower but not one word to you Well says the Son I know what I must doe And streight the Nobles kill'd When those were gone He soon betray'd the poor defenceless Town When lo a wond'rous sight a Serpent came And snatcht the Entrails from the dying Flame Phoebus advis'd and thus the Answer ran He that shall kiss for so the Fates ordain His Mother first shall be the greatest man Then streight with eager haste th' unthinking Crowd Their Mothers kiss't nor understood the God But wiser Brutus who did act the Fool Lest Tarquin should suspect his rising Soul Fell down as if 't had been a Casual fall And kiss't his Mother Earth before them all Now Ardea was besieg'd the Town was strong The men resolv'd and so the Leaguer long And whilst the Enemy did the War delay Dissolv'd in Ease the careless Souldiers lay And spent the vacant time in sport and play Young Tarquin doth adorn his Noble Feasts The Captains treats and thus bespeaks his Guests Whilst we lye lingring in a tedious War And far from Conquest tired out with Care How do our Women lead their Lives at Rome And are we thought on by our Wives at home Each speaks for his each says I 'll swear for mine And thus a while they talkt grown flusht with Wine At last Young Collatine starts up and cryes What need of words come let 's believe our Eyes Away to Rome for that 's the safest Course They all agree so each man mounts his Horse First to the Court and there they found no Guard No Watchmen there and all the Gates unbar'd Young Tarquin's Wife her hair disorder'd lay And loose was sitting there at Wine and play Thence to Lucretia's She a lovely Soul Her Basket lay before her and her Wooll Sate midst her Maids and as they wrought she said Make haste 't is for my Lord as soon as made Yet what d'ye hear for you perchance may hear How long is 't e'er they hope to end the War Yet let them but return But ah my Lord Is rash and meets all dangers with his Sword Ah when I fansie that I see him fight I swoon and almost perish with the fright Then wept and leaving her unfinisht thread Upon her bosome lean'd her lovely head All this became gracefull her grief appears And she chast Soul lookt beauteous in her tears Her Face lookt well by Natures art design'd All charming fair and fit for such a mind I come says Collatine discard thy Fear At that she streight reviv'd and oh my Dear She claspt his neck and hung a welcome burthen there Mean while Young Tarquin gathers lustfull Fire He burns and rages with a wild Desire Her Shape her Lilie-white and Yellow hair Her natural Beauty and her gracefull Air Her words her voice and every thing does please And all agree to heighten the disease That she was Chast doth raise his wishes higher The less his hopes the greater his Desire But now 't was Morning and the warlike Train Return from Rome and take the Field again His working Powers her absent Form restore The more he minds her still he loves the more 'T was thus she sate thus spun and thus was drest And thus her Locks hung dangling o'er her Breast Such was her Mein and such each Air and Grace And such the charming figure of her Face As when a furious storm is now blown o'er The Sea 's still troubl'd and the Waters roar And curle upon the Winds that blew before So he thô gone the pleasing form

been said Our House relieves the Ladies from the frights Of ill pav'd Streets and long dark Winter Nights The Flanders Horses from a cold bleak Road Where Bears in Furs dare scarcely look abroad The Audience from worn Plays and Fustian Stuff Of Rhyme more nauseous than three Boys in Buff. Though in their House the Poets Heads appear We hope we may presume their Wits are here The best which they reserv'd they now will Play For like kind Cuckolds tho' w' have not the way To please we 'l find you Abler Men who may If they shou'd fail for last recruits we breed A Troop of frisking Monsieurs to succeed You know the French sure cards at time of need An EPILOGUE VVritten by Mr. Dryden WEre you but half so Wise as y' are Severe Our youthful Poet shou'd not need to fear To his green Years your Censures you would suit Not blast the Blossom but expect the Fruit. The Sex that best does pleasure understand Will always chuse to err on t' other hand They check not him that 's awkard in delight But Clap the young Rogues Cheek and set him right Thus heart'nd well and flesh'd upon his prey The Yonth may prove a Man another day Your Ben and Fletcher in their first young flight Did no Volpone no Arbaces write But hopp'd about and short excursions made From Bough to Bough as if they were afraid And each were guilty of some slighted Maid Shakespear's own Muse her Pericles first bore The Prince of Tyre was elder than the Moore 'T is miracle to see a first good Play All Hawthorns do not bloom on Christmas-day A slender Poet must have time to grow And spread and burnish as his Brothers do Who still looks lean sure with some Pox is curst But no Man can be Falstaff fat at first Then damn not but indulge his stew'd essays Encourage him and bloat him up with praise That he may get more bulk before he dyes He 's not yet fed enough for Sacrifice Perhaps if now your Grace you will not grudge He may grow up to Write and you to Judge An Epilogue for the KINGS HOUSE VVritten by Mr. Dryden WE Act by fits and starts like drowning Men But just peep up and then dop down again Let those who call us wicked change their sence For never Men liv'd more on Providence Not Lott'ry Cavaliers are half so poor Nor broken Citts nor a Vacation Whore Not Courts nor Courtiers living on the Rents Of the three last ungiving Parliaments So wretched that if Pharaoh cou'd Divine He might have spar'd his dream of 7 Lean Kine And chang'd his Vision for the Muses Nine The Comet that they say portends a Dearth Was but a Vapour drawn from Playhouse Earth Pent there since our last Fire and Lilly says Foreshews our change of State and thin Third days 'T is not our want of Wit that keeps us poor For then the Printers Press would suffer more Their Pamphleteers each day their venom spit They thrive by Treason and we starve by Wit Confess the truth which of you has not laid Four Farthings out to buy the Hatfield Maid Or which is duller yet and more wou'd spite us Democritus his Wars with Heraclitus Such are the Authors who have run us down And exercis'd you Criticks of the Town Yet these are Pearls to your Lampooning Rhymes Y'abuse your selves more dully than the Times Scandal the Glory of the English Nation Is worn to Raggs and scribbl'd out of fashion Such harmless thrusts as if like Fencers wise They had agreed their Play before their prize Faith they may hang their Harps upon the Willows 'T is just like Children when they Box with pillows Then put an end to Civil Wars for shame Let each Knight Errant who has wrong'd a Dame Throw down his Pen and give Her as He can The satisfaction of a Gentleman Prologue to the Princess of CLEVES VVritten by Mr. Dryden LAdies I hope there 's none behind to hear I long to whisper something in your Ear A Secret which does much my Mind perplex There 's Treason in the Play against our Sex A Man that 's false to Love that Vows and cheats And kisses every living thing he meets A Rogue in Mode I dare not speak too broad One that does something to the very Bawd Out on him Traytor for a filt●y Beast Nay and he 's like the pack of all the rest None of 'em stick at mark They all deceive Some Iew has chang'd the Text I half believe Their Adam cozen'd our poor Grandame Eve To hide their faults they rap out Oaths and tear Now tho' we Lye w●re too well bred to Swear So we compound for half the Sin we owe But men are dipt for Soul and Body too And when found out excuse themselves ●ox cant 'em With Latin stuff perjuria ridet Amantum I 'm not Book Learn'd to know that word in vogue But I suspect 't is Latin for a Rogue I 'me sure I never heard that Schritchowl hollow'd In my poor ears but Separation follow'd How can such perjur'd Villains e're be Saved Achitophel's not half so false to David With Vows and soft expressions to allure They stand like Foremen of a Shop demure No sooner out of sight but they are gadding And for the next new Face Ride out a padding Yet by their favour when they have bin Kissing We can perceive the ready Mony missing Well! we may rail but 't is as good e'en wink Something we find and something they wi●l sink But since they 'r at Renouncing 't is our parts To trump their Diamonds as they trump our Hearts Epilogue to the Princess of Cleves VVritten by Mr. Dryden A Qualm of Conscience brings me back agen To make amends to you be spatter'd Men We Women Love like Cats that hide their Joys By growling squaling and a hideous noise I rail'd at wild young Sparks but without lying Never was Man worse thought on for high-flying The prodigal of Love gives each her part And squandring shows at least a noble Heart I 've heard of Men who in some lew'd Lampoon Have hir'd a Friend to make their valour known That Accusation straight this question brings What is the Man that does such naughty things The Spaniel Lover like a sneaking Fop Lyes at our Feet He 's scarce worth taking up 'T is true such Hero's in a Play go far But Chamber practice is not like the Bar. When Men such vile such faint Petitions make We fear to give because they fear to take Since Modesty's the Vertue of our kind Pray let it be to our own Sex confin'd When Men usurp it from the Female Nation 'T is but a work of Supererrogation We show'd a Princess in the Play 'T is true Who gave her Caesar more than all his due Told her own Faults but I shou'd much abhor To choose a Husband for my Confessor You see what Fate follow'd the Saint-like Fool For telling Tales from out the Nuptial