Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
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A65342
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Songs and poems of love and drollery by T.W.
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T. W. (Thomas Weaver), 1616-1663.
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1654
(1654)
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Wing W1193; ESTC R2846
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31,664
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128
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wife 't is in its power To make you privy Councellour All doubtfull strifes be can unfold And whither it the juster cause Determined oftner then the Laws The God of Judgment 's Gold Chor. Gold Gold O behold c. 7. 'T is want of Gold doth cause all ill And makes men steal defraud and kill And th'costly sins they cannot Act They envie and more guilt contract But such as store of treasure hold Do eat and drink and play fine pranks They kiss their Wench and give God thanks The God of vertue 's Gold Chor. Gold Gold O behold c. 8. Then you that seek a pleasant life For Gold make sale of Friend or wife Shift all Lands and Religions too Till Gold vouchsafe to dwell with you But if he still himself withhold And there remain no farther hope Betake your selves unto a rope Hang they can get no Gold Chor. Gold Gold O behold Thou delight and the chear Of the sight and the ear We 'l thy power adore And thy favour implore Angels from thee have wings to touch The lofty stars O grant us such That to Heaven we may sore Hell 's onely for the poor SONG NOw fie upon the Peevish Sect Of vertuous handsome Women Who when they 're woo'd to sport object Honour and Heaven unto men The Attributes of Chaste and Cold Become the ugly and the old But shee whose face is fair her minde May best adorne by being kinde The cruel Beauty doth prevent And frustrate Natures end Or is a loathed Instrument To plague men that offend All fruits their sweetnesse have to feast The tast And when they do 't are blest But that 's accurst that doth invite And Tantalize the Appetite Did the Celestial Lamps alone Without an influence Appear but to be gaz'd upon They 'd gain small honour thence They 're nor ador'd for their bright show But ' cause they warm and mix below So heavenly Beauties both inspire With wonder and content desire And may my Sylvia thine prove such Thus being admit'd by me Let me enjoy it now as much And I will worship thee Now quickly say if I must be Thy Martyr or thy Votary For thou to me canst prove no lesse Then either Saint or Murderesse The Compounders Song 1. COme Drawers some Wine Or we 'l pull down your sign For we 're all joval Compounders We 'l make the house ring VVith healths to the King And confusion unto his confounders 2. Since Goldsmiths Committee Affords us no pittie Our sorrows in VVine we will steep 'm They forc'd us to take Two Oaths and we make A third that we ne're mean to keep ' m. 3. And first who e're see 's VVe 'l drink on our knees To th' King may they choak that repine A fig for the Traitors That look to his waters Th 'ave nothing to do with our VVine 4. And next here 's a Cup To the Queen fill it up Wer 't poison we would make an end on 't May Charles and she meet And tread under feet Both Anabaptist and Independent 5. To the Prince and all others His Sisters and Brothers As low in condition as high-born We drink this and pray That shortly they may See all those that wrong them at Tyborn 6. And now here 's three bowles To all gallant souls That for the King did and will venture May they flourish when those Who are his and their foes Are dam'd and ram'd down to the Center 7. And last let a glasse To our Undoers passe Attended with two or three curses May plagues sent from hell Stuff their bodies as well As Cavaliers Coyn doth their purses 8. May the Canibals of Pym Eat them up lymb by lymb Or a feaver scorch 'em to Embers Pox keep 'em in bed Until they are dead Or compound for the losse of their members 9. And may they be found In nought to abound But heavens and their Countries anger May they never want factions Doubts fears and distractions Till the Gallow tree takes them from danger Rotundos ONce I a curious eye did fix to observe the tricks Of the Schismaticks of the times To find out which of them VVas the merriest theme And best would befit my rimes Arminians I found solid Socinians were not stolid Much learning for Papists did stickle But ah ha ha ha ha ha ha Rotundos Rot. ah ha ha ha ha ha ha Rotundos Rot. 'T is you that my Spleen doth tickle And first to tel must not be forgot How I once did trot With a great Zealot to a Lecture Where I a Tub did view Hung with apron blew 'T was the preachers as I conjecture His use and doctrine too VVere of no other hue Though he spake with a tone most mickle But ah ha ha c. He taught amongst other pretty things That the Book of Kings Small benefit brings to the godly Beside he had some grudges At the book of Judges And talk't of Leviticus odly Wisodm most of all He declares Apocriphall Beat Bell and the Dragon like Michael But ab ha ha c. ' Gainst humane Learning next he enveys And most boldy says 'T is that which destroyes Inspiration Let superstitious sense And wit be banisht hence With Popish premeditation Cut Bishops down in haste And Cathedralls as fast As corn that 's fit for the syckle But ah ha c. I heard one say if her knee he did touch He could tell thus much If a sister did crouch at Communion Then thrusting up his hand He ne're made a stand Till he came where her fork had union But she without all terrour Beleiving 't was an errour Did laugh while her tears down trickl'd But ah ha c. Oh then her Spleen he tickl'd Indeed quoth she with much modestie Good brother you be Of a certainty much too high O no no no quoth he Is not thy knee At the upper end of thy thigh And now I find by handing That thou wilt take it standing Of me thine own sweet mickle But ah ha O then her spleen he 'd tickle Their teachers like to wild Asses wince At their Soveraign Prince And I heard not long since one demanding If there must needs be one Might not I fit a throne As well as the tub that I stand in And how well would a Crown Sit on my head so rown But we 'l have no man so mickle But ah ha ha c. If once they get a seditious hint It must out in Print Though there 's matter in 't to o'return all And if they write in meeter They think there 's nothing sweeter Unlesse it be old Tom Sternhold Their Papers will serve those That have need to pick a rose Or else too good for the pickle But ah ha c. Thus they will never leave off to palter Till at last a halter Doth the case quite alter with such men They 'l wish they 'd ne're forgon The old Religion And learn'd a new of the Dutchmen They 'l surely constant be