Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	blood_n	drink_v	eat_v	1,442	5	7.3051	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A43692	Grammatical drollery consisting of poems & songs wherein the rules of the nouns & verbs in the accendence are pleasantly made easy, for the benefit of any that delight in a tract of this nature / by W. Hickes.	Hickes, William, fl. 1671.	1682 (1682)	Wing H1887; ESTC R34461	49,164	125

then their Healths did tipple Which was then done by every Participle POEMS and SONGS A Mock-Song to Beauty 1. MY Love is a pretty Lass As any 's in all the Town Her Face doth shine like Brass And her Skin of a Tawny-brown 2. Her Hair 's of a lovely red With Horsegirt-Ribbands tied And hangs about her head Like Daglocks beautified 3. Her Forehead is low and rough Just like a pleated Gown Her Ears are large and tough And always are hanging down 4. Her Eyes are sunk full low Into her pretty head From whence a Cream doth flow That over her face doth spread 5. The one of her Eyes is large The other is very small Her Mouth it is like a Barge For length and breadth and all 6. Her Nose of a Scarlet hue Well set with Jems about And all do appear in view To adorn her delicate Snout 7. Though her Nose and Chin did jar Yet now they are perfect friends And though at distance were Now touch at both the ends 8. Her Teeth they are black and blue Her Tongue than the Cows more neat Her Lips of a silver hue And thatcht with Hair compleat 9. Her Neck it is thick and short Just like our brindled Cow And when she sings for sport She grunts like our old Sow 10. Her Shoulders and Arms are strong And both of a lusty growth To which her Hands do belong That are Shoulders of Mutton both 11. Her Back it is high and plump That some have her Credit defil'd By saying that above her Rump She always did seem with Child 12. There 's never a Girl in Town Of her Breasts can make such brags For they still are dangling down Like half-fill'd Pudding-bags 13. Of her Hanches she often boasts Because they are very fair Her Thighs are two Windmil-posts So they 'd need for the weight they bear 14. Her Legs are lovely and great Which doth her Credit maintain And therefore must needs be neat Being born in Crooked-lane 15. And now for her pretty Feet They can her Arms display But to see how her Heels do meet Now her Toes are worn away 16. Having heard the parts of my Dame I now do conclude my Droll And having no Toes her name Is call'd Stump-footed Moll In praise of the Taylors trade THe Taylors Trade is antient all we know For in the first of times they learnt to sow And made them Breeches then and Aprons too But was not worth a fig to what 't is now Threadneedle-street likewise to all is known To be the antient'st Street in London-Town The Cross-leg'd Signe was there the first set up And likewise there was first a Taylors shop Their Arms are antient too and well them fits Which is three Rampant Lice and a Cluster of Nits Which Coat of Arms with something else hath made More Gentlemen of that than any Trade And now I do believe you 'd know the cause Have patience and I 'll tell you how it was An antient Gentleman that was decay'd Who once had been a rich and ruffling Blade Brought 's Doublet to mend to a Taylors house On which were creeping many a lusty Louse But one more large and rampant than the rest Which made the Taylor think he was the best And chief of all that sharp Back-biting Crew Which he took up and cut him just in two With his new Shears and gave his Wife one half To eat and th' other half did eat himself And from that time did verily think that he Was a Gentleman and of antiquitie Because that Louse he knew had suckt before Of the antient Gentlemans blood such store And 's Wife likewise did verily think she was A Gentlewoman too for that very cause And so did write themselves do all we cou'd Because they eat so much o' th' gentile bloud Nay his man did say he was half a Gentleman Having lickt the Shears that cut the Louse in twain Then he drank hard which you know doth make us Gentlemen all that are friends to Bacchus And when others would leave half i' th' Cup Yet he would always wind his Bottoms up Nay those which drank not he would say were dull And tell 'em still 't was but a Thimble-full He could not drink to mend his Bloud I 'm sure You know his Bloud was good enough before When other Gentlemen would say they were Gentlemen of such and such a Shire Yet he excels them all in spight of their Ears Theirs came from one his from a pair of Shears And whereas other men did call the Court Behind their house a Backside he in sport Commands them all to call 't a Yard for he knew His Wife would be well-pleas'd with that name too And please her he must in all his discourse Because the grey Mare was known the better Horse And likewise knew it did belong to 's Trade Without a Yard no measure could be made Some say by Surgery too he was grown rich For never man did better cure a Stitch. Your Lawyers likewise much a Taylor praise Saying 't is an excellent Trade now-a-days Nay best for a Lawyer in all the Land ' Cause he has still so many Suits in hand One askt him why he marri'd a Northern woman He told him in their Trade 't was very common Because their Needle still to th' North doth tend And as their Needle guides so they must bend He hath a Goose too that flutters still so high And is so proud that it presses all't comes nigh And 't is a Goose that ne'r had more than one Wing at all when that 's off he 'll have none Other Geese do swim but these Pox rot 'um Do still i' th' water sink down to th' bottom Besides his Yard he hath another Measure Which he doth clip and alter at his pleasure The Barbers Trade is not so gentile as it Because they stand but Taylors always sit Still at their work which was the cause I think A fellow said when he was got in drink That a Taylors feet stunk the worst of any Trade whatsoever although there be many And reasons gave us why they were so strong Because they 're under his breech all day long A Taylor sent the other day I know him Unto a man for ten pounds he did owe him What makes thy Master send thus every day I hope he does not think I 'm running away No Sir though you are not I 'll tell you true Yet he must do 't within a day or two A Taylor once was bid to make a Gown And who d' ye think 't was for 't was for the Moon And as he tri'd it still as all men say It was too big or little every day The Taylor then was not in fault you see But 't was indeed the Moon 's inconstancie How can't be otherways being stuft with Lunacie And commonly light-headed used to be There is a Proverb which has been of old And many men have likewise been so bold To the discredit of