Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	great_a	king_n	see_v	4,869	5	3.5371	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A39614	An essay of a loyal brest in four copies of verses, viz. I. to His Majesty, Charles the 2d, II. to his two houses of Parliament, III. to his general, the Lord Monck, IV. to that his good angel, Madam Jane Lane / by William Fairebrother ...	Fairebrother, William, 1612 or 13-1681.	1660 (1660)	Wing F110; ESTC R6471	4,703	16

Vane Let them their Forces rally so we shall A new Creed straightway raise or raze out all 'T is that that last great Sir those Atheists sought When they our Charles the first to Tryal brought But timely you stept-in Religion sav'd And count'nanc'd Arts which we in vain had crav'd Sword and Pen kindly meet Thou 'st giv'n thy Troth That Pallas now 's again Goddess to both He 's a Plantagenet some others cry'd And so a Common-wealth will be defy'd A Single Person hee 'l erect so fight Whether for that name or the True-names Right Double 's their Charge Let its last part be true And then I think you act but what is due Though * {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} with * {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} do shew As Sibboleth with Shibboleth I trow They 're not for Marks now to discriminate Kindness for th' one sound for the other Hate Where words in but-one Letter disagree Let those men stand nearest in Unity Nay more a York and Lancaster we see In Virgins-cheeks make an Identity And the whole Nation owns now Red and White For the King's Colours and Monck's true delight Thus have you clad us whilst you put to shame The vast Temptations of a Royal-game And if Plantagenet give-up the Crown It may be said it 's now more Charles his own In earnest thus what some made you in sport Y've found the right-high STUART Steward of Hampton-Court And thus y 've stopt Rebels blasphemous Snarls Belcht-out against our first and second Charls Hail then to thee so soundeth ev'ry Lip Thou glorious piece of Self-denial-ship Thou Rump's Arch-traytor but the Head's best Friend A Head-piece so better than Breeches-end Right-welcome home Let 's now erect an Arch For thy so famous bloodless Countermarch Nor Steel nor Hemp then gaul'd For such fair Quarter The King now dubs thee with St. George's Garter And if sans soloecism it may be said That th' heir apparent can the Father dead To his own Subject be an Obligee Then may I safely say to Monck't must be Be blest in all your hopes of Wife and Son A meet-Help Shee as you the Work have done With Rev'rence to her Honour I shall say You 're next to Numa she 's Egeria Live thus renown'd and whilst Charls shall Head stand Mayst thou his Head-piece be by Sea and Land That what so e're his Ancestors have lost He may by you regain with easie cost Thus George-on-horse-back Sr. and St. with Lance Me-thinks I see you give a shake to France And your stout Troops proclaiming with drawn-swords King Charls King Charls King Charls thrice-blessed words TO Mrs. JANE LANE Anagram JANE LANE An'ne JAEL This Copy was made a day or two before she was known to be in England MADAM YOur Name here starts a Question so it 's askt Whether our Jane Lane be not Jael-maskt So quadrate doth each Story whilst your Calls Did summon-in two vanquisht Generals And how in Covert bade ye them good cheer Whilst God them-both unto you-both did steer Right-famous both But yet who is 't not sees An Interfering in your Histories She bold cut-off you bold did save an Head Charles liv'd by you Sifera 's by her struck-dead Great Amazons of Truth rather than shall The just Cause perish ye your selves would fall But God for such pure Love did well provide So Judeth too we 'l reckon on your side How fresh they two yet live and so shall You In lasting-Annals have as fresh an hue Where e're King Charls his Story 's to be seen There shall be read what you to him have been Your Names as Phidias in Minerva's shield Must jointly shine as in one common field Ne'r to be parted But here brave Wilmot's Ghost Steps-in to serve the Mistris of the rost Thanks your Relief of him and of his King That-now blest Soul first kenn'd this happy thing Accost you then he did with pesiveness And you for that awhile can do no less Not that he grieves now but that you not see One half-part of your noblest Company Yet Thanks to Heav'n that Time which changeth all The Scene at least makes Tragicomical Romancers here must veil true or but-feign'd W 'ave now upon them and above them gain'd The Crown was lost and as 't were quite forsook But you again it found in th' Sacred Oak You a King's Mistris chast the Lady Lane Flies far above the fate of Edward's Jane No Concubine nor an Herodia You Asking things most unjust things much undue Nor Delilah wert thou Thou didst not Him His hair then shorn-off to that Philistim Big with Success deliver-up a Prize The yet-great Strength and Light of Britain's Eyes His Safety thence you wrought and that jeat-curl You straight for Favours choicely up did furl That Black 's indeed the Set-off cal 't not Foyl What 's kist by Ladies of the purest-soyl And if such Homage is to th' Excrement What then to 's Person should be th' full Extent No Vertue thus him left yet Proselytes You many gain'd have by such zealous Sleights They 're Presents fit for Queens such Royal-Twists Are not for all folks fingers necks or wrists Why then as of the Garter so the Hair May not an Order be and full as rare And why not breeded be thereon the Fancy Of that our HONI SOIT QUI MALY PENSE Return great Voluntier of all th' Exiles True Maid of Honour Haste to take the Smiles O' th' King and Subjects-good Alive or dead Eterniz'd thou shalt be in Honour's-bed Let Virgins-all Garlands each-year prepare Of Oak with the enameld Maiden-hair But Lady of high Worth I 've one word more Nor doth it differ from Herodia's score Onely more-innocent you it may do That you would if the Thought hath e're took you Of half a Kingdom or perhaps a larger Exchange it for a St. Johns-head in th' Charger FINIS * The Greek word for Monarch hath in it one sole Letter more than hath the word for Monck in the same Language * The Greek word for Monarch hath in it one sole Letter more than hath the word for Monck in the same Language

ESSAY OF A LOYAL BREST In four Copies of Verses viz. I. To His Majesty CHARLES the 2d II. To His two Houses of PARLIAMENT III. To His General the Lord MONCK IV. To that His good Angel Madam JANE LANE By WILLIAM FAIREBROTHER of Kings Colledge in Cambridge LONDON Printed by JOHN FIELD 1660. TO THE KING' 's MOST SACRED MAJESTY ONce formerly dread Sir my Muse did Sing You our choice Prince in Parlament A King Then sate your Father there But ô since then A sad and long Parenthesis hath been 'Twixt us and Regal-splendour whilest your Youth Hath tost been to and fro because of Truth A Scene of twenty years an heap too large For my scant Ephah 't is an Homer's charge Ulysses and his ten years Travels now Seem no less trifling than Tom Thumb in th' Cow 'Twixt yours and his such diff'rence I assign As was 'twixt Bottles of his Wind and Wine Wine Wine not so chears the heart as the sight Of your blest presence who setst all aright A Welcom 's thus to us Then 'ts but our due To carol-out glad Welcoms unto you Whom Spain France Germany and Belgick-soil With admiration gaz'd on as a spoil Ev'n forc't into their hands through Britains rage And now do court as Mirrour of this age Whom they must needs us envy yet hath Heav'n Maugre all hellish plots us again giv'n Shall we not him adore And so'ts our due To carol-out Hosannaes unto you I 've seen your Star and worship How it shon Your Birth-day's-Ecce It stood near the Sun At its full-Zenith bright whilst Thanks was giv'n On St. Paul's sacred ground to th' King of Heav'n By th' King your Father 'T was a glorious day The King then to the Temple led the way Sunday and Lords-day both Then be 't our due To carol-out Hosannaes unto you But if Sighs must burst forth and cloud a Day May they flie up t' expiate Sin away If Tears the cheeks bedew let them be sent From Hearts that of past-villanies relent Thus may we blunt God's Ax thus next to God Ev'n thou O King I see will spare thy Rod And thus we all may wear the Mourning-weed Few are the men who not your Pardon need It 's wisest then for me to point-out none Lest others numb'ring number me for one Perhaps 'cause for Alleg'ance once I fled From Cambridge and at Oxford own'd an Head But lost it soon again at Naseby-fight My self ta'ne Pris'ner Were I silent-quite Your Grace may know Who was the greatest Thief Who of the barb'rous Actours were the Chief Who the stage-prompters or Dark-Lanthorn-men That contriv'd most though they themselves least seen White-powder Fiends killing without a Noise To crack thereon speaks children or meer boyes What Accessories live Who as with knives Did wound your righteous Cause through debaucht Lives At home and eke abroad and Who more quaint Did null the Edicts of that Royal Saint Your murther'd Father Then then may we all Before You as at God's Tribunal fall Peace you persue Mercy you do proclaim Who craves them not a second time 's too blame To such a God who should not then impart Gold myrrh with a frank-incense of the Heart The last can each one give the most forlorn When I hav 't giv'n away 't is as New-born Mine then on dayly-prostrate Knees shall crave Of that One More-supream that You may have Firm Health Allies most strong a matchless Queen Subjects as Loyal as e're Prince hath seen Innum'rous People a Church flourishing So with your Leave I 'le cry LONG LIVE THE KING And now great Sir and good I fear that I A petty-treason make 'gainst Soveraignty Thus to detain your Person But true Zeal Dare even back unto your Throne appeal That with your thickest Pardons you would smother This Crime of YOURS the humblest FAIREBROTHER Of Kings Colledge in Cambridge and Of the late Kings Army Anagram CHARLES STUART STET LAR CHARUS To the Right Honorable the two HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT WHat Poets feign of Phaeton above That whilst he Sol's great Charet needs would move The World was plung'd in Conflagrations Through Reins then too-too loose these three Nations Have late found true As if Enceladus Had from-below turn'd a fresh side on us To let-loose Aetna's flames Or else as if These floating-Islands had by Waves most stiff And sturdy Winds quite-lost their Anchor-hold So now on this side now on that side rowl'd Whilst Sun and Moon were blended and for Stars We direful Meteors had the late Heav'ns Scars But blest be God! we are now once again Under th' kind Influence of CHARLS his-wain And may we ever be so with a Train Of lesser Lights to spring about that main Let Harington here fix blind Milton's Fortune's ROTA Nor let it stir the breadth of an Iota This Land I promise firm Again if thus It must turn round be he Copernicus And so my self I 'de rather Stoick plight Than Peripatetick or chief Stagyrite Strange Revolutions were when Strickland's Holland Did England Scotland Ireland slight as no Land Then Tyranny and Rapine led the Van And who ' de not act so was the dang'rous man Then Ireland reakt with blood and then Scot-free Went Sacriledge nor was 't here Robbery To pocket up a Church or Lands-divine Because not diff'renc't with a Mine or Thine But now I hope w 'ave met in Plato's Sphear Where harbour can nor Jealousie nor Fear Where Vertue shall court Vertue where all vice Shall be disown'd as 't was in Paradise Where each man safely may enjoy his own And then I 'm sure the King 's to have a Throne And be obey'd too And now to what Ye Representatives With whom entrusted are our very lives Shall we you represent a Loyal Spark From billows sav'd a while as in an Ark A Moses here and there a Noah old Josephs some others by their brethren sold May ye get all off safe may ye soon see As blest an Issue as did all those three They all were big with blessings Did they curse To whom they meant it him they straight saw worse Such may your Terrour be and so perchance No fouler Crime shall reign than Ignorance In fine We all have err'd and gone astray Leaving much worse than Sheep the righter way Let 's therefore beg of that most pow'rful One That not to us or ours may ere be known That saddest of Diseases call'd Kings-evil Since 'gainst a good War 's have been more-than-civil TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE THE LORD GENERAL GEORGE MONCK A Civil War more than a civil War How strangely now to me do those words jar W 'ave rather Peace that 's civil more than civil Mirac'lously it comes in spight o' th' Devil And his black Imps who to cry do not cease That War may better be than present Peace A Monck and from the North too then cry some As soon expected may be Good from Rome A Monck the Faith's Defender Let 's again Call-in Scot Nevil Haselrig and