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	know_v	lord_n	3,918	5	3.5901	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A61486	Norfolk drollery, or, A compleat collection of the newest songs, jovial poems, and catches, &c. by the author, M. Stevenson.	Stevenson, Matthew, fl. 1654-1685.	1673 (1673)	Wing S5503; ESTC R14222	44,154	142

profound So qualify'd he could prevail Alike with Gown and Coat of Mail. He had a hand would all things sute Either the Sword the Pen or Lute Thus we in one have lost all three Apollo Mars and Mercurie No more then on the question stand The Seas now richer than the Land And we may well say Loyalty Lies in the bottom of the Sea An ELEGY upon the Right Worshipful Sir Thomas Rant LOoks take your leave of smiles let every eye Be drest in sorrows saddest Livery Prepare for newes for news that will depress Your Spirits with a load of Heaviness Where every Mourner cause has to be chief There needs gradation to so great a grief He 's faln he 's faln a Man of that renown The wonder and the glory of the Gown Whom Norfolk call'd that well his learning knew Laws Oracle and Lord Chief Justice too Were cases ne'er so nice he needed not With Alexander cut the Gord●on knot His piercing Eye enlighten'd by his wit What others tore a pieces could unknit Such was his love to Justice too that Might Could never boast the Victory of Right His Poise so just was and his Scales so even Men thought Astrea came again from heaven He still made Peace deliver'd the Oppres● And therefore had the promise to be blest Thus thus he liv'd and went at his decease As a Peace-maker to the Prince of Peace He got enuff and when enuff did know I wou'd all other Lawyers wou'd do so Heaven out of doubt heaven alone knows best In kindness gave him his ouietus est His charity which with the best compares He writ himself in living Charactars He has as it sufficiently is known Provided for more Widows than his own Learned he was and Loyal too if we Mayn't rather say Learning and Loyaltie In summe he such accomplishments engrost 'T is not one Age can say what we have lost Well may we then go weep our fountains dry And leave a deluge for posterity An ELEGY upon Miles Hobart Esque who dy'd the Friday before good Friday WHat time we thought our fasting almost done Another Lent our mourning has begun A Le●t two Fridays hath both dy'd in blood Ah me swe●t Miles the bad forestalls the good And yet please you we 'l both good Fridays ca●l His for himself our Saviour's for us all He left no Widow to bedew his Hearse With fruitless if not hypocritick teares But as an Angel of a nobler Sphear He was in this as all things singular Such was his lofty and prodigious Wit No Jacob's staff could take the height of it And such his candour Titus like he sent None from his presence sad or dis● ontent So just so generous so gentile was he No Man can say h 'as lost an Enemy Coaches and numerous Hor●men have wel-prov'd How much lamented and how much belov'd Who thought it not enuff at home to mourn But many Miles rid weeping to his Urne Where neither Brass nor Marble need be spent Name but Miles Hobart 't is a Monument An Elegy upon the Reverend John Porter D. D. and Prebend of Christ-Church in Norwich A Star is faln an Orb does disappear Was late the glory of our Hemisphear So v●st his Learning this all-knowing Man Was lookt on as a l●ving Vatican For Piety he was so all divine That Moses like his very face did shine His Loyalty I need not here maintain His sufferings show he lov'd his Soveraign But maugre Men and Devils he laid down His head in peace and with a silver Crown Yet liv'd to see his Prince and give God praise For ten illustrious Restauration dayes His Sors all prosper and his Daughters are Like polish● Corners of the Temple fair As if indulgent Heaven intended he Should have amends in his Posteritie For his humility this all Men know Of parts so high ne'er Man had mind more low Vpon a Red Face A Bucket ho He shou'd be of the race Of William Rusus by his rufull face His Nose according to the Heralds rules Powder'd with Ermins is in a field Gules His face else which does so with Rubies shine A Jewellers shop is and his Nose the sign When a black Sute his Taylor does him send He is a Charcole lighted at one end His bow-dye Flag in the Red-squadron pl●●e But he show'd a Fireship by his face He is an Olivarian and no wonder His precious looks what are they else but plunder For as a Maxim this have I held ever That a red face is sign of a bad Liver Yet to speak truth he has a Snout as fair As rising Sun or Turkey-leather Chair And say no Coals we from Newcastle get His fiery face wou'd roast a Joynt of Meat The Low Estate of the Low-Country Countess of Holland on Her Death-bed with the Advice of her Doctors and Confessors SEe how she lies in poor distressed State Whom all her Doctors now judge desperate Fain would her widen'd arms some comfort clasp But comfort comes too late at the last gasp Her Children and her near Relations run About the Streets and cry undone undone And swear that the Physicians do not come To Cure but send her to her long long home The North-pole Doctor feels her Pulse to be As feeble now as her Authoritie Whose constitution sometimes since so good Had she been temperate she might stil have stood But with her Spice-box she kept such a coile She heat her blood and made it over-boile By which Distemper she a Frenzy gat And said and did at last she knew not what Nay She in this Distemper of her Brain Fancy'd her self sole Soveraign of the Main ' A main mistake indeed like Dreams of baggs Or such wear Robes in sleep but rise in raggs She that on Pictures doted so may here Her self the Picture see of a dear Year Next Doctor to a Surfeit does impute From her devouring too much Spanish Fruit And not digesting Crudities he says Has turn'd the Butter in her Maw to grease He sayes besides her Tongue is very fowl And he is in the right on 't o' my Soul To gargle it in vain ye go about T' will ne'er be clean until it be clean out Nay she the Scurvy has too and in truth This last Sea Fight has drawn out her last tooth Another says 't is a malignant Feaver Sprung from her falser heart and fouler Liver The ferment of her Stomack gives it way And it does on her very Vitals prey Hot-spur whips out his Lance to let her blood E're he her Malady well understood Yet he an able Doctor is although With her he 's no approv'd Physician now Hold quoth a soberer Doctor she 's too old She 's full a hundred and her days are told Her blood is turn'd to a pituitous matter She 's Dropsical and drown'd in her own water She makes it freely but no ease at all Although it overflow the Urinal Next comes a whisl●ing Doctor with a Vomit But that the graver

sort disswade her from it For it alas would but her griefs enhance And make her spew out her Inhabitants Her lower Region under VVater lies And if ye draw it up she drowns and dies What then to her do ye intend to do She has a Feaver and a Dropsie too Her spirits that so haughty were are fled And here she bed-rid lies more than half dead She is departing and the People just Ready to lay her honour in the dust Farewell Physicians your too costly fees Have Bank-rupt her and drawn her to the Lees. She 's in a weak estate and now time for An Application to her Consessor Who here good Father leans on the Bed-post With extreme Unction Crucifix and Host. If any possibility appear To exorcise the Devil out of her And being for her Hellish actions sorry To pray her in and out of Purgatory But shrive her to the bottom when she is Fit for the next world she is fit for this But stay here comes a Doctor from the Hague A Soveraign Doctor cures her of her Plague She that but now was sinking soon shall swim Soon as she swears she will be rul'd by him We hear that she has done it Then be sure Her very Resignation is her Cure Who knows what virtues in an Orange dwell An Orange only 't is cou'd make her well The Royal Rendezvous Or the Magnificence of His Majesties Fleet. BLess me where am I to what Ruine bent I should be by this moving Grove in Kent Me thought I saw a City on the Seas And by the Steeples told the Parishes There might be as I guess twice seventy seven ' Whose Babel Towers were climbing up to Heaven Their Language was confusion and their breath Darken'd the Aire with sentences of death They seem'd as 't were a stand of Pikes or Trees That over-top the humble Coppices With these high towring Masts our Muse begins And where such Sign-posts are what are the Inns Those Trojan Horses form'd by Pallas charms Not stuffd with Garbidg but with Men and Arms Those wooden Mountains on the Navy Main As if the Gyants fought with Jove again If Philip King of Spain did once call h●s Invincible what wou'd he think of this Away with Xerxes Chains fond foolerie T' is such a Fleet as this fetters the Sea You wou'd have thought that the tumultuous frlsod Was not so much an Ocean as a Wood And that vast womb of Ships Forest of Dean Stub'd by the Rebels was grown up agen A floating Island a Realm did surpass Denmark and Dantzick for your choice of Masts I 'm confident next Month we shall advance May-Poles enough to make the Dutchmen dance Did you but see our Frigat● you would swear Norway had left scarce either Pitch or Tar. For Lead you wou'd suppose here Darby was For Iron Bilb●e and Corinth for Bra●s And for provision you wou'd think you were In Aegypt to behold the Corn that 's here Brandy although sufficient we decline Spirits of Men are here give Cowa●ds wine And say seven Provinces united be Each Ship of ours is a whole Colonie And lofty Waves that as Spectators crowd Honour'd with such a Fleet may well be proud Whilst both the Waters and the VVinds agree To swell our Sailes into a Tympanie VVhat shall we not be able then to do That have great Caesar and his fortunes too And superadded to this a Cause so just We might to providence and cockboats trust But blest be Heaven we have a Royal Fleet Will make those Picture-mongers crouch to see'c Talk not of Tempus est Bacon's an Ass Our wooden Walls are stronger than his brass Vpon one Bacon Rob'd by a Red Coat THe time and place hunger and hazard-set And th'Combatants C●lveshead Bacon Bacon set up his brizz●ls one wou'd pawn Their life at present Bacon had been brawn VVh●m the keen Souldier co●lard and so home Laid at him Bacon was all of a some VVho stoutly thus retorted be n't mistaken To stay your stomack Sir know I am Bacon Bacon was of good chear and thought to beat him But the rude Redcoat lookt as he wou'd eat him And beèing stomackful he falls aboard In which sharp Conflict Bacon lost his sword About his brains he brandisht his bright slasher The very sight of Bacon made him rasher And at each slive cutting at Bacon's britch Sixteen by honours made poor Bacon Flitch The Son of Iron follow'd hackt and chopt Bacon was fat and in the broil he dropt VVho now his Belly full of fighting got Never alas went Bacon so to Pot Tormented thus in his own grease he fries Poor Bacon turning up the Eggs of 's Eyes And seeing that the Souldier was so teasty Bacon repented he had been so reasty For now he knew not what himself to do with Bacon alas had ne'er a hamme to go with The Souldier from his bones the flesh had taken And made a very Sparrib now of Bacon At length the Souldier having out of measure Larded his leanness with fat Bacon's treasure Away marcht off that Rogue of the red list Whom to his cost Bacon had greaz'd i th' fist Bacon hoy'd home too but he cou'd not gallop A man might see Bacon had lost a Collop But how must Bacon now recruit this Lent VVhy Bacon must to Pease incontinent To change conditions Bacon did desire Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire But it had been had he been wise to hear Butter for Bacon he had ne'er been there VVho can but pitty what the whole destroyes Never was Bacon slic'd so in a froise But e're he meet again such two-edg'd talk Bacon swears he 'l be hang'd upon a bawlk And that he might the powers above acquaint Poor Bacon took him to his Gridiron-Saint Yet when at last the matter up was taken The Souldier got many a Pound of Bacon Vpon the New Vizor Mask I Have an Offering to Lucinda's Lipps And wou'd but cannot pay 't for the Eclipse That keeps off my benighted Eye I mean The Curtain that divides it from the Scene Why should the fair pursue the smoke your brow Shews Woman is a double shadow now The Raven 's billing with the milky Dove And Vulcan's kissing of the Queen of Love The Swan has clapt her foot upon her face Nor can I June for this Cloud embrace Thy fair face blemisht with so foul a blot Is like a China Dish in a black Pot. The fight portends at least a Funeral Where beauty lies under a Velvet Pall. Here we a Deity unknown adore And dig for Silver bury'd in its Ore Why should'st load a fruitful face with soil Thy beams are brighter than to need that foil Let Batts and Owles beg eye-salve of the dark I cannot see my Daphne for her bark Say my Lucinda for what discontent Keep thy all Rosie cheeks so strict a Lent Say is thy face which thou dost thus disguise In mourning for the Murders of thine eyes If that be so sweetest I should be proud