Selected quad for the lemma: child_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
child_n	father_n	fear_v	pity_v	2,202	5	10.4985	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A36573	Poems, by that most famous wit, William Drummond of Hawthornden; Poems. Selections	Drummond, William, 1585-1649.; Phillips, Edward, 1630-1696?	1656 (1656)	Wing D2202; ESTC R37307	89,708	228

wildest Pow'rs doth tame His Providence extending every-where His Justice which proud Rebels doth not spare In every Page no Period of the same But silly we like foolish Children rest Well pleas'd with colour'd Velum Leaves of Gold Faire dangling Ribbands leaving what is best On the great Writers sense ne're taking hold Or if by chance we stay our Minds on ought It is some Picture on the Margine wrought THe Griefe was common common were the cries Teares Sobs and Groanes of that afflicted Traine Which of Gods chosen did the Sum containe And Earth rebounded with them pierc'd were Skies All good had left the World each Vice did raign In the most monstrous sorts Hell could devise And all Degrees and each Estate did staine Nor further had to go whom to surprize The World beneath the Prince of Darknesse lay And in each Temple had himselfe install'd Was sacrific'd unto by Prayers call'd Responses gave which fooles they did obey When pittying Man God of a Virgines wombe Was borne and those false Deities strooke dumbe RUn Shepheards run where Bethlem blest appears We bring the best of News be not dismay'd A Saviour there is borne more old than yeares Amidst the rolling Heaven this Earth who stay'd In a poore Cottage Inn'd a Virgin Maid A weakling did him beare who all upbeares There he in Cloaths is wrapt in Manger laid To whom too narrow Swadlings are our Spheares Run Shepheards run and solemnize his Birth This is that Night no Day grown great with Blisse In which the Power of Satan broken is In Heaven be Glory Peace unto the Earth Thus singing through the Aire the Angels swame And all the Stars re-ecchoed the same O Than the fairest day thrice fairer night Night to best Daies in which a Sun doth rise Of which the golden Eye which cleares the Skies Is but a sparkling Ray a Shadow light And blessed ye in silly Pastors sight Mild Creatures in whose warme Crib now lies That Heaven-sent Youngling holy-Maid-born Wight ' Midst end beginning of our Prophesies Blest Cottage that hath Flow'rs in Winter spread Though withered blessed Grasse that hath the grace To deck and be a Carpet to that Place Thus singing to the sounds of oaten Reed Before the Babe the Shepheards bow'd their knees And Springs ran Nectar Honey dropt from Trees TO spread the azure Canopy of Heaven And make it twinkle with those spangs of Gold To stay the pondrous Globe of Earth so even That it should all and nought should it uphold To give strange motions to the Planets seven Or Jove to make so meek or Mars so bold To temper what is moist dry hot and cold Of all their Jars that sweet accords are given Lord to thy Wisdom's nought nought to thy Might But that thou shouldst thy Glory laid aside Come meanely in mortality to ' bide And die for those deserv'd eternall plight A wonder is so far above our wit That Angels stand amaz'd to muse on it THe last and greatest Herauld of Heavens King Girt with rough Skins hies to the Desarts wild Among that savage brood the Woods forth bring Which he more harmelesse found than man and mild His food was Locusts and what there doth spring With Honey that from Virgine Hives distill'd Parcht Body hollow Eyes some uncouth thing Made him appeare long since from Earth exil'd There burst he forth all ye whose Hopes rely On God with me amidst these Desarts mourne Repent repent and from old errours turne Who list'ned to his voice obey'd his cry Only the Ecchoes which he made relent Rung from their flinty Caves repent repent THese Eyes deare Lord once Tapers of Desire Fraile Scouts betraying what they had to keep Which their own heart then others set on fire Their trait'rous black before thee here out-weep These Locks of blushing deeds the gilt attire Waves curling wrackfull shelves to shadow deep Rings wedding Soules to Sins lethargick sleep To touch thy sacred Feet do now aspire In Seas of care behold a sinking Barke By winds of sharpe remorse unto thee driven O let me not be Ruines aym'd at marke My faults confest Lord say they are forgiven Thus sigh'd to Jesus the Bethanian faire His teare-wet Feet still drying with her Haire I changed Countries new delights to find But ah for pleasure I did find new paine Enchanting Pleasure so did Reason blind That Fathers love and words I scorn'd as vaine For Tables rich for bed for following traine Of carefull servants to observe my Mind These Heards I keep my fellows are assign'd My Bed's a Rock and Herbs my Life sustaine Now while I famine feele feare worser harmes Father and Lord I turne thy Love yet great My faults will pardon pitty mine estate This where an aged Oake had spread its Armes Thought the lost Child while as the Heards he led And pin'd with hunger on wild Acorns fed IF that the World doth in amaze remaine To heare in what a sad deploring mood The Pelican poures from her brest her Bloud To bring to life her younglings back againe How should we wonder at that soveraigne Good Who from that Serpents sting that had us slaine To save our lives shed his Lifes purple flood And turn'd to endlesse Joy our endlesse Paine Ungratefull Soule that charm'd with false Delight Hast long long wander'd in Sins flowry Path And didst not thinke at all or thoughtst not right On this thy Pelicans great Love and Death Here pause and let though Earth it scorn heaven se● Thee poure forth tears to him pour'd Bloud for thee IF in the East when you do there behold Forth from his Christall Bed the Sun to rise With rosie Robes and Crowne of flaming Gold If gazing on that Empresse of the Skies That takes so many formes and those faire Brands Which blaze in Heavens high Vault Nights watchful eyes If seeing how the Seas tumultuous Bands Of bellowing Billows have their course confin'd How unsustain'd the Earth still stedfast stands Poore mortall Wights you e're found in your Mind A thought that some great King did sit above Who had such Laws and Rites to them assign'd A King who fix'd the Poles made Spheares to move All Wisdome Purenesse Excellency Might All Goodnesse Greatnesse Justice Beauty Love With feare and wonder hither turne your Sight See see alas him now not in that State Thought could fore-cast Him into Reasons light Now Eyes with tears now Hearts with griefe make great Bemoane this cruell Death and ruthfull case If ever Plaints just Woe could aggravate From Sin and Hell to save us humane Race See this great King nail'd to an abject Tree An object of reproach and sad disgrace O unheard Pity Love in strange degree He his own Life doth give his Bloud doth shed For Wormelings base such Worthinesse to see Poore Wights behold his Visage pale as Lead His Head bow'd to His Brest Locks sadly rent Like a cropt Rose that languishing doth fade Weake Nature weepe astonish'd World lament Lament you Winds

end To kisse the Earth at last he did pretend And bowing down besought with humble grace An aged Woman neare to give some place She turn'd and turning up her Hole beneath Said Sir kisse here for it is all but Earth Proteus of Marble THis is no work of Stone Though it seems breathlesse cold and sense hath non● But that 〈◊〉 God which keeps The monstro●● people of the raging Deeps Now that he doth not change his shape this while It is thus constant more you to beguile Pamphilus SOme Ladies wed some love and some adore them I like their wanton sport then care not for them Apelles enamour'd of Campaspe Alexanders Mistris POore Painter while I sought To counterfeit by Art The fairest Frame which Nature ever wrought And having limm'd each Part Except her matchlesse Eyes Scarce on those Suns I gaz'd As Lightning falls from Skies When straight my Hand grew weake my Mind amazd And ere that Pencill halfe them had exprest Love had them drawn no grav'd them in my Brest Campaspe ON Stars shall I exclaime Which thus my Fortune change Or shall I else revenge Upon my selfe this shame Inconstant Monarch or shall I thee blame Who lets Apelles prove The sweet Delights of Alexanders Love No Stars my selfe and thee I all forgive And Joyes that thus I live Of thee blind King my Beauty was despis'd Thou didst not know it now being known 't is priz'd Cornucopia IF for one only Horne Which Nature to him gave So famous is the noble Unicorne What praise should that Man have Whose Head a Lady brave Doth with a goodly paire at once adorne Love suffers no Parasol THose Eyes deare Eyes be Spheares Where two bright Suns are roll'd That faire Hand to behold Of whitest Snow appeares Then while ye coyly stand To hide from me those Eyes Sweet I would you advise To chuse some other fanne than that white Hand For if ye do for truth most true this know Those Suns ere long must needs consume warme Snow Unpleasant Musick IN fields Ribaldo stray'd Mayes Tapestry to see And hearing on a Tree A Cuckow sing sigh'd to himselfe and said Loe how alas even Birds sit mocking me Sleeping Beauty O Sight too dearely bought Shee sleeps and though those Eyes Which lighten Cupids Skies Be clos'd yet such a grace Environeth that Place That I through Wonder to grow faint am brought Suns if ecclips'd you have such power divine What power have I t' endure you when you shine Alcons Kisse WHat others at their Eare Two Pearles Camilla at her Nose did weare Which Alcon who nought saw For Love is blind robb'd with a pretty Kisse But having known his misse And felt what Ore he from that Mine did draw When she to come again did him desire He fled and said foule Water quenched Fire The Statue of Venus sleeping PAssenger vexe not thy Mind To make me mine Eyes unfold For if thou shouldst them behold Thine perhaps they will make blind Laura to Petrarch I Rather love a Youth and childish Rime Than thee whose Verse and Head are wise through Time The Rose FLow'r which of Adons Bloud Sprang when of that cleare Floud Which Venus wept another white was borne The sweet Cynarean Youth thou lively shows But this sharpe-pointed Thorne So proud about thy Crimsin Folds that grows What doth it represent Boares Teeth perhaps his milk-white Flanke which rent O show in one of unesteemed Worth That both the kill'd and killer setteth forth A Lovers Prayer NEare to a Christall Spring With Thirst and Heat opprest Narcissa faire doth rest Trees pleasant Trees which those green plains forth bring Now interlace your trembling Tops above And make a Canopy unto my Love So in Heavens highest House when Sun appeares Aurora may you cherish with her Teares Iolas Epitaph HEre deare Iolas lies Who whilst he liv'd in Beauty did surpasse That Boy whose heavenly Eyes Brought Cypris from above Or him to death who look'd in watry Glasse Even Judge the God of Love And if the Nymph once held of him so deare Dorine the faire would here but shed one Teare Thou shouldst in Natures scorne A Purple Flow'r see of this Marble borne The Trojan Horse A Horse I am who bit Reine rod Spur do not feare When I my Riders beare Within my Wombe not on my Back they sit No streames I drinke nor care for Grasse or Corne Art me a Monster wrought All Natures workes to scorne A Mother I was without Mother borne In end all arm'd my Father I forth brought What thousand Ships and Champions of renowne Could not do free captiv'd I raz'd Troy's Town For Dorus. WHy Nais stand ye nice Like to a well wrought Stone When Dorus would you kisse Denie him not that blisse He 's but a Child old Men be Children twice And even a Toothlesse one And when his Lips yours touch in that delight Ye need not feare he will those Cherries bite Love vagabonding SWeet Nymphs if as ye stray Ye find the froth-borne Goddesse of the Sea All blubb'red pale undone Who seeks her giddy Son That little God of Love Whose golden shafts your chastests Bosomes prove Who leaving all the Heavens hath run away If ought to him that finds him she 'll impart Tell her he nightly lodgeth in my Heart To a River SIth She will not that I She to the World my Joy Thou who oft mine annoy Hast heard deare Floud tell Thetis if thou can That not a happier Man Doth breathe beneath the Skie More sweet more white more faire Lips Hands and Amber Haire Tell none did ever touch A smaller daintier Waste Tell never was embrac't But peace since she forbids thee tell too much Lida SVch Lida is that who her sees Through Envy or through Love straight dies Phraene A Onian Sisters help my Phraenes Praise to tell Phraene heart of my heart with whom the Graces dwell For I surcharged am so sore that I not know What first to praise of 〈…〉 Brest or Neck of Snow Her Cheeks with Roses spred or her two Sun-like Eyes Her teeth of brightest pearl her lips where Sweetnes lies But those so praise themselves being to all Eyes set forth That Muses ye need not to say ought of their Worth Then her white swelling Paps essay for to make known But her white swelling paps through smallest vail are shown Yet She hath something else more worthy than the rest Not seen go sing of that which lies beneath her brest And mounts like fair Parnasse where Pegasse well doth run Here Phraene stay'd my Muse ere she had well begun Kisses desired THough I with strange Desire To kisse those rosie Lips am set on fire Yet will I cease to crave Sweet kisses in such store As he who long before In thousands them from Lesbia did receive Sweet heart but once me kisse And I by that sweet blisse Even sweare to cease you to importune more Poore one no number is Another Word of me ye shall not