Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	dare_v	fair_a	great_a	71	3	2.1037	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A43693	London drollery, or, The wits academy being a select collection of the newest songs, lampoons, and airs alamode : with several other most ingenious peices [sic] of railery, never before published / by W.H.	Hicks, William, fl. 1671.	1673 (1673)	Wing H1887A; ESTC R4745	41,718	138

you toucht had weight Above her great reason sate which did controul The expanding vigour of his mighty Soul Which like a fermentation else had broke The pollish'd cask before this fatal stroke True courage now it was upon whose wings He clim'd the Tragick stage and dar'd such things That Mars himself no sooner saw but sent In fire and smoke to him a Complemement But spightful Death who in an ambush lay In this great Tragedy to chuse his prey Had hid himself within that Cloud of Smoke That Mars had sent and gave that fatal stroke By which he fell yet honourably dy'd In 's Countries Service by his Princes side His Soul then being fled to whom 't was due A contest here then about his body grew The Earth claim'd it as hers and had prepar'd In her own bowels to have it there inter'd But Neptune greedy of so great a prize Did bounce and foam and at the Deck did rise To demand his Dead at which the tall Ship bow'd her lofty Head and Sails and all For nothing else could Neptunes wrath appease But that same body to adorn his Seas At which the Marble wept and does weep yet Cause that his Name 's not in her Forehead writ On the Death of the Earl of Sandwich IS Sandwich dead Is that brave Hero gone Of Englands Architect the corner Stone Did he not think his dearest blood to dear To spend for us and we deny a tear Let 's give him that which we cannot deny To an expiring Valiant Enemy Let 's drain our eyes and make him float again In our Salt tears as once upon the Main Let every one give honour to his Hearse And every Poet cast on it a Verse But O brave Sandwich whose Pen must that be That on thy Death can write an Elegie Thou dy'st not like a Mortal and if so What Mortals Pen to write thy Death doth know The Obsequious Lover A SONG 1. VVHen I contemplate on thy parts My dear Corrinna I despair Because thou' rt Mistress of all hearts And all expect to have a share 2. How then can I expect to find So much as one good look from thee Since all that know thee are so kind Thy Votaries they Vow to be 3. One for thy Voice admires thee much Another for thy Dancing to But if a Lute thou chance to touch They stand amaz'd and cannot go 4. A third admires thy sparkling eyes That shine like Diamonds in the night A fourth doth praise thy lips likewise Being of a Ruby colour right 5. A fifth sets forth thy ruddy cheek As being of so pure a hue That when for Roses they do seek There they 're found as if there they grew 6. A sixth admires thy Swan-like skin A seventh doth praise thy foot and hand Another so thy neck and chin A ninth thy waste which may be span'd 7. A tenth thy hair and other parts To share 'em all they do agree On which they all do fix their hearts But yet I hope thy heart is free 8. Grant me but that Corrinna then 'T is only that which I do crave I shall be happiest of all men If I may live and die thy Slave The Prologue to Arvicagus and Felicia YOu are Trapand Invited to a Play Which e're half done you 'l with your selves away T is long 't is sad nay you must mark the Plot Then Court not Vizard Masques or Censure not Some think if they had known as much before They would have made Abatement at the door We 'll do it yet but now I think I 'le stay For he that took your mony 's gone away Something would yet be done e're we begin Well to an old Play you have a new Prologue in That 's more then promised What if both be ill Where are we then we are your debtors still To quit scores take full liberty to day To Censure lowd the Actors and the Play But at another time when the Play is good Sit Silent that we may be understood Your Pardons Gentlemen 'las 't is not we That dare Impose though Poets sawcy be For we confess 't is very just and fit When they shew none you should Proclaim your wit Take your full Licence as you us'd to do But find just faults or else they 'l censure you On a Shrew SShrew being blam'd because she shew'd Not so much Reverence as by right she ow'd Unto her Husband She reply'd she might Forbear then complaint of me I do him right His will is mine he would bear Rule and I Desire the same only by Sympathy The Prologue to the Widdow NOw that the Season of the War is past We well had hop'd to see you here at last But you this Winter find out other ways To kill your selves and to destroy our Plays You meet in Masquerade to pass your time Without the help of Reason or of Rime You talk and cheat each other in disguise And draw ten blanks of Beauty for one prize Were Visor of and all were bound to come And shew your homely Faces in the Room Each one would cry to see the rest appear Now what the Dev'l do these damn'd faces here Then he who seem'd a Lord in that dumb show Prove some young Spark of Pater-Noster-Row And she who in disguise appear'd so pretty Turns up her Masque and shews the Orange Betty Thus tir'd with want of pleasure home we creep And all next day you lie a Bed and sleep Mean time our empty Seats your absence mourn We sigh but Poets think of you with scorn For Courting still your selves you seem to say That you Heaven Love you have more wit then they And that one Sceen o' th' Couch is worth a Play The Epilogue to the Widdow THe Stage is like a Gaming-house where you Still throw at all we bring more old then new And you of late have so succesful bin That to our cost what e're we set you win But now we so much cunning understand To loose but little and to starve your hand We butter not but take the safest way To set you a small sum a poor old Play If you are kind throw out for this one stake For faith 't is all we can at present make The Poets and the Players now are poor But in our next new house we 'l set you more A Song in the Dutch Lovers 1. A Myntas led me to a Grove Where all the Trees did shade us The Sun it self though it had strove It could not have betray'd us The place secur'd from humane Eyes No other fear allows But when the Winds that gently rise Do kill the yielding Boughs 2. Down there we sat upon the Moss And did begin to play A thousand wanton tricks to pass The heat of all the day A many Kisses he did give And I receiv'd the same Which made me willing to receive That which I dare not name 3. His Charming Eyes no aid requir'd To tell their Amorous Tale On her that was

end He cry'd her mercy said he could not look It was so dark and thought he had mistook No said the Bride most sweetly then y' are right As if our Taper here were burning bright They bust and kist and bust agen and kist And she though Palsy head it seldom mist They both now fill'd with Ale brains in 't did steep So Arms in Arms our Lovers fell asleep So for the will though nothing else indeed To Love the Beggars built a Piramide The Epilogue to the Beggars Wedding TOth ' Beggars Trade I 've serv'd 2 Prentiships For which I know I 've tasted several whips Give your advice d' ye think I now am made Free o' th' Beggars Company and the Trade My mind in secret to your ear I speak Is such as I am sure I shall not break Unless in passion when no meat I get When Belly-timber wants 't will make one fret For otherwise when abroad I lead my Scorta We each may say Omnia mea mecum porta And being Philosophers there 's none will scant Their pittance to us that we ne'r shall want Then let Boreas burst his cheeks anth ' Sea roar The Beggars bark can ne'r be tumbled o'r What fitter subject for my Muse can be Than make Descriptions of our company But being in hast and for some causes vext I 'll cease and happily may say more i' th' next For the Beggars theam too well my fortunes fit My Fancy's beggarly too faith and so 's my wit TWo Lords 4 Knights 3 Squires and I the least My kind Friend Willy bids unto his feast Where was both fish and flesh and all such cates Which men are wont to have that feast great states To pay for which next day he sold his Nag Of whose swift pace he used much to brag Well I 'll ne'r care for red and fallow Deer If that a Horse so Cook'd make so good cheer A Song 1. T Is true fair Phillis heretofore I your Beauty did adore And gave my Captive heart a prize To the conquest of your eyes 2. But since that you so cruel prove To reject my chastest love And do wound me by disdain Give me back my heart again 3. Although I 'm sure I cannot be Contented with my liberty I am resolved to submit To good old Sack to cherrish it On his fair but faithless Mistress GO perjur'd Wretch women I 'll court no more Since Delia false doth prove who always swore In true affection she would constant prove Yet now forgets mine for anothers love Now every feature which appear'd to me So beautiful is meer deformity Her face which heretofore Angels outride Is Leprous with her falshood and her pride Then since no constancy in Women can Be found I 'll make my-Amours to a man A Song 1. I Dye and yet I dare not speak To her who doth my passion move This thought alone my heart doth break To know I dare not own my Love When e'r I see her charming eyes I straight become her Sacrifice She 's fair which makes me doubt she 'l prove So cruel to reject my love 2. Upon this Altar of my heart Love's pure and chastest flames do burn When Love and Death shall act their part If she but look within my Urn. Engraven on my heart she 'l see The Idea of her my Deitie My Epitaph shall be my fate My Love made me unfortunate The Jealous Girl mistaken in a Dialogue between Menalcas and Licoris 1. HEre here my fair Licoris Sit thee down thy weary'd Limbs to rest Where drooping Violets so like thy self Have made for thee a Nest Grass for our Sheep here store is And a shade the Sun can ne'r infest As dark and gloomy as the greif Wherewith thou seem'st so sore opprest Now let me know The cause of thy dear Woe Whose precious Food Is of thy Tears and Blood And for whose nourishment Thy self thou near hast spent 2. Menalcas dost thou ask it Need the root inquire what Fruit it bears Thou wer 't the Spring of all my Joys And Fountain Art of all my Tears Therefore do no more Mask it Pitty Friend worse then true scorn appears I shortly shall be gone and with me yours And your Faith Phillis fears 'T is she False man Makes me so pale and wan So sorrow slain With that she wept amain And hung her gentle head Like to a Lilly dead 3. With that the Shepheard moved Both his eyes and hands to Heaven he heav'd His spotless faith he vow'd and she Alas unhappily deceav'd That he ne'r Phillis Loved More then ripe ears do love the stormy wind But in Licoris all his hopers Eternally should be confin'd Quoth she fie fie Add no more perjury I saw the Band Of our true Loves on her hand The Ring I thee first gave Sav'd thy life and dig'd my grave 4. With that the Shepheard smiled In his heart glad that he could untie With so much ease the knot of poor Licoris headless Jealousie My Life thou art beguiled Quoth the Swain with that the Ring pull'd out Yet seeming reason some there was For this thy but too loving doubt For Corydon By thy Ring made her one Like as the Lambs Mistaken by their Dams But this is thine and I More for it till I die 5. Long sate the Girl ashamed 'Till at last about his Neck she stole Her Arm then Venus belt a better Cord to hold a wavering Soul Her Jealousie she blamed In his brest she hid her bashful head And whisper'd to his heart that if He lov'd her not she was but dead That no man ere To her was half so dear His Pardon pray'd Yet being sore afraid To loose so sweet a friend Had almost wrought her end 6. Menalcas then embrac'd her Protesting that he lov'd her well before But now he vow'd that nought but Death should ever part 'em more Now he in 's heart had plac'd her Cause she for love of him was brought so low There 's nought but too much love I find Has wrought Licoris overthrow For Jealousie There 's no man can deny Though grown a weed But to come of noble seed And no where to be found But in Loves richest ground On his Beautiful Mistriss To my M. B. quintescence of Beauty I John Thump does present my duty MY dearest Maudlin dain me at this time Thy incomparable parts to blaze in modest rime That all hereafter which shall hear thy Story Will say that 't is to thy Immortal glory O thou that able art to take to task all Pox what will rime to that I am a Rascal If I know 't is no matter but for thy credit I 've pen'd a Poem Prethee tak 't and read it Thou need'st not be asham'd of 't for it raises Trophies as high as Maypoles to thy praises And first in order it thy head doth handle That 's more obicular than a Quadrangle O' th' top of which doth grow a tuft of tresses Winter her self array'd

two among the rest But they their number henceforth cannot bear For O. and N. are buried in a Chest Had O. been gone no man had it repented And then it would full well have been for us But O. N.'s gone which is to be lamented So Fortune's to us much preposterous Owen let School-boys glory in thy fall Because they have two Letters less to con For two and twenty now is onely all By means of which they oft will save their Bum. Whil'st we 'll condole thy Death since by 't we get A Lam'd Christs Cross and a Crippled Alphabet On Great Tom of Christ-Church his being newly Cast BE dumb you Infant-Chimes thump not your Mettle That ne'er out-rings the Tinker and his Kettle Cease all you petty Larums for to day 'T is Great Tom's Resurrection from the Clay And know where Tom rings out his loudest knells The best of you will be but Dinner-Bells And for thy meritorious suffering Thou shortly shalt to Heaven in a string We much are griev'd because we see thee cast As being not well yet hope the worst is past Some say it was because thy Brain was crack'd If it be so then well done was the fact And though some Cains have made A Bell of thee Thou't Clapper-claw 'em when thou once art free Thou't thunder out at nine a Clock such noise Will make the Schollars all to dread thy voice And after Thunder fierce Lightning then may come From Proctor or Vice Chancellor Hasten home Well dearest Tom I 'll take my leave of thee And think e'er long thou 't be too high for me And for thy sins did'st fall as low as Clay And through a fiery Trial did'st run they say To clear thy jarring temper which was sore Against thy will as being hoarse before And coming down dear Tom to learn to sing A better Note we hope thou 't make it ring In all our Ears thou mended hast thy voice 'T will make the Schollars unless at nine a Clock rejoyce Nay 't will please the hearts of all good People Whence once thou' rt lifted up into the Steeple Unless Fanaticks who regard it not a Louse Whatever cometh from the Steeple-house And though we grieve to see thee thump'd and bang'd Yet all rejoyce great Tom to see thee hang'd The Maids Complaint 1. IT was i' th' merry month of May When ev'ry thing look'd fresh and gay I heard a Maid complain and say Her Mother she had done her mickle wrong For suffering her to live a Maid so long 2. Then she began to sigh and groan To ring her hands and make great moan ' Cause she poor heart was left alone And no kind Soul would ever pity her pain For her Maidenheads loss would prove to her a gain 3. I nimbly then did step unto her And presently became a Woer And that of me she should be sure Would give her a dose should her malady quell But still she vow'd she 'd ne'er lead Apes in Hell 4. Then to Courting I began And told her I would be the Man Though before she look'd both pale and wan Yet now in her cheeks a colour 'gan to rise But still she said Pray Sir be merry and wise 5. What was done I must not tell But yet I found she lik'd it well Because sh'd ne'er lead Apes in Hell And then of Kisses she gave me such plenty That one of mine produc'd the number twenty 6. I then began to haste away But she in kindness pray'd me stay I bid her 'point another day She told me then to morrow pray come hither That so we may our Notes compare together On a Parsimonious Sheriff of Oxford FIe Schollars fie have you such thirsty Souls To swig quaff carouse ' i th' Sheriffs Bowls Tell me mad Youngsters what do you believe D' ye think it cost him nothing to be Shrieve To send so many Beefes so many Weathers Maintain so many Hats so many Feathers Again is Malt so cheap this pinching year That you should make such havock of his Beer I hear you are so many that you make Most of his Men turn Tapsters for your sake And yet when he even at the Bench doth sit You tear his Meat from off the borrow'd Spit And keep such hurly-burly as it passes In gurgitating sometimes whole half Glasses And some of you forsooth are grown so fine Or else so sawcy as to call for Wine As if the Sheriff had put men in trust Which durst draw out more Wine than needs they must In faith in faith it is not well my Masters Nor fit that you should be the Sheriffs Tasters It were enough you are such Gormandizers To make the Sheriffs henceforth all turn Misers Or to remove the Assize to th' Towns Disgrace To Banbury Henly or else some such place He never had complain'd had it but been A pretty Firkin or a Kilderkin But when a Barrel daily is drunk out My Masters then 't is time to look about Is this a lye d' ye think I tell you no My Lord High Chancellour was informed so And O what would not all the Bread in Town Suffice to drive the Sheriffs Liquor down But he in Hampers must from home it bring O most prodigious O most monstrous thing Upon so many Loaves of Home-made Bread How long might he and his ten men have fed Which he no doubt intended to have fed With the sweet Morsels of his broken Bread But when that they poor Souls for Bread did call Answer was made The Schollars eat up all And when of broken Beer he crav'd a Cup Answer was made The Schollars drank it up And this I know not how they chang'd the Name Cut did the Deed and Longtail bears the blame The Speech of a Mayor of a Town when a King came there GReat King to bid Thee welcome behold I Do speak to Thee although my mouth stand by I 'll do my best but he can do much better He is Book-learn'd I never knew a Letter When yesterday the Post did Tidings bring That I should see You here our Royal King For my own part into an Ague I did fall And greatly gasped with my Brethren all But least your Majesty should think us slack Each one of us did drink a Pint of Sack Armour of Proof the best thing we could find To chear our heart and ease our troubled mind We went about to muster up our forces To meet You but indeed we wanted Horses Our Foot-Cloths also with Rats and Mice offended In so short space could not be patch'd and mended Therefore this Stage which holds us here at large Was wisely founded at the Towns own charge These men in Scarlet that you plainly see Have been in highest place of Majesty The other Purple Gowns that do appear Are like to wear my Staff another year The Streets that you do pass on either hand Are sweetly flowr'd with Gravel and with Sand. The Conduit at the Cross if you mark well Is