Selected quad for the lemma: earth_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
earth_n	body_n	heaven_n	soul_n	16,244	5	5.2792	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A52813	A key (with the whip) to open the mystery & iniquity of the poem called, Absalom & Achitophel shewing its scurrilous reflections upon both king and kingdom.	Ness, Christopher, 1621-1705.	1682 (1682)	Wing N457; ESTC R20391	13,093	25

find Or was 't because Apollo and his Muses Had Worm'd thy Tongue to work off thy Abuses Or was 't the Oil of Crab Tree which Anoints As in Rose-Ally once thy nasty Joints No better Antidote is found to fetch That plaguy poison out of th' Whiffling-Wretch If this Beasts Tongue be not cut out and dri'd Or th' Head hang'd up in Tyburn Tippit ti'd Why dost thou not thy Parable pursue Make this Earl hang himself a Death his due Were he so base as thy Achitophel Not hope for Heaven nor yet fear an Hell No no thy after-wit in th' Earl espi'd Instead of Sadling's Ass and him Bestride His Anger he could bridle all Affronts He calmly puts up never vengeance Haunts Though harmless to himself not conscious Not as Judge Belknap Self-condemn`d said thus There only wants an Hurdle Horse and Halter To do me right and present State to Alter Had such despairing phrenzy him subdu'd Such Hony-drops thy malice had bedew'd Thy Romanizing mind Romantick Eye Had glutted been with this sad Tragedy No less had been had th' Jury found the Bill By th' Fatal Ax his Noble Blood to Spill Had th' Deed been done by Self or by Jack Ketch It Canoniz'd would be a Romish Fetch But both's defeated now 's thy After Game Seeing his Sun break forth from th' Cloud of Shame With twelve inserted Lines t' Insinuate Whom before this thou didst Recriminate Why dost not thou hang up thy Absolon Upon some forked Oak that Rebel-Son Hung by the Head between the Earth and Heaven Both scorn'd that Wretch a lump of Cursed Leaven The Oak's his Throne and twisted Hair his Crown Three Darts through's Heart his Scepter of Renown Thus art thou lame in both thy Parallels Thy Absoloms and thy Achitophels Thy Similies run not Upon four feet Are foully founderd and do lamely meet What ever likeness in their Heads may be Yet do their Feet most grosly disagree Nor have their Bodies better Harmony Nor in thy Zimri happier is thy Hit Whom Buckingham thou basely makes to Fit Thy Monmouths Type is a base publick pest Whose foulest Soul 's in a fair Body drest And an Incorrigible PARRICIDE Whom Heav'n and Earth a Room at last deny'd Next this Duke with thy Dirt must be defil'd As if his Grace most Graceless were and vil'd And having lost all 's love to 's Israel Which of th' two Zimri's He 's thou canst not tell Not Cozhi's Rogue he is nor Ela's Traitor Neither of these agree in mode or matter The first that cursed Simeonite he 's not Who brought on Israel that flagrant Blot By Balaams Counsel He was Young this old He hug'd Outlandish this true English Mold A Foreign Whore and a Domestick Wife Differs them much in Law as well as Life He and his Whore in th flagrancy of Lust By Phinehas Javelin were both thorow thrust Thy Sagan Phinehas never durst shew Such Vengeance on this Zimri bold and true To th' English Interest no Popish chatter Therefore thou dost so fouly him bespatter Suppose him too extravagant and kind Still hath he a right Noble English Mind Thou coins fine Speeches for thy Absalon For thy Achitophel still drolling on Why dost not thou as old Iosephus doth Coin a fine Speech for thy False Zimri's both 'Gainst God and Moses palliate his Sin And boldly Mann his Crime through thick and thin Zimri in Hebrew cut off signifies As th' Vine's superfluous Branches pruned lies This Graceful English Vine-branch stands upright Still uncut off by Romish Rage and Spight Though he affronteth them in Deed and Word Saying fond Romanists do eat their Lord Could they but eat the Devil too said He A Romanist with th' first I 'le surely be Thy wanton Zimri was old Salu's Son That is trod under foot in th' Hebrew Tongue His Name and Fate harmoniously agree Yet on this Duke no such Fate canst thou see Cozbi his Whore in Hebrew is a lie His Dutchess to be such all will deny Cozbi a lie was Balaams Tool to draw Israel from God and from his Holy Law But canst thou say Balaam of Rome hath us'd His Dutchess and by her his lies transfus'd Thus no congruity collateral Can correspond this Parallel at all If th' Duke be not th' first Zimri th' second less His Masters Murtherer in Drunkenness As cruel to himself as to his Master Burns th' House o're his own Head no such disaster Befalls this Noble Duke whom thou despises And as thy Fellow scoundrel Scandalizes Blacks him with lines blacker with Hell than Ink Him worse Buffoon than thee to make Men think Beggerd by Fools and to b' enrich'd by Knaves The first are weak the latter Wicked Slaves But who 's the Fool that dare a Star so spatter For all thy Guinnies with thy stinking blatter Were 't not below so great a luminary To mark such Barking Curs thy case wou'd vary There 's noise in Town of a strange Whipping Tom But th' greatest noise makes this true whipping Iohn The first t is said doth only Women whip This would make Men yea greatest Men to skip Under his Lashes but they scorn his worst Wellknowing he of all Men is accurst Right Son of Ishmael whose Hand 's against All Men yea great Men ne're so high Advanc'd Next he falls foul on th' brave Lord Huntington Whom he calls Well-hung Balaam in Derision As if this Patriot were th' old Priapus Whom th' Poets feign vastly Venereous But why a Balaam must he called be I never heard him blam'd for Sorcery Nor ever that my Lord a Prophet was Or that he us'd to ride upon an Ass The hit lays here one Rhiming Ass Reproves him Another railing Ass with Kicks be Hoofs him Publishing slanders as to be believ'd Had not three Noble Peers his truth retriev'd By Balaam Balak th' Rabbies represents Rome's Church in Priestly and in Regal Tents Thou 'st got thy Balaam though not of th' right Coat But where 's thy Balak Rogers Romish Goat Next comes the Noble Earl of Essex and Is call'd by thee cold Caleb as his Brand But why since Caleb is a name of note 'T is Hebrew Hearty and doth well denote This Hearty lover of his Liege and Land What e're black-mouths to th' contrary him brand Yet Cordial ●aleb is reproach'd as cold Is it because for Children he 's too old Or is it cause He is not in Gods stead To give himself an Heir on th' Marriage bed Sure I am that his Zeal's not cold for good Both for the Cross and Harp he briskly stood We will suppose him cold to Popish tricks To th' damn'd Designs of Rome he cannot fix Next comes to be traduc'd that Noble Lord Howard of Escrick whom he can afford No better name than Canting Nadab though Both his Abilities and Interest Men know Yet damns he him into Oblivions Grave Who would a sinking King and Kingdom save Here once again this quibling Poet