Selected quad for the lemma: england_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
england_n	earl_n	lord_n	sir_n	21,670	5	6.9416	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B09731	The beau's academy, or, The modern and genteel way of wooing and complementing after the most courtly manner in which is drawn to the life, the deportment of most accomplished lovers, the mode of their courtly entertainments, the charms of their persuasive language in their addresses or more secret dispatches, to which are added poems, songs, letters of love and others : proverbs, riddles, jests, posies, devices, with variety of pastimes and diversions as cross-purposes, the lovers alphabet &c. also a dictionary for making rhimes, four hundred and fifty delightful questions with their several answers together with a new invented art of logick : so plain and easie that the meanest capacity may in a short time attain to a perfection of arguing and disputing.	Phillips, Edward, 1630-1696?	1699 (1699)	Wing P2064; ESTC R181771	227,423	431

rivals to your wit Unthriftily you throw away The pleasures of your beauties sway Which loosely scatter'd so on many Securely fastens not on any And then your beauty doth discover Many that gaze but ne're a Lover And your so greedy hands destroy What you would your self enjoy So Princes by Ambition thirsty grown In chase of many Kingdoms lose their own YOU must suppose it to be Easter Holy-days for now Sisly and Dol Kate and Peggie Moll and Nan are marching to Westminster with a Lease of Apprentices before them who go rowing themselves along with their right Arms to make more haste and now and then with a greasie Muckender wipe away the dripping that bastes their foreheads At the door they meet a croud of Wapping Sea-men Southwark Broom-men the Inhabitants of the Bank-side and a Butcher or two prickt in among them there a while they stand gaping for the Master of the Shew staring upon the Suburbs of their delight just as they view the painted Cloth before they go in to the Puppet-play by and by they hear the Keys which rejoyces their hearts like the sound of the Pancake-bell for now the Man of comfort peeps over the spikes and beholding such a learned auditory opens the Gates of Paradise and by that time they are half got into the first Chappel for time is then very precious he lifts up his voice among the Tombs and begins his lurry in manner and form following HEre lies Will. de Valence a right good Earl of Pembroke And this is his monument which you see I 'le swear upon a Book He was High Marshal of England when Harry the Third did raign But this you may take upon my word that he 'l ne're be so again Here the Lord Edward Talbot lies the Town of Shrewsbury's Earle together with his Countess fair that was a delicate Girle The next to him there lieth one Sir Richard Peck shall hight Of whom we always first do say he was a Hampshire Knight And now to tell the more of him there lies under this stone His two Wives and his Daughters four of whom I knew not one Sir Bernard Brockhurst there doth lie Lord Chamberlain to Queen Ann Queen Ann was Richard the Second's Queen and he was King of Englan Sir Francis Hollis the Lady Frances the same was Suffolks Dutchess Two children of Edward the Third lie here in Deaths cold clutches This is King Edward the Third's brother of whom our Records tell Nothing of note nor say they whether he be in Heaven or Hell This same was John of Eldeston he was no Costermonger But Cornwals Earl And here 's one dy'd ' cause she could live no longer The Lady Mohum Dutches of York and Duke of York's Wife also But Death resolving to cuckold the Duke made her lie with him here below The Lady Ann Ross but note thee well that she in child-bed dy'd The Lady Marquess of Winchester lies buried by her side Now think your penny well spent good folks and that ye are not beguil'd Within this Cup doth lie the heart of a French Embassadours Child Nor can I tell how came to pass on purpose or by chance The bowels they lie underneath the body is in France There 's Oxford's Countess and there also the Lady Burley her Mother And there her Daughter a Countess too lie close one by another These once were bonny Dames and though there were no Coaches then Yet could they jog their tails themselves or had them jogg'd by men But wo is me these High-born sinners that strutted once so stoutly Are now laid low and cause they can't Their statues pray devoutly This is the Dutchess of Somerset by name the Lady Ann Edward the Sixth her Lord protected and he carried himself like a man In this fair Monument which you see adorn'd with so many Pillars Doth lie the Countess of Buckingham and her Husband Sir George Villars This old Sir George was Grandfather the Countess she was Granny To the great Duke of Buckingham who often fox'd King Jammy Sir Robert Eatam a Scotch Knight this man was Secretary And scribled Complements for two Queens Queen Ann and eke Queen Mary This was the Countess of Lenox I clep'd the Lady Marget King Jame's Grandmother but yet ' gainst death she had no Target This was Queen Mary Queen of Scots whom Buchanan doth bespatter She lost her head at Fothringham whatever was the matter The Mother of our Seventh Henry this is that lieth hard by She was the Countess wot ye well of Richmond and of Darby Harry the Seventh himself lies here with his fair Queen beside him He was the Founder of this Chappel Oh! may no ill betide him Therefore his Monument's in brass you 'l say that very much is The Duke of Richmond and Lenox there lieth with his Dutchess And here they stand upright in a Press with bodies made of wax With a Globe and a Wand in either hand and their Robes upon their backs Here lies the Duke of Buckingham and the Dutchess his Wife Whom Felton stab'd at Portsmouth Town and so he lost his life Two Children of King James these are which Death keeps very chary Sophia in the Cradle lies and this is the Lady Mary And this is Queen Elizabeth How the Spaniards did infest her Here she lies buried with Queen Mary and now she agrees with her Sister To another Chappel now come we the people follow and chat This is the Lady Cottington and the people cry Who 's that This is the Lady Frances Sidney The Countess of Sussex is she And this the Lord Dudley Carleton is and then they look up and see Sir Thomas Bromley lieth here Death would not him reprieve With his four Sons and Daughters four yet I heard no body grieve The next is Sir John Tullerton and this is his Lady I trow And this is Sir John Duckering with his fine Bed-fellow That 's Earl of Bridgewater in the middle who makes no use of his bladder Although his Countess lies so near him and so we go up a ladder King Edward the First that gallant blade lies underneath this stone And this is the Chair which he did bring a good while ago from Scone In this same Chair till now of late our Kings and Queens were crown'd Under this Chair another stone doth lie upon the ground On that same stone did Jacob sleep instead of a doun Pillow And after that 't was hither brought by some good honest Fellow Richard the Second he lies here and his first Queen Queen Ann. Edward the Third lies here hard by I there was a gallant man For this was his two-handed Sword a Blade both true and trusty The French mens blood was ne're wip'd off which makes it look so rusty He lies here again with his Queen Philip A Dutch Woman by Record But that 's all one for now alas his Blade's not so long as his Sword King Edward the Confessor lies within this Monument fine

I 'me sure quoth one a worser Tomb must serve both me and mine Harry the Fifth lies there And there doth lie Queen Elenore To our first Edward she was Wife which is more then ye knew before Henry the Third lies there entomb'd he was Herb John in Pottage Little he did but still reign'd on although his Sons were at age Fifty six years he reigned King ere he the Crown would lay by Only we praise him ' cause he was last Builder of this Abby Here Thomas Cecil lies Who 's that why 't is the Earl of Exeter And this his Countess is to die how it perplexed her Life's sweet Here Henry Cary Lord Hunsdon rests what a noise a makes with his name He was Lord Chamberlain unto Queen Elizabeth of great fame And here one William Colchester lies of a certainty An Abbot he was of Westminster and he that says no doth lie Plain dealing 's a Jewel This is the Bishop of Durham by Death here laid in Fetters Henry the Seventh lov'd him well and made him write his Letters Sir Thomas Ruthat what of him poor Gentleman not a word Only they buried him here But now behold that man with a Sword Humphrey de Boliun who though he were not born with me in the same Town Yet I can tell he was Earl of Essex of Hereford and Northampton He was High Constable of England as History well expresses But now pretty Maids be of good chear we are going up to the Presses And now the Presses open stand and ye see them all arow But more is never said of these than what is said below Henry the Seventh and his fair Queen Edward the First and his Queen Henry the Fifth here stands upright and his fair Queen was this Queen The noble Prince Prince Henry King James's eldest Son He does not run atilt King James Queen Ann Queen Elizabeth and so this Chappel's done Now down the stairs come we again the man goes first with a staff Perchance one tumbles down two steps and then the people laugh This is the great Sir Francis Vere That so the Spaniards curri'd Four Collonels support his Arms and here his Body 's buried That statue against the wall with one eye is Major General Norrice He had two eyes if he could have kept them He beat the Spaniards cruelly as is affirm'd in Stories His six Sons there hard by him stand each one was a Commander To shew he could his Lady serve as well as the Hollander And there doth Sir John Hollis rest who was the Major General To Sir John Norrice that brave blade and so they go to Dinner all For now the Shew is at an end all things are done and said The Citizen pays for his Wife The Prentice for the Maid The Hector's Farewell GOod people all I pray give ear my words concern ye much I will relate a Hector's life pray God ye be not such There was a Gallant in the Town a brave and jolly Sporter There was no Lady in the Land but he knew how to court her His person comely was and tall more comely have been few men Which made him well beloved of men but more belov'd of women Besides all this I can you tell that he was well endow'd With many graces of the mind Which Heav'n on him bestow'd He was as liberal as the Sun his Gold he freely spent Whether it were his own Estate or that it were him lent For valor he a Lion was I say a Lion bold For he did fear no living man that Sword in hand did hold And when that he with glittring blade did e're assail his foes Full well I trow they did not miss their belly full of blows A Frenchman once assaulted him and told him that he ly'd For which with Quart-pot he him flew And so the French man dy'd Three Danes six Germans and five Swedes met him in Lane of Drury Who cause they took of him the Wall did kill them in his fury Upon his body I have heard full many a scar he bore His skin did look like Sattin pinckt with gashes many a score Oh had he lost that noble blood For Countries liberty Where could all England then have found so brave a man as he But wo is me these vertues great were all eclips'd with vice Just so the Sun that now shines bright Is darkned in a trice For he did swagger drink and game indeed what would he not His Psalter and his Catechize he utterly forgot But he is gone and we will let no more of him be said They say 't is nought to reveal The vices of the dead Beside we have some cause to think that he may scape tormenting For the old Nurse that wach'd with him did say he dy'd repenting The Second Part. FArewell three Kings where I have spent full many an idle hour Where oft I won but ne're did lose if it were within my power Where the raw Gallants I did chuse like any Ragamuffin But now I 'me sick and cannot play who 'l trust me for a Coffin Farewel my dearest Piccadilly Notorious for great Dinners Oh what a Tennis Court was there alas too good for sinners Farewel Spring-garden where I us'd to piss before the Ladies Poor Souls who 'l be their Hector now to get 'em pretty Babies Farewel the glory of Hide-Park which was to me so dear Now since I can't enjoy it more would I were buried there Farewel tormenting Creditors whose scores did so perplex me Well! Death I see for something 's good for now you 'l cease to vex me Farewel true brethren of the Sword all Martial men and stout Farewel dear Drawer at the Fleece I cannot leave thee out My time draws on I now must go from this beloved light Remember me to pretty Sue and so dear friends good night With that on Pillow low he laid his pale and drooping head And straight e're Cat could lick her ear poor Hector he was dead Now God bless all that will be blest God bless the Inns of Courts And God bless Davenants Opera which is the sport of sports On the Death of Jo. W. WHen rich men die whose purses swell with silver and with gold They straight shall have a Monument their memories to uphold Yet all that men can say of them they lived so unknown Is but to write upon their Tombs here lieth such a one When Joseph who died poor though Simon was his Porter Shall die as if he ne're had been and want his worths reporter Full many a Can he often drank In Fleet-street in the Cellar Yet he must unremembred dye like some base Fortune-teller He made the Ballad of the Turk and sung it in the street And shall he dye and no man heed it no friends it is not meet He lived in Garret high as high as any Steeple And shall he dye alas poor Jo unknown unto the People He had no Curtains to his Bed yet still paid

bright Chariot settle With Skillet arm'd brass Pot or Kettle With Jug black Pot with Glass or Can No talking to our Warming Pan. Thou hast thy beams thy brows to deck Thou hast thy Daphne at thy beck Pan hath his horns Syrinx and Phillis And I his Swain my Amarillis Song on Women TRust not a Woman when she cries For she 'l pump water from her eyes With a wer finger and in faster showers Then April when he rains down Flowers As out of Wormwood Bees suck honey As from poor Clients Lawyers firk money As Parseley from a rosted Coney So though the day be ne're to sunny If Wives will have it rain down then it drives The calmest Husbands make the most stormy Wives On an Excellent Race-Horse COme Muses all that dwell nigh the Fountain made by the winged Horses heel Which firk'd with his Rider over each Mountain let me your gallopping raptures feel I do not sing of Fleas nor Frogs Nor of the well-mouth'd Hunting-dogs Let me be just all praises must Be giv'n to well-breath'd Jilian Thrust 2. Young Constable and Kil-deer's famous the Cap the Mouse the Noddy gray With nimble Pegabrigg you cannot shame us With Spaniard nor with Spinola Hill climing white Rose praised doth not lack Handsom Dunbar and yellow Jack But if I be just all praises must Be given to well-breath Jilian Thrust 3. Sure spurr'd Sloven true runing Robin of young Shaver I do not say less Strawbery Soam and let Spider pop in fine Brackley and brave running Bess Victorious too was Herring Shotten And Spin in 's arse is not forgotten But if I be just all honour must Be given unto Jilian Thrust 4. Now Gentleman all I pray you hark yet to winning Makarel fine mouth'd Freak Bay Tarral that won the Cup at New-market thundring Tempest Black-dragon eke Precious Sweet-lips I do not lose Nor Toby with his golden Shoes But if I be just all honour must Be given to well-breath Jilian Thrust The Clown's Description of his Mistress Happy am I in Mop's love that ever I bespoke her Whose hair 's as fine as any hemp and colour'd like red oker Whose hammer-head and beetle-brows will never me deceive If I have any Nail to drive or any Block to cleave Those eye-holes if thy eyes were out would serve as well for Sawcers But thy plump cheeks puft up do hang like to a pair of Dossers And from this Limbeck the rare Juice continually that flows Left thou should lose one drop of it thou hast a Bottle-nose Thy chaps do water I protest as they were greas'd with tallow Thy scattering teeth enamel'd are with blew and black and yellow When thou dost talk I do admire thy stumbling and thy trips Thou art no great blab of thy tongue but a little of thy lips The rubies and the carbuncles on thy face shine most Star-like But oh thy spicy fragrant breath smells like a bed of Garlike Thy comely breasts to me appear like Mole-hills newly raised Which for their mountainous extent are highly to be praised Her sides be long her belly lank of her legs what should I say But that she feels well in the flank her feet themselves display The Watch-mens Song SIng and rejoyce the day is gone and the wholesome night appears In which the Constable on throne of trusty Bench doth with his peers The comely Watch-men sound of health sleep for the good ot'h Commonwealth 'T is his office to do so being bound to keep the peace And in quiet sleep you know mortal jars and lewd brauls cease A Constable may then for 's health Sleep for the good ot'h Commonwealth Unless with nobler thoughts inspir'd to the Tavern he resort Wherewith sack his senses fir'd he raigns as Fairy King in Court Drinking many a lusty health Then sleep for the good ot'h Commonwealth With a comely Girle whom late he had taken in his watch Oft he steals out of the Gate her at the old sport to match Though it may impair his health He sleeps for the good ot'h Commonwealth Who then can Constables deny to be persons brave and witty Snce they only are the eye the glory the delight o' th City That with Staff and Lanthorn light A like-black Pluto Princes of the night The Jovial Companion COme let 's drink the time invites Winter and cold weather For to pass away long nights and to keep our wits together Better far thna Cards or Dice Or Jack's balls that quaint delights Made up with fan and feather Of great actions on the Seas we will ne're be jealous Give us liquor that will please and 't will make us braver fellows Then the flout Venetian Fleet When the Turk and they do meet Within their Dardanello's Mahomet was not Divine but a simple Wigeon To forbid the use of Wine unto those of his Religion Falling sickness was his shame And his Tomb shall have the same For all is whispring Pigeon Therefore water we 'l desclaim mankinds adversary Once it caus'd the worlds whole fame in the deluge to miscarry Nay this enemy of joy Seeks with envy to destroy And murther good Canary Valentien that famous Town stood the French mens wonder Water it employ'd to drown so to force their Troops asunder Turain cast a helpless look Whilst the crafty Spaniard took La Ferto and his plunder See thee Squibs and hear the Bells the fifth day of November The Preacher a sad Story tells and with horror doth remember How some Dry-brain'd Traitor wrought Arts that might have ruine brought To King and every member He that drinks hath no such thoughts black and void of reason We take care to fill our vaults with Wine for every season And with many a chearful cup We blow one another up And that 's our only treason A New Ballad of St. George for England and the Dragon WHY should we boast of Arthur and his Knights Knowing how many men have performed fights Or why should we speak of Sir Lancelor du Lake Or Sir Tristram du Leon that fought for Ladies sake Read old Stories and there you shall see How St. George St. George did make the Dragon flee St. George he was for England St. Denis was for France Sing Hony soit qui maly pense To speak of the Monarchs it were too long to tell And likewise of the Romans how far they did excel Hannibal and Scipio they many a field did fight Orlando Furioso he was a valiant Knight Romulus and Rhemus were those that Rome did build But St. George St. George the Dragon he hath kill'd St. George c. Jephtha and Gideon they led their men to fight The Gibeonites and Ammonites they put them all to flight Hercules's labour was in the Vale of Bass And Sampson slew a thousand with the Jaw bone of an Ass And when that he was blind pull'd the temple to the ground But St. George St. George the Dragon did confound St. George c. Valentine and Orson they came of Pippin's