Selected quad for the lemma: england_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
england_n	france_n	king_n	peace_n	17,768	5	6.6909	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A37442	The true-born Englishman a satyr.	Defoe, Daniel, 1661?-1731.	1700 (1700)	Wing D849; ESTC T70649	19,414	76

is heard so far or lasts so long 'T is heard by ev'ry Ear and spoke by ev'ry Tongue My Hero with the Sails of Honour furl'd Rises like the Great Genius of the World By Fate and Fame wisely prepar'd to be The Soul of War and Life of Victory He spreads the Wings of Virtue on the Throne And ev'ry Wind of Glory fans them on Immortal Trophies dwell upon his Brow Fresh as the Garlands he has worn but now By different Steps the high Ascent he gains And differently that high Ascent maintains Princes for Pride and Lust of Rule make War And struggle for the Name of Conqueror Some fight for Fame and some for Victory He Fights to Save and Conquers to set Free Then seek no Phrase his Titles to conceal And hide with Words what Actions must reveal No Parallel from Hebrew Stories take Of God-like Kings my Similies to make No borrow'd Names conceal my living Theam But Names and Things directly I proclaim 'T is honest Merit does his Glory raise Whom that exalts let no man fear to praise Of such a Subject no man need be shy Virtue 's above the Reach of Flattery He needs no Character but his own Fame Nor any flattering Titles but his Name William's the Name that 's spoke by ev'ry Tongue William's the Darling Subject of my Song Listen ye Virgins to the Charming Sound And in Eternal Dances hand it round Your early Offerings to this Altar bring Make him at once a Lover and a King May he submit to none but to your Arms Nor ever be subdu'd but by your Charms May your soft Thoughts for him be all sublime And ev'ry tender Vow be made for him May he be first in ev'ry Morning-Thought And Heav'n ne're hear a Pray'r where he 's left out May ev'ry Omen ev'ry boding Dream Be Fortunate by mentioning his Name May this one Charm Infernal Powers affright And guard you from the Terrors of the Night May ev'ry chearful Glass as it goes down To William's Health be Cordials to your own Let ev'ry Song be Chorust with his Name And Musick pay her Tribute to his Fame Let ev'ry Poet tune his Artful Verse And in Immortal Strains his Deeds rehearse And may Apollo never more inspire The Disobedient Bard with his Seraphick Fire May all my Sons their grateful Homage pay His Praises sing and for his Safety pray Satyr return to our Unthankful Isle Secur'd by Heav'n's Regard and William's Toil. To both Ungrateful and to both Untrue Rebels to God and to Good Nature too If e're this Nation be distress'd again To whomsoe're they cry they 'll cry in vain To Heav'n they cannot have the face to look Or if they should it would but Heav'n provoke To hope for Help from Man would be too much Mankind would always tell 'em of the Dutch How they came here our Freedoms to maintain Were Paid and Curs'd and Hurry'd home again How by their Aid we first dissolv'd our Fears And then our Helpers damn'd for Foreigners 'T is not our English Temper to do better For Englishmen think ev'ry man their Debtor 'T is worth observing that we ne're complain'd Of Foreigners nor of the Wealth they gain'd Till all their Services were at an End Wise men affirm it is the English way Never to Grumble till they come to Pay And then they always think their Temper 's such The Work too little and the Pay too much As frighted Patients when they want a Cure Bid any Price and any Pain endure But when the Doctor 's Remedies appear The Cure's too Easy and the Price too Dear Great Portland ne're was banter'd when he strove For Us his Master's kindest Thoughts to move We ne're lampoon'd his Conduct when employ'd King Iames's Secret Councils to divide Then we caress'd him as the only Man Which could the Doubtful Oracle explain The only Hushai able to repell The Dark Designs of our Achitophel Compar'd his Master's Courage to his Sense The Ablest Statesman and the Bravest Prince On his Wise Conduct we depended much And lik'd him ne're the worse for being Dutch Nor was he valued more than he deserv'd Freely he ventur'd faithfully he serv'd In all King William's Dangers he has shar'd In England's Quarrels always he appear'd The Revolution first and then the Boyne In Both his Counsels and his Conduct shine His Martial Valour Flanders will confess And France Regrets his Managing the Peace Faithful to England's Interest and her King The greatest Reason of our Murmuring Ten Years in English Service he appear'd And gain'd his Master's and the World's Regard But 't is not England's Custom to Reward The Wars are over England needs him not Now he 's a Dutchman and the Lord knows what Schonbergh the Ablest Soldier of his Age With Great Nassau did in our Cause engage Both join'd for England's Rescue and Defence The Greatest Captain and the Greatest Prince With what Applause his Stories did we tell Stories which Europe's Volumes largely swell We counted him an Army in our Aid Where he commanded no man was afraid His Actions with a constant Conquest shine From Villa-Vitiosa to the Rhine France Flanders Germany his Fame confess And all the World was fond of him but Us. Our Turn first serv'd we grudg'd him the Command Witness the Grateful Temper of the Land We blame the K that he relies too much On Strangers Germans Hugonots and Dutch And seldom does his great Affairs of State To English Counsellors communicate The Fact might very well be answer'd thus He has so often been betray'd by us He must have been a Madman to rely On English G ns Fidelity For laying other Arguments aside This Thought might mortify our English Pride That Foreigners have faithfully obey'd him And none but Englishmen have e're betray'd him They have our Ships and Merchants bought and sold And barter'd English Blood for Foreign Gold First to the French they sold our Turky-Fleet And Injur'd Talmarsh next at Camaret The King himself is shelter'd from their Snares Not by his Merit but the Crown he wears Experience tells us 't is the English way Their Benefactors always to betray And lest Examples should be too remote A Modern Magistrate of Famous Note Shall give you his own History by Rote I 'll make it out deny it he that can His Worship is a True-born Englishman In all the Latitude that Empty Word By Modern Acceptation's understood The Parish-Books his Great Descent record And now he hopes e're long to be a Lord. And truly as things go it wou'd be pity But such as he bore Office in the City While Robb'ry for Burnt-Offering he brings And gives to God what he has stole from Kings Great Monuments of Charity he raises And good St. Magnus whistles out his Praises To City-Gaols he grants a Jubilee And hires Huzza's from his own Mobile Lately he wore the Golden Chain and Gown With which Equipt he thus harangu'd the Town Sir C s D b's Fine Speech c. WIth