Selected quad for the lemma: england_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
england_n	great_a	king_n	year_n	21,498	5	5.0090	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A66013	The recantation of a penitent Proteus; or, the changling as it was acted with good applause in St. Maries in Cambridge, and St. Pauls in London, 1663. The first part. To the tune of the second part, and by the same hand. To which is added, The poring doctor, or the gross mistake of a reverend son of the church, in bowing at the name of Judas, at St. Pauls, Novemb. 5. 1663.	Wild, Robert, 1609-1679.	1663 (1663)	Wing W2148; ESTC R490125	2,330	1

THE RECANTATION Of a Penitent PROTEUS Or the CHANGLING AS It was Acted with good Applause in St. Maries in Cambridge and St. Pauls in London 1663. To the Tune of Doctor Faustus ATtend good people lay by scoffs and scorns Let Roundheads all this day pull in their horns But let Conformists and brave Caviliers Unto my doleful Tone prick up their Ears Take from my neck this Robe a Rope's more fit And turn the Surplice to a Penance-Sheet This Pulpit is too good to act my part More fit to preach at Tyburn in a Cart There I deserv'd t' have taken my degree And Doctor Dun should have presented me There with an hempen hood I should be sped And his three-cornered Cap should crown my head Here I am come to hold up guilty hand And of the Beast to give my self the Brand Here by confessing I have been i' th wrong I come to bore my self through my own Tongue In learning my poor Parents brought up me And sent me to the Universitie There I soon found bowing the was to rise And th' only Logick was the Fall'cies In stead of Aristo●les Organon Anthens and Organs I did study on If I could play on them I soon did find I rightly had p●eferment in the Wind I followed that hot sent without controul I bow'd my body and I sung Fa Sol I cozen'd Doctor Couzens and e're long A Fellowship obtained For a Song Then by degrees I clim'd until I got Good friends good Cloths good Commons and what not I got so long until at length I got A Wench with Child and then I got a Blot Before the Consistorie I was try'd Where like a Villaine I both swore and ly'd And from the Whore I made I was made free By purging of my self incontinent LEE B●t as I scorn'd to Father mine one Brat 'T was done to me as I had done with That The Doctors all when a Doctor I would be As a base Son refus'd to Father me With much adoe at length by art and cunning My Tears and Vows prevail'd with Peter Gunning Me to adopt and for his love and care I will devout my self to Peter's Chaire Cambridge I left with greif and great disgrace To seek my fortune in some other place And that I might the better save my stake I took an Order and did Orders take Amongst Conformists I my self did list A Son o' th Church as good as ever pi●t But though I bow'd and cring'd and crost and all I only got a Vicaridge very small E're I was warm and warm I ne're had been In such a starved hole as I was in A fire upon the Church and Kingdom came Which I strait help't to blow into a flame The Second Part. MY Conscience first like Balaams Ass was shie Boggled and winc'd which when I did espie I cudgel'd her and spur'd her on each side Until the Jade her paces all could ride When first I mounted on her tender Back She would not leave the Protestant dull Rack Till in her Mouth the Covenant Bitte I got And made her learn the Presbyterian Trot. 'T was an hard T●ot and freted her alas ' T●e ●ndeo●nd●● Amble easier was I●●●ght her that and out of that to fall To the ●●ntroy of Prelaticall I rode her once to Rumford with a pack Of Arguments for Covenant on her back That Journey she perform'd at such a rate The Committee gave me a rich peice of Plate From Hatfield to St. Albans I did ride The Army cal'd for me to be their Guide There I so spur'd her that I made her fling Not only dirt but blood upon my King When Cromwell turn'd his Masters out by force I made the Beast draw like a Brewers horse Under the Rump I made her were a Crooper And under Lambert she became a Trooper When Noble Monk the King did home conveigh Shee like Darius steed began to Neigh. I taught her since to Organ Pipes to Prance As Bankes his Horse could to a fiddle dance Now with a Snaffle or a Twyned Thred To any Government shee 'l turn her head I have so broke her she doth never start And that 's the meaning of my broken heart I have found out a cunning way with ease To make her cast her Coat when e're I please And if at Rack and Manger she may be Her Colts Tooth Shee will keep most wanton-LEE I le change as often as the Man i' th Moon His frequent Changing makes him rise so soon To eat Church Plum-broth e're it all be gone I 'le have the Devils spoon but I le have One. For many years my Tongue did lick the Rump But when I saw a King was turn up Trump I did resolve still in my hand to have One winning Card although 't were but a Knave If the great Turk to England come I can Make Gospel truckle to the Alchoran And if their Turkish Saboaths should take place I have in readiness my Friday Face If lockt in Iron Chest as we are told A Loadstone their great Mahomet can hold The Loadstone of preferment I presage To Mahomet may draw this Iron Age. The Congregation way best pleas'd my mind There were most Shee s and they most free and kind By Chamber practise I did better thrive Then all my livings though I Skimmed five Mine eyes are open now my sins to see With tears I cry Good people pardon me My Reverend Fathers pardon I do crave And hope my Mothers blessing yet to have My Cambridge sins my Bugden sins are vile My Essex sins my sins in Ely-Isle My Leicester sins my Hatfield sins are many But my St. Albans sins more red then any To CHARLES the first I was a bloudy Foe I wish I do not serve the second so The onely way to make me leave that trick Is to bestow on me a Bishoprick This is St Andrews Eve and for his sake A Bishoprick in Scotland I could take And though a Metropolitan there be I 'de be as Sharpe and full as Arch as he Now may this Sermon never be forgot Let others call 't a Sermon I a Plot A Plot that takes if it believed be If not I shall repent unfeigned LEE I must desire the Crack-fart of the Nation With Reverence to let fly this Recantation Our Names ty'd taile to taile make a sweet Change Mine onely is Stange Lee and his Le-Strange FINIS