Selected quad for the lemma: england_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
england_n	henry_n	king_n	son_n	33,152	5	6.0091	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B02868	Dying tears. Or, Englands joy turned to mourning, for the loss of that vertuous Prince, Henry Duke of Glocester, 3d. son to our late soveraign King Charles the first: who departed this life the 13 of September, in the year of our Lord, 1660. Prepare for death before you dye, if you would live eternally. To the tune of, Aim not too high.		1660 (1660)	Wing D2958A; ESTC R174796	1,504	1

Dying Tears OR Englands Joy turned to mourning for the loss of that Vertuous Prince Henry Duke of Glocester 3d. Son to our late Soveraign King Charles the first Who departed this life the 13. of September in the Year of our Lord 1660. Prepare for death before you dye If you would live eternally To the Tune of Aim not too high C●●re the wonders that our God hath done Great are the mercies which to us are shown Yet we forget to say that God is just Even though he turn the living into dust Now learn O England learn for to lament His death who from us hath been long absent And at the last is come on English Shore To lay his Corps whose death we now deplore Just in the prime and blooming of His age Dear Gloster's ravished from this mortall Stage Yet though his body can no more revive Pet his rare Vertues seem to be alive Scarce had fair England bidden welcome home This our most vertuous Prince but death doth come Scarce had his weary body taken rest Behold grim death doth come and takes his breath How can fair England weep enough and mourn His comely Corps we can't enough adorn O death our hopes our Treasure in an hour Hast thou dispers'd which makes salt tears to showr O envious death how dar'st thou in his prime To cut down him in whom all vertues shine Therefore wee 'l seek his vertues for to blaze Upon his Tomb we will set forth his praise No sooner in his vertues we did trust But presently this Prince is turnd to dust O then what course of lives would Mortalls take Seeing that Princes cannot death forsake Great Emperours and Kings lye at the stake To day they live to morrow their graves they make Death is a debt we owe which we must pay When death doth call poor mortalls must they The Second Part to the same Tune O That loud man would but view o're his says And seriously consider his own wayes Now that all things below are vanity But souls Redeemer 't is that lives on high The God of Love pour forth his mercies great On our Dread Soveraign even from his mercy seat O give him grace and wisedome to consider That where his Brother 's gone he must go thither For Kings and Princes are but a span When death both come with 's grimly dart in hand To give the stroak whilst nature bios adieu To all its pleasures and it's Comfort too O that our God would pour his spirit upon Our King and Prince that they may both live long O let them know 't is not the arm of flesh That 's able to withstand Deaths powerfull crush 'T is not mans honour nor his powerfull hand Nor his Riches that are at his command Neither his friend at all can him deliver From death's sad stroke which strikes but once for ever O learn with blessed David for to prove That Gods thy portion and thy only love Then death shall not affright thee nor the grave But this shall thee rejoyce thy soul to save Death is no sting the grave cannot contain The Righteous soul that makes 〈◊〉 his aim But wicked men when once lass in the Men Their souls in torments ever after burn But this is not our Gloster Case for he Was the true partern of Nobility Saint like he liv'd and he the same did dye As soon as dead to Heaven his soul did fly When France did harbour this out Noble P● His Mother did endeavour to convince Him to turn Papist but with courage bold He said his true Religion he would hold The learned Jesuite could not him deceive Their damned Doctrine he would not believer Nor all the Learned men that France could yield Could make this Christian prince to quite the field But now he 's dead alas where is he gone His Corps to dust his soul to Heaven is come O then Rejoyce O England and be glad That God has carried him then to good from had Concluding now I end my mournfull Song Which to all men in England doth belong Prepare for death before before you dye If e're you mean to live eternally London Printed for Charles Tyns on London-Bridge