Selected quad for the lemma: england_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
england_n	john_n	lord_n	sir_n	20,088	5	6.7459	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A51807	A pastoral essay lamenting the death of our most gracious Queen Mary, of blessed memory by Mr. Manning.	Manning, Mr. (Francis), fl. 1688-1716.	1695 (1695)	Wing M488; ESTC R32048	4,001	12

A Pastoral Essay Lamenting the DEATH Of our Most Gracious Queen MARY Of Blessed Memory By Mr. MANNING Interitum montesque feri Sylvaeque loquuntur Virg. LONDON Printed for J. Weld at the Crown between the Temple-Gates in Fleet-street And are to be Sold by J. Whitlock near Stationers-Hall MDCXCV To the Right Honourable Sir JOHN SUMMERS Kt. Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of ENGLAND and one of His Majesties Most Honourable Privy Council May it please your Lordship AMongst the pious acknowledgments which have been lately paid to the Memory of our late Queen This comes tho' less deserving to crave your Lordships Patronage The true concern of its Author will I hope in some sort excuse the errors of the Poem 'T is Pastoral my Lord A kind of Verse us'd amongst Shepherds in old time that admits of nothing affected or disagreeing to the purest Innocence such as was practised in the Golden Age. I presume not hereby to inform your Lordship of the Nature of Pastorals but to vindicate that Verse from the ill opinions of some who methinks by disapproving of it must be no Friends to Vertues and Innocence But lest I prove troublesome to your Lordship whose Hours are of infinite Value and Importance I humbly begg your Lordships acceptance of this Essay and the honour to subscribe my self My Lord Your Lordships most Humble and most devoted Servant F. M. A PASTORAL Lamenting the Death of the Late QUEEN Damon Melampus Mel. COME hither Damon I have one demand To make which well deserves a faithful hand I know thee grateful and of tender mind Ready to please and moulded to be kind You well recall how at Adonis Feast Amongst the tuneful Swains at your request At your request tho' much unskill'd in Lays I play'd upon my Pipe and sung my Damon's praise Shepherd I piped and sung with all my Might Because 't was pleasing in my Shepherd's sight Now all I ask is Grant me one soft hour Soft as Aglae's Arms in yonder Bower An unfrequented place secure of shade Fertile in wilds for Grief most fitly made There with Harmonious Reed and tuneful breath Thou shalt begin a Song of great Sylvana's Death Dam. Oh! I am most unfit for such a task Not able to perform the Boon you ask For so exalted doth the Theme appear That it exceeds a lowly Shepherds Sphear Besides should I retire with thee and Sing My Flocks would stray to the forbidden Spring Believe me 't is an ugly Water-place Muddy unwholesom round it noxious grass Such faults all there abouts are lately seen That now my Sheep graze always on the Green Yet to oblige thee Swain my gentle Friend For sure I love thee well I 'll strive to bend My Art-less Voice and tune my mournful Reed Pipe a sad strain for Oh Sylvana's Dead Mel. I know kind Shepherd that the Subject's great A lofty Theme deserving utmost State Couldst thou like Orpheus move inanimate's Or play at fam'd Arion's wondrous rate Wer 't thou the Favorite of all the Nine The first in Song of all the tuneful line If such thou wert in voice and such in Lays Yet wouldst thou nor suffice to shew Sylvana's praise But come my Swain what tho thou art not made To sing great lofty strains in Roman shade A Shepherd's humble Verse is full as well To shew a true concern and tender zeal As to thy Flocks I 'll view them all the while And sure my eyes are good lest any spoil Be made or they run roving to the Spring Now let us sit and sweetly Damon sing Dam. Mourn British woods let every Swain deplore Lament each Nymph Sylvana is no more O mournful time O great and dismal cross Such as these Woods n're saw before this loss Where have we been Melampus how employ'd Wrapt up in joys with various pleasures cloy'd It must be so so calm was our Estate Minds so united and so fixt our Seat We were so happy but alas the time Is grown more dismal and more sad the clime O mournful State the Woods all chang'd appear The Trees all wither'd and the Streams not clear Mourn British woods let every Swain deplore Lament each Nymph Sylvana is no more Was ever Land so fortunately blest Were ever shady Groves so well possest Of Lords a pair without example seen The happiest lovingst Shepherds of the Green He the Great Swain unmatch'd in vertue Love Greatness and all things else that Heroes move Great in himself but Greater in the Pride He took in his all-shining lovely Bride A Shepherdess so exquisitely Fair So Wise so Good in every thing so rare That all Perfections seem'd to center there So kind she was so just so fit to sway She knew both how to Govern and Obey When Great affairs call'd the Great Swain abroad Sylvana to transact at home employ'd That she reviv'd our hopes and banish'd all our fears With so much Prudence manag'd all affairs Each thing each State so gracefully became Whate're she undertook immortaliz'd her Name Mourn British woods let every Swain deplore Lament each Nymph Sylvana is no more O Direful loss O most untimely Fate Ye wretched Nymphs mourn your unhappy State Where 's the support of all your Glories fled Mourn all your Ornament Sylvana Dead Where are ye now ye Woods and where ye Groves How fare your Turtles and how greet your Loves Who shall adorn your Arbours trim your Boughs Who crop your Trees and who your Grass-beds mows Where are ye now ye Rivers where ye Springs And ye false Rocks and where is' t Echo sings All now deserted all your loss bemoan So Universal is the sorrow grown Mourn British woods Let every Swain deplore Lament each Nymph Sylvana is no more Look where Apollo stands the † Apollo was called Nomius a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 pascuum because he fed the Sheep of Admetus Nomian God Giving his answers by a silent Nod No more Admetus flocks the Shepherd feeds No more † A River of Thessaly upon whose banks Apollo is said to have fed the flocks of King Admetus Amphrysus hears his Oaten reed See Pales too how greif has chang'd her face No longer seen that wonted lively grace Which made the Shepherds in a jovial ring Dance to her praise and to her honour sing No more protects the fields All desart lyes Pales the Goddess of the Shepherds crys Bacchus himself with all his jolly throng Contemns his Plays and sadly walks along No more they trip it on the softned ground Nor more doth the two-handled Bowl go round But all intent upon a solemn grief The common care pursue no vain relief Behold great Pan see see the flowing tide Of Tears with Daphnis piping by his side What is' t he plays or to what tunes his breath He plays hard Fate he sings Sylvana's Death Let Hills and Dales express their Panick fears Lament ye Rocks and soften into tears Farewell ye gentle streams of Thamisis Sylvana will no more your