Selected quad for the lemma: england_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
england_n	wonder_n	work_n	year_n	16	3	4.1540	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A33421	The works of Mr. John Cleveland containing his poems, orations, epistles, collected into one volume, with the life of the author.	Cleveland, John, 1613-1658.	1687 (1687)	Wing C4654; ESTC R43102	252,362	558

their Mind Which you convey'd them through their Mother who Even thus did travel with your Vertues too Which to descend to our dull Sense and Earth Comes to us in their shapes and suffer Birth And be your Off-spring who when Chronicle Is all we have and Annals only tell Your Deeds and Actions and when Men shall look And see the Prince and Duke do all the Book And live your Royal Story and that all Which you did well was but prophetical Will not be thought as your Posterity But you in them will your Successor be To the Queen upon the Birth of her first Daughter AFter the Prince's Birth admired Queen Had you prov'd barren you had fruitful been And in one Heir born to his Fathers Place And Royal Mind had brought us forth a Race But we who thought we wisht enough to see A Prince of Wales have now a Progeny And you being perfect now have learnt the Way To be with Child as oft as we can pray So that henceforth we need no Altars vex With empty Vows being heard in either Sex Nor have we all our Kingdoms Incense try'd So many Years only to be deny'd We no Desires but thankful Off'rings bring That bearing many you prefer the King And to us yet have but one Daughter shown Who else had been the Original alone Without a Copy For the Shapes we see In Tables of you but bright Errors be Nor could we hope Art could beget an Heir To that sweet Form unless your self did bear Your Pourtraiture and in a Daughter shew That of your self which yet no Painter drew Who with his subtle Hand and wisest Skill Hath hitherto but striv'd to draw you ill And when he takes his Pencil from your Look Finds Colours make you but a Piece mistook And so paints Treason nor would have Pretence To scape but that he limns a fair Pretence But in the Princess you are writ so plain And true that in her you were born again And when we see you both together plac't You are your Daughter only grown in haste In both we may the self-same Graces see But that they yet in her but Infant be Not Woman Beauties nor will we despair The Prince and Duke of York have equal Share In your Perfection which though they divide Make them both Prince enough by th'Mothers side Whose Composition is so clear and good That we can see Discourses in your Blood And understand your Body so refin'd That of you might be born a Soul or Mind O may you still be fruitful and begin Henceforth to make our Year by lying in May we have store of Princes and they live Till Heraulds doubt what Titles they should give To this may you be young still and no other Signs of more Age found in you but a Mother Upon one that preacht in a Cloak SAw you the Cloak at Church to day The long-worn short Cloak lin'd with Say What had the Man no Gown to wear Or was this sent him from the Mayor Or is 't the Cloak which Nixon brought To trim the Tub where Golledge taught Or can this best conceal his Lips And shew Communion sitting Hips Or was the Cloak St. Pauls If so With it he found the Parchments too Yes verily for he hath been With mine Host Gaius at the new Inn. A Gown God bless us trails o'th'Floor Like th'Petticoat o'th'Scarlet Whore Whose large stiff Plates he dare confide Are Ribs from Antichrists own side A mourning Cope if it look to th' East Is the black Surplice of the Beast A Song of SACK COme let us drink away the time A Pox upon this pelting Rhime When Wine runs high Wit 's in the Prime Drink and stout Drinkers are true Joys Odd Sonnets and such little Toys Are Exercises fit for Boys 2. The whining Lover that doth place His Fancy on a painted Face And wasts his Substance in the Chase Would ne'er in Melancholy pine Had he Affections so Divine As once to fall in Love with Wine 3. Then to our Liquor let us sit Wine makes the Soul for Action fit Who drinks most Wine hath the most Wit The Gods themselves do Revels keep And in pure Nectar tipple deep When sloathful Mortals are asleep 4. They fudled me for Recreation In Water which by all Relation Did cause Deucalions Inundation The Spangle Globe had it almost Their Cups were with Salt-Water do'st The Sun-burnt Center was the Toast 5. The Gods then let us imitate Secure from carping Care and Fate Wine Wit and Courage both create In Wine Apollo always chose His darkest Oracles to disclose 'T was Wine gave him his Ruby-nose 6. Who dare's not drink 's a wretched Wight Nor do I think that Man dares fight All Day that dares not drink all Night Come fill my Cup untill it swim With Foam that overlooks the Brim Who drinks the deepest Here 's to him 7. Sobriety and Study breeds Suspicion in our Acts and Deeds The down-right Drunkard no Man heeds Give me but Sack Tobacco store A drunken Friend a little Whore Provide me these I 'll ask no more A Time-Sonnet NOw that our Holy Wars are done Between the Father and the Son And since we have by Righteous Fate Distrest a Monarch and his Mate And forc'd their Heirs flee into France To weep out their Inheritance Let 's set open all our Packs That contain ten thousand Racks Cast on the Shore of the Red Sea Of Naseby and of Newbery If then you will come provided with Gold We dwell close by Hell where we 'l sell What you will that is ill For Charity waxeth cold 2. Hast thou done Murther or Blood spilt We can soon get another Name That will keep thee from all Blame But be it still provided thus That thou hast once been one of us Gold is the God that shall pardon the Guilt For we have What shall save Thee from th' Grave Since the Law We can awe Although a famous Prince's Blood were spilt 3. If a Church thou hast bereft Of its Plate 't is Holy Theft Or for Zeal sake if thou bee'st Prompted on to be a Thief Gold is a sure prevailing Advocate Then come bring a Sum Law is dumb And submits to our Wits For it 's Policy guides a State The Parliament MOst Gracious and Omnipotent And Everlasting Parliament Whose Power and Majesty Is greater than all Kings by odds And to account you less then Gods Must needs be Blasphemy 2. Moses and Aaron ne'er did do More Wonder than are wrought by you For Englands Israel But though the Red Sea we have past If you to Canaan bring 's at last Is 't not a Miracle 3. In six Years space you have done more Than all the Parliaments before You have quite done the Work The King the Cavaller and Pope You have o'erthrown and next we hope You will confound the Turk 4. By you we have Deliverance From the Design of Spain and France Ormond Montross the Danes You aided by our

bound But in his Circle Wit no end is found His Wit Oh Miracle For who is he Dares name his Wit without an Extasie That Wit which was to several Tenants let In him as in their proper Landlord met For what in other petty Sparks was found In him 's contracted as one Diamond His Rays ne'er darkned but with Lustre wun He with his Eagle-eyes out-star'd the Sun He was a Fountain whose pure Stream did grow Unbounded never us'd to ebb but flow As ever new still streaming fresh Delights And never so low drawn as to run Whites For in Discourse his Wit did never rest When others were aground with one dry Jest Nor did his meagre Looks proclaim that he Did pine in study for his Poetry Like such pale Apparition's Ghost-like Elves That fatten Paper and yet starve themselves Whos 's Pireskean Pictures seem to be Diseas'd with time decay'd Antiquity Though for his strongest Lines in Verse and Prose He travell'd hard yet he no Flesh did lose In others what comparatively's found In him superlatively did abound No Vice the Anger of his Pen could slip Who did whole Nations to Repentance whip His honest Soul in Consultation sate Unmasking Vices both of Church and State It was not Power but Justice made him write No Ends could May-like turn him Parasite The Cause by Candles-end he did not rate When others Pens did Truth assassinate ●…y danger heightned and made nobly fierce ●…or was his Prose less biting than his Verse ●…is Rebel Scot was not a smarter Satyr ●…han his Diurnal and Diurnal-maker ●…e made the Devil blacker drest in white ●…oving the Zealot the worst Hypocrite ●…lling the Vail from the Reformers Face ●…e left the Rebel to supply his place ●…e that affirm'd 'gainst Sense Snow Black to be Might prove it by this Amphybology Things are not what they seem we may suppress ●…ome Crimes and raise the Devils Holiness The Presbyterian he did un-nest With the whole Kennel o'th'two-footed Beast ●…ed with the Bishops and the Clergies Blood Right Canabals that made the Church their Food The Senate Sir Iohns Appetite did prove And paid him part of his Arrears in Love The barbarous Scots are stigmatiz'd by him ●…or their Rebellion our Apostate Pim ●…ay the just Fury of his Pen had thrown The Nation too into Oblivion Had not the fam'd Montross puts Anger by Rais'd th' Highlands higher in their Loyalty And Rupertissimus consecrated Wars By giving Smec so many hideous Scars I. M. An Elegy on Mr. Cleveland and his Verse on Smectymnuus POor Dablers all bemir'd that spur their Lank Pegasus from Shoulder to the Flank When Weather-beaten in a Shower of Sack Jogg still as things bejaded ride in black Who t'reach the Muses Seat lash and put on But fall short and draw Bit at Trumpington See with what Pangs they labour and produce A still-born Poem and then hug their Muse. Others like Chymists thrive who fain would wi●… By Force what God and Nature ne'er put in Yet these bear Name and Voice The smallest Boa●… Appears if in the narrow Thames it float But vanisheth away in the vast Main Which was before the Rivers Soveraign Such was the Fate of my weak Streams that ra●… To drown themselves in th'unbound Ocean And lose their Name in His to whom the Nine Bow down and render up their Sacred Shrine We poor Retainers angle for a thin Fancy his like a Drag-Net sweeps all in And as Gold-drivers that makes Spangles rare Do beat the yielding Metal into Air As Generals in War their Strength contrive To make three Troops of Men seem more than five We practice frugal Wit and play 't at length In sleek and smoother Numbers without Strength His like the swift sure Ship is firmly built Of deepest Bottom and most stately gilt If Number wants there as in ruins th' Face Though rough betrays the Treasure of the place We strugling Words into their Fetters frame ●…s Printers use to fit and joyn the same His large Commands have all in Power to chuse ●…nd 't is the greatest Labour to refuse We seldom shoot to make some Glimpse of Day ●…is thick as Atomes in the Sun-shine play ●…nd therefore Sir just is the Accusation ●…ou're charg'd with this strong Accumulation ●…bverts the Fundamentals 't is your Crime ●… ' upbraid the State-Poeticks of this time With Wit so insolent though Phoebus be The Pleader our Notes ne'er shall set you free ●…or Smec 't is sure the Conquest all is mine ●…ee how the Vipers through the Amber shine ●…nd bravely carv'd as Indians joy to see Themselves so cut although in Imag'ry ●…nd tell me when Domitian slew the Fly Did he deserve the Laurel Victory ●…ad brawny Hercules the Hydra slain 〈◊〉 much beneath his Strength wer 't not a Stain To all his former Labours and a Brand ●…ch as to melt with Distaff in his Hand ●…was Smec's Ambition Sir thus to stand high ●…nd be conspicuous though o' th Pillory Then as you love Religion surcease ●…or now the Knaves begin themselves to please ●…nce they 'r vouchsaf'd the Pen the monstrous Fry ●…ike Serpents with fair Speckles strike the Eye ●…e seen a Toad by curious Art so drest ●…adies have hugg'd the Venom in their Breast ●…orbear hereafter Vice to paint so well ●…ch Draughts may hap t' enlarge the Pow'r of Hell ●…nce writ by Ben inspir'd by lusty Wine We love Sejanus and bold Cataline The Elegy made upon Mr. John Cleveland Death cry'd i'th'Streets he being then in good Disposition of Health HE whom the Muses have forbid to dye Durst Ignorance Arts Enemy bely To rhyme him dead She as well might say That he like other Men was common Clay Or that his Soul had nothing in it higher Than poor Promethean Poets meer stol'n Fire But when His shall disrobe it self it shall be sed He 's gone to sleep alone in Fames high Bed B'ing both the Nations and the Muses Wonder Where all Poeticks else may truckle under For 't is impossible Him to entomb For whose Fam'd Name all Brittains Isles want roo●… I. Parry News from Newcastle Or Newcastle Coa●…pit ENgland's a perfect World hath Indies too Correct your Maps Newcastle is Peru Let the Haughty Spaniard triumph till 't is told Our sooty Minerals purifie his Gold This will sublime and hatch the abortive Oar When the Sun tires and Stars can do no more No Mines are currant unrefin'd and gross Coals make the Sterling Nature but the Dross For Mettals Bacchus like two Births approve Heaven heats the Semele and ours the Iove Thus Art doth polish Nature 't is the Trade 〈◊〉 every Madam hath her Chamber-maid who 'd dote on Gold a thing so strange and odd ●…is most contemptible when made a God ●…ll Sin and Mischief hence have rise and swell One India more would make another Hell Our Mines are Innocent nor will the North Tempt poor Mortality with too much Worth They 'r not so precious rich enough to fire