Selected quad for the lemma: friend_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
friend_n	bear_v	good_a	great_a	1,447	5	2.3997	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A18723	Churchyardes farewell	Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604.	1566 (1566)	STC 5221; ESTC S121729	2,431	1

Churchyardes farewell AS witte is neuer good till it bee déerely bought So fréends vntill their truth be tride may passe for thinges of nought For fréendship all in woordes a kinde of flattringe is And if I thinke my woorthiest fréende may be abusde by this I ought in plaine flat termes to shewe him what I thinke And blaze the meaninge of my minde by paper pen and Inke Because the doores be barde where my good will should pas And buzzinge Bées do créepe in place where Churcheyards credite was The fowlers mery pype betraies the careles byrde And fléeringe fawners lye in waite to géeue their fréends a gyrde When fortune turnes hir face beware the Syrenes songe Beware the busie Clawbackes fine whose freendship lastes not longe Thinke you the flyes doo flocke aboute the fleashe in vaine Dooth not the Bée seeke out the flower some hony there to gayne Doo courtiers all for loue approche the princes gates Dooth plainnesse in these double daies repaire to great estates No sure in maskinge robes goeth mischiefe muffled nowe And subtile sleightes with snakish stings doo lodge in smilinge browe And your affections blinde hath you bewitched so Ye haue no power to finde your freendes nor to descerne your fo Ye fill the fleesinge fistes and let the needie lacke And sharpe their teeth whose crafty tungs can byte behinde your backe I pray you tell me now if hap woulde let you slyde How many would through thick thinne for loue with you abide Perhaps a heape of suche could hungry hangers on Whose nature geues the courte a fygge when worldly hap is gon Can you not see the cause that bringes them swarminge in And where the whéele of Fortune swayes the worlde fauour winne Had not your elders wise good triall of suche trashe Did you not sée what woorthy wittes at length were lefte in lashe By trustinge some to farre and heapinge hope in those That seemed fréends to outwarde sight and yet were secrete foes O let me licence haue to painte these pecocks out Whose fethers wauereth with the winde and so turnes taile aboute Yet flicker with their winges to faune the face awhile Untill their sodaine flight they take and so their fréends beguile What should we iudge of them that stare in faces still Where lo for all their curtsie great they beare but small good will And where they seldome come but when some sute they haue They make a signe to sée my Lorde yet seeke by sleight to craue What makes them watch their howres and thrust in thickest preest It is for fréendship that they beare vnto a certaine lease My Lorde must helpe to get now crowche and knéele they all Now stand they vp like sainctes in shrine or nayld against a wall Now figge they here and there as thornes were in their héeles Now trudge aboute these whirlegigges as worlde did runne on whéeles Now cast they fréendly lookes all ouer the chambers gaye Now geue they place as God were there now turne they euery waye Now talke they trimme in printe and prate of Robin hood Much like the knightes of Arthers courte that knew full well their good Some through a finer meane doo créepe in credites lappe And vale their bonettes by deuise as fauour folowed cappe Suche Iuglers bleare your eies and smile within their sléeue When honour in his harmles moode Dooth best of them beléeue Were you but once a daye in simple seruauntes place And like a looker on ye stoode to prie vpon this case Then should ye throughly sée who plaies the wily foxe And how the Wolfe can frame himselfe to draw in yoke like oxe Then shoulde the mufled men shew foorth their faces bare And therby noble hartes shoulde learne to knowe what flatterers are The glory of your state heaues vp your hed so hie That many thinges doo scape your vewe whiche we sée full with eye And who is now so bolde that dare flat warninge geue To suche as in toppe of pompe or princely plasures lyue I muse what new founde chaunce hath so disguisde the state That men oft times for speakyng plaine doo purchace endlesse hate Whilest fraude and fained chéere dooth euell honour féede And noman dare a plaister geue to heale the wounde in déede Full fickle shall you walke and neuer wante disease They should be banisht from your courte that are so glad to please With twittell twatlyng tales The truth like larm bell Should shortly sounde in tender eares and learne you to doo well But sure the swéetest nuttes doo noorishe woormes apace And flatterers of the finest stampe in courte haue finest place I am to plaine therefore my penne hath drunke to muche An alie hed makes idle hande the quicke to néere to touche Nay nay some one must speake although the vice it bée Or els the play were done ye wot then Lordinges pardon mée For frée of euery Hance I thanke the gods I am And serues no turne but for a vice since first to courte I came To make the Ladies laugh that leades the retchles liues Who late or neuer woodcocke like at later Lammas thriues Yet if the foole had gotte at his departinge thence A night cap or a motley coate or els some spendinge pence It had bene well enough but nothinge there I founde For nothinge from their budgets fell they were so straitly bounde Ye lie sir Daw in déede canst thou so longe be there But needes must fall into thy handes some paringe of the peare A hungry paringe Lorde he hath that there doth weight He watcheth like a gréedy hounde that standeth at receight That oft for lacke of g●me runnes home his panche to fill Or sterues in forest or in parke at least at kepers will Looke what to courte he brought it is consumed and gone And there the fleash of euery iointe is worne vnto the bone The carraine crowes of Cheape in steyng bones so bare Would clap the fell in counter too to breede him further care Nay fie on such good hap on Souldiers faith I sweare To sell the Courts and Cittie bothe and he that takes me there Let him cut of mine cares and slitte my nose aright And make a curtoll of the beast that hath a hed so light To linger out my yeeres for moone shine in the well A hood a hood for such a foole a bable and a bell A coxcombe is to good for such a calfe I trow As of my Lorde my leaue I take so now againe I go Where fortune shall assigne my staffe to light or fall And thus I know a truer freende was not amonge them all Then to my power I was to you and all your race Nor vnto whome I dayly wishe more blesse happe and grace ꝙ Churchyarde FINIS ¶ Printed in Fleetestreete for Edwarde Russell