Selected quad for the lemma: glory_n

Word A Word B Word C Word D Occurrence Frequency Band MI MI Band Prominent
glory_n heart_n light_n shine_v 7,260 5 9.5022 5 true
View all documents for the selected quad

Text snippets containing the quad

ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A29623 Songs and other poems by Alex. Brome ... Brome, Alexander, 1620-1666. 1664 (1664) Wing B4853; ESTC R4313 148,082 391

There are 2 snippets containing the selected quad. | View lemmatised text

out of all Pigmalion like My fancy limns a woman To her I freely sacrifice And rival'd am by no man SONG XI The Contrary 1. NAy prithee do be coy and slight me I must love though thou abhor it This pretty niceness does invite me Scorn me and I 'll love thee for it That World of beauty that is in you I 'll overcome like Alexander In amorous flames I can continue Unsing'd and prove a Salamander 2. Do not be won too soon I prethee But let me woe whilest thou dost fly me 'T is my delight to dally with thee I 'll court thee still if thou'●t deny me For there 's no happiness but loving Enjoyment makes our pleasures ●lat Give me the heart that 's alwaies moving And 's not confin'd t' one you know what 3. I 've fresh supplies on all occasions Of thoughts as Various as your face is No Directory for evasions Nor will I court by common-places My heart 's with Antidotes provided Nor will I dye ' cause you frown on me I 'm merry when I am derided When you laugh at me or upon me 4. 'T is fancy that creates those pleasures That have no being but conceited And when we come to dig those treasures We see our selves our selves have cheated But if th'ar● minded to destroy me Then love me much and love me ever I 'll love thee more and that may slay me So I●hy ●hy Martyr am or never SONG XII The Young Lover 1. TUsh never tell me I 'm too young For loving or too Green She staies at least seven years too long That 's wedded at fourteen Age and Discretion fit Grave Matrons whose desires and youths are past Love needs not nor has wit They in whose youthful breast dwels nought but frost Can only mourn the daies and joyes they 've lost 2. Lambs bring forth Lambs and Doves bring Doves As soon as they 'r begotten Then why should Ladies linger loves As if not ripe till rotten 'T is envious age pe●●wades This tedious heresie for men to ●oe Stale Ni●phs and Vestal maids While they in modesty must answer No. Late Love like late Repentance seldom 's true 3. Gray hairs are fitter for the Grave Than for the bridal bed What pleasure can a lover have In a wither'd Maidenhead Dry bones and rotten limbs Make Hymen's Temple turn an Hospital Age all our beauty dims Though Lands must not till one and twenty fall The laws to love prescribe no time at all 4. Nature's exalted in our time And what our Grandames then At four and twenty scarce could climbe We can arrive at ten Youth of it self doth bring us Provocatives within and we do scorn Love-powders and Eringoes Cupid himself 's a childe and 't will be sworn Lovers like Poets are not made but born SONG XIII To his Mistress 1. MY Theodora can those eyes From whence such glories shine Give light to every soul that pryes And only be obscur'd to mine Who willingly my heart resign Enflam'd by you to be your sacrifice 2. Send out one beam t' enrich my soul And chase this gloomy shade That does in clouds about me roul And in my breast a hell has made Where fire still burns still flames invade And yet lights pow'r and comfort both controul 3. Then out of gratitude I 'll send Some of my flames to thee Thus lovingly our gifts we 'll blend And both in joyes shall wealthy be And love though blind shall learn to see Since you an eye to him and me can lend SONG XIII To a Widow 1. NAy dry for shame those blubber'd eye● And cease to sigh that breath away Fates are not mov'd with tears and cryes Nor formal sighs as vain as they Joyes are not joyes that alwaies stay And constant pleasures don't delight but cloy 2. Though he be gone that was your dear Must you for ever mourn and pine The Sun that 's buried the last Year Does now in newer glory shine Your Nuptial joyes and pleasures be Not dead but only inherited by me 3. Hymen's an Artist and can do The next time better than before Giants great heights can reach unto But on their shoulders dwarfs reach more Men more refin'd do daily grow The nearer to Divinity they go 4. Then don't my dear thy heart confine To one whose being's past away And make me with desires to pine Whilest he must glut that can't enjoy Love's stifled when it is confin'd To this or that it 's object is mankind SONG XV. To his Friend that had vow'd Small-Beer 1. LEave off fond Hermite leave thy vow And fall again to drinking That beauty that won't sack allow Is hardly worth thy thinking Dry love or small can never hold And without Bacchus Venus soon grows cold 2. Doest think by turning Anchorite Or a dull Small-Beer sinner Thy cold embraces can invite Or sprightless Courtship win her No 't is Canary that inspires 'T is Sack like Oyle gives Flames to am'rous Fires 3. This makes thee chant thy Mistress name And to the heav'ns to raise her And range this universal frame For Epithets to praise her Low liquors render brains unwitty And ne're provoke to love but move to pity 4. Then be thy self and take thy Glass Leave off this dry Devotion Thou must like Neptune court thy lass Wallowing in Nectars Ocea● Let 's offer at each Ladies shrine A full crown'd bowl first here 's a health to thine SONG XVI On Claret 1. WIthin this bottle's to be seen A scarlet liquor that has been Born of the royal vine We but nick-name it when we call It Gods drink who drink none at all No higher name than Wine 2. 'T is Ladies liquor here one might Feast both his eye and appetite With beauty and with taste Cherries and Roses which you seek Upon your Mistress lip and che●k Are here together plac'● 3. Physicians may prescribe their whey To purge our Reins and Brains away And clarifie the Bloud That cures one sickness with another This routs by whole-sale altogether And drowns them in a floud 4. This Poets makes else how could I Thus ramble into Poetry Nay and write Sonnets too If there 's such pow'r in junior wines To make one venture upon lines What could Canary do 5. Then squeeze the vessels bowels out And deal it faithfully about Crown each hand with a brimmer Since we 're to pass through this red Sea Our noses shall our Pilots be And every soul a swimmer SONG XVII A Mock-Song 1. 'T Is true I never was in love But now I mean to be For there 's no art Can shield a heart From loves Supremacie 2. Though in my nonage I have seen A world of taking faces I had not age nor wit to ken Their several hidden graces 3. Those vertues which though thinly set In others are admired In thee are altogether met Which make thee so desired 4. That though I never was in Love Nor never meant to be Thy self and parts Above my arts Have drawn my
tedious travel to the mind Which our great God in wisdom has design'd For us poor Sons of mortals and thought fit That we therein should exercise our wit All that hath been and all that hath been done All Creatures actions underneath the Sun My searching soul hath seen by contemplation And lo all 's vanity and the souls vexation All men all things are crooked and perverse Full of defects are it and they and theirs All so imperfect that they 're not at all And which we may the great'st vexation call This crookedness cannot be rectifi'd Nor those defects though numberless supply'd When I arriv'd the very top of all That the mistaken Mamonists miscal And think their chiefest blessings wealth and wit With all th' additaments that cleave to it Then did I to my heart Communicate And said Lo I 've attain'd a vast estate And do in wisdome far transcend all them That reigned before me in Jerusalem And to compleat the wisdome of my mind To my large knowledge have experience joyn'd I did apply my active mind to know Wisdome and folly nay and madness too And from th' experience of all I find All this is but vexation of the mind For in much wisdom lies much grief and those That increase knowledge but increase their woes LII A Speech made to the Lord General Monck at Cloth-workers-Hall in London the 13. of March 1659. at which time he was there entertained by that worthy Company NAy then let me come too with my Address Why mayn't a Rustick promise or profess His good affection t' you Why not declare His Wants how many and how great they are And how you may supply them Since you may See our hearts mourn although our clothes be gray Great Hero of three Nations Whose bloud springs From pious and from pow'rful Grand-sire Kings With whose bloud-royal you 've enrich'd your veyns And by continu'd Policy and Pains Have equall'd all their Glory so that now Three Kinglefs Scepters to your feet do bow And court Protection and Alliance too And what great men still reach'd at stoops to you But you 're too truly Noble to aspire By Fraud or Force to Greatness or t' acquire Scepters and Crowns by robbery or base And wilful breach of Trusts and Oaths nor place Your happiness in ravished Dominion Whose Glory 's only founded in opinion Attended still with danger fear and doubt And fears within worse then all those without You must still watch and fear and think and must Lose all content to gratifie one lust Should you invade the Throne or aim at Pelf Throw down three Nations to set up your self Kings are but royal slaves and Prisoners too They alwaies toyl and alwaies guarded go You are for making Princes and can find No work proportion'd to your pow'r and mind But Atlas-like to bear the World and be The great Restorer of the Liberty Of three long captiv'd Kingdomes who were thrown By others strong delusions and their own Misguided zeal to do and suffer what Their very Souls now grieve and tremble at Debauch'd by those they thought would teach and rule 'um Who now they find did ruine and befool 'um Our meanings still were honest for alas We never dream't of what 's since come to pass 'T was never our intent to violate The setled Orders of the Church or State To throw down Rulers from their lawful Seat Merely to make ambitious small things great Or to subvert the Lawes but we thought then the Laws were good if manag'd by good men And so we do think still and find it true Old Lawes did more good and less harm then new And 't was the plague of Countreys and of Cities When that great belly'd house did spawn Committees We fought not for Religion for 't is known Poor Men have little and some great Ones none Those few that love it truly do well know None can take 't from us whe'r we will or no. Nor did we fight for laws nor had we need For if we had but gold enough to feed Our talking Lawyers we had Laws enough Without addressing to the sword or Buffe Nor yet for Liberties for those are things Have cost us more in Keepers than in Kings Nor yet for Peace for if we had done so The Souldiers would have beat us long ago Yet we did fight and now we see for what To shuffle mens Estates those owners that Before these wars could call Estates their own Are beaten out by others that had none Both Law and Gospel overthrown together By those who ne'r believ'd in or lov'd either Our truth our trade our peace our wealth our freedom And our full Parliaments that did get and breed 'um Are all devour'd and by a Monster fell Whom none but you could satisfie or quell You 're great you 're good you 're valiant and you 're wise You have Briarcus hands and Argus eyes You are our English Champion you 're the true St. George for England and for Scotland too And though his story 's question'd much by some Whe'r true or false this Age and those to come Shall for the future find it so far true That all was but a Prophecy of you And all his great and high Atchievements be Explain'd by you in this Mythology Herein you 've far out done him he did fight But with one single Dragon but b' your might A Legion have been tam'd and made to serve The People whom they mean t' undo and starve In this you may do higher and make fame Immortalize your celebrated name This ages glory wonder of all after If you would free the Son as he the Daughter LIII Leges Convivales quod faelix faustumque convivis in Apolline sit NEmo asymbolus nisi umbra huc venito Idiota insulsus tristis turpis abesto Eruditi Urbani Hilares modesti adsciscuntur Nec lectae foeminae repudiantur In apparatu quod convivis corruget nares nil esto Epulae delectu potius quam sumptu parantur Obsonatur coquus convivarum gulae periti sunto De discubitu non contenditur Ministri à dapibus oculati muti A poculis auriti celeres sunto Vina puris fontibus ministrantur aut vapulet hospes Moderatis poculis provocare sodales fas esto At fabulis magis quàm vino velitatio fiat Convivae nec muti nec loquaces sunto De seriis aut sacris poti Saturi ne disserunto Fidicen nisi accersitus non venito Admissorisu tripudiis choreis cantu salibus Omni gratiarum festivitate sacra celebrantur Jeci sine felle sunto Insipida poemata nulla recitantur Versus scribere nullus cogitur Argumentationis totius strepitus abesto Amatoriis querelis ac suspiriis liber angulus esto Lapitharum more Scyphis pugnare vitrea collidere Fenestras excutere supellectilem dilacerare ne fas esto Qui foras dicta vel facta eliminet eliminator Neminem reum pocula Jaciunto Focus perennis esto Ben.