Selected quad for the lemma: glory_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
glory_n	let_v	lord_n	riches_n	4,751	5	9.0528	5	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A49294	Lucasta posthume poems of Richard Lovelace, Esq.	Lovelace, Richard, 1618-1658.; Lovelace, Dudley Posthumus.; Faithorne, William, 1616-1691.	1659 (1659)	Wing L3241_PARTIAL_CANCELLED; Wing L3237_PARTIAL; ESTC R3895	41,807	130

go And liv'st an aged Embrio That like the Cubbs of India Thou from thy self a while dost play But frighted with a Dog or Gun In thine own Belly thou dost run And as thy House was thine own womb So thine own womb concludes thy tomb But now I must analys'd King Thy Oeconomick Virtues sing Thou great stay'd Husband still within Thou thee that 's thine dost Discipline And when thou art to progress bent Thou mov'st thy self and ●enement As Warlike Scythians travayl'd you Remove your Men and City too Then after a sad Dearth and Rain Thou scatterest thy Silver Train And when the Trees grow nak'd and old Thou cloathest them with Cloth of Gold Which from thy Bowels thou dost spin And draw from the rich Mines within Now hast thou chang'd thee Saint and made Thy self a Fane that 's cupula'd And in thy wreathed Clois●er thou Walkest thine own Gray fryer too Strickt and lock'd up th' art Hood all ore And ne'r Eliminat'st thy Dore. On Sallads thou dost feed severe And stead of Beads thou drop'st a tear And when to rest each c●lls the Bell Thou sleep'st within thy Matble Cell Where in dark contemplation plac'd The sweets of Nature thou dost tast Who now with Time thy days resolve And in a ●●lly thee dissolve Like a sho● 〈◊〉 which doth repair Upward and 〈◊〉 Air 〈◊〉 THe Cent●● 〈…〉 Those 〈…〉 too ● Nor of the 〈…〉 Nor the 〈…〉 Behod this 〈…〉 Of Horses Coa●● 〈…〉 That moverh 〈…〉 And doth 〈…〉 Then when the S●● the South doth 〈◊〉 He bai●s him 〈◊〉 I heard a grave and ●●tere Clar● Resolv'd him Pilot both and Barque● That like the fam'd Ship of Trever● Did on the Shore himself Lavere Yet the Authentick do beleeve Who keep their Judgement in their Sleeve That he is his own Double man And sick still carries his Se●an Or that like Dames i' th Land of Luyck He wears his ev●●●asting Huyck But banisht I admire his fate Since neither Ostracisme of State Nor a perpet●al exile Can force this Virtue change his Soyl For wheresoever he doth go He wanders with his Country too Courante Monsieur THat frown Aminta now hath drown'd Thy bright fronts power and crown'd Me that was bound No no deceived Cruel no Loves fiery darts Till tipt with kisses never kindle Hearts Adieu weak beauteous Tyrant see Thy angry flames meant me Re●ort on thee For know it is decreed proud fair I ne'r must dye By any scorching but a melting Eye A loose Saraband 1. NAy prethee Dear draw nigher yet closer nigher yet Here is a double Fire A dry one and a wet True lasting Heavenly Fuel Puts out the Vestal jewel When once we twining marry Mad Love with wilde Canary 2. Off with that crowned Venice 'Till all the House doth flame Wee 'l quench it straight in Rhe●●sh Or what we must not name Milk ●ightning still asswageth So when our ●ury rageth As th' only means to cross it Wee 'l drown it in Love's posset 3. Love never was Well-willer Unto my Nag or mee Ne'r watter'd us i th' Cellar But the cheap Buttery At th' head of his own Barrells Where broach'd are all his Quarrels ●hould a true noble Master ●till make his Guest his Taster 4. See all the World how 't staggers More ugly drunk then we As if far gone in daggers And blood it seem'd to be We drink our glass of Roses Which nought but sweets discloses Then in our Loyal Chamber Refresh us with Loves Amber 5. Now tell me thou fair Cripple That dumb canst scarcely see Th' almightinesse of Tipple And ●h ' ods 'twixt thee and thee What of Elizium's missing Still Drinking and still Kissing Adoring plump October Lord what is Man and Sober 6. Now is there such a Tri●le As Honour the fools Gyant VVhat is there left to rifle When Wine makes all parts plyant Let o●hers Glory follow In their false riches wallow And with their grief be merry Leave me but Love and Sherry The Falcon. FAir Princesse of the spacious Air That hast vouchsaf'd acquaintance here With 〈…〉 below sta●●● That can r●●ch Heav'n with nought but Pray'rs Who when our activ'st wings we try Advance a foot into the Sky Bright Heir t' th' Bird Imperial From whose avenging penons fall Thunder and Lightning twisted Spun Brave Cousin-german to the Sun That didst forsake thy Throne and Sphere To be an humble Pris'ne● here And for a pirch of her soft hand Resign the Royal Woods command How often woul'st thoushoot Heav'ns Ark Then mount thy self into a Lark And after our short faint eyes call When now a Fly now nought at all Then stoop so swift unto our Sence As thouwert sent Intelligence Free beauteous Slave thy happy 〈◊〉 In silver Fetters vervails meet And trample on that noble Wrist The Gods have kneel'd in vain t' have kist But gaze not bold deceived Spye Too much o th' lustre of her Eye The Sun thou dost out-stare alas VVinks at the glory of her Face Be safe then in thy Velvet helm Her looks are calms that do orewhelm Then the Arabian bird more blest Chafe in the spicery of her breast And loose you in her Breath a wind Sow'rs the delicious gales of Inde But now a quill from thine own Wing I pluck thy lofty fate to sing Whilst we behold the varions fight With mingled pleasure and affright The humbler Hinds do fall to pray'r As when an Army 's seen i' th' Air And the prophetick Spannels run And howle thy Epicedium The Heron mounted doth appear On his own Peg'sus a Lanceer And seems on earth when he doth hu● A proper Halberdier on foot Secure i' th' Moore about to sup The Dogs have beat his Quarters up And now he takes ●he open air Drawes up his Wings with Tactick care Whilst th' expert Falcon swist doth climbe In subtle Mazes serpentine And to advantage closely twin'd She gets the upper Sky and Wind Where she dissembles to invade And lies a pol'tick Ambuscade The hedg'd-in Heron whom the Foe Awaits above and Dogs below In his fortification lies And makes him ready for surprize When roused with a shrill alarm Was shouted from beneath they arm The Falcon charges at first view With her brigade of Talons through Whose Shoots the wary Heron beat VVith a well counterwheel'd retreat But the bold Gen'ral never lost Hath won again her airy Post VVho wild in this affront now fryes Then gives a Volley of her Eyes The desp'rate Heron now contracts In one design all former facts Noble he is resolv'd to fall His aud his En'mies funerall And to be ●id of her to dy A publick Martyr of the Sky VVhen now he turns his last to wreak The palizadoes of his Beak The raging foe impatient Wrack'd with revenge and fury rent Swift as the Thunderbolt he strikes Too sure upon the stand of Pikes There she his naked breast doth hit And on the case of Rapiers's split But ev'n in her expiring pangs The Heron's

not this finer far Then walk un-hided when that every Stone Has knock'd acquaintance with your Anckle bone VVhen your wing'd papers like the last dove nere Return'd to quit you of your hope or fear But left you to the mercy of your Host And your days fare a fortified Toast How many battel 's sung in Epick strain Would have procur'd your head thatch from the rain Not all the arms of Thebes and Troy would get One knife but to anatomize your meat A funeral Elegy with a sad boon Might make you hei sip wine like Maccaroon But if perchance there did a Riband come Not the Train-band so fierce with all its drum Yet with your torch you homeward would retire And heart'ly wish your bed your fun'ral Pyre With what a fury have I known you feed Upon a Contract and the hopes't might speed Not the fair Bride impatient of delay Doth wish like you the Beauties of that day Hotter than all the rosted Cooks you sat To dresse the fricace of your Alphabet Which sometimes would be drawn dough Anagrame Sometimes Acrostick parched in the Flame Then Pos●es stew'd with Sippets motto's by Of minced Verse a miserable Pye How many knots slip'd ere you twist their name With th' old device as both their Heart 's the same Whilst like to drills the Feast in your false ●aw You would transmit at leasure to your Maw Then after all your fooling fat and wine Glutton'd at last return at home to pine Tell me O Sun since first your beams did play To Night and did awake the sleepi●g day Since first your steeds of Light their race did start Did you ere blush as now Oh thou that art The common Father to the base Pissmire As well as great Alcide● did the fire From thine owne Altar which the gods adore Kindle the Souls of Gnats and Wasps before Who would delight in his chast eyes to see Dormise to strike 〈◊〉 Lights of Poesie Faction and Envy now is downright Rage Once a five knotted whip there was the Stage The Beadle and the ●xec●tioner To whip small Errors and the great ones tear Now as er'e Nimrod the first King he w●i●es That 's strongest th'ablest deepest bites The Muses weeping fly their Hill to see Their noblest Sons of peace in Mutinie Could there nought else this civil war compleat But Poets raging with Poetick heat Tearing themselves and th endl●sse wrea●h as though Immortal they their wrath should be so too And doubly fir'd Apollo burns to see In silent Helicon a Naumachie Parnassus hears these as his first alarms Never till now Minerva was in arms O more then Conqu'ror of the World great Rome Thy Hero's did with gentleness or'e come Thy Foes themselves but one another first Whilst Envy stript alone was left and burst The learn'd Decemviri 't is true did strive But to add flames to keep their fame alive Whilst the eternal Lawrel hung i th' Air Nor of these ten Sons was there found one Heir Like to the golden Tripod it did pass From this to this till 't came to him whose 't was Caesar to Gallus trundled it and he To Maro Maro Naso unto thee Naso to his Tibullus flung the wreath He to Catullus thus did each bequeath This glorious Circle to another round At last the Temples of their God it bound I might believe at least that each might have A quiet fame contented in his Grave Envy the living not the dead doth bite For after death all men receave their right If it be Sacriledge for to profane Their Holy Ashes what is 't then their Flame He does that wrong unwee●ing or in Ire As if one should put out the Vestal fire Let Earths four quarters speak and thou Sun bear Now witnesse for thy Fellow-Traveller I was ally'd dear Vncle unto thee In blood but thou alas not unto me Your vertues pow'rs and mine differ'd at best As they whose Springs you saw the East and West Let me a while be twisted in thy Shine And pay my due devotions at thy Shrine Might learned Waynman rise who went with thee In thy Heav'ns work beside Divinity I should sit still or might● Fal●land stand To justifie with breath his pow'rful hand The glory that doth circle your pa●'Urn Might hallow'd still and undefiled ●urn But I forbear Flames that ate wildl thrown At sacred heads ●urie back u●on their own Sleep heav'nly Sands whilst 〈◊〉 they do or write Is to give God himself and you your right There is not in my mind one sullen Fate Of old but is concentred in our state Vandall ore-runners Goths in Literature Ploughmen that would Parnassus n●w manure Ringers of Verse that All-in chime And toll the changes upon ever● Rhime A Mercer now by th'yard does measure ore An Ode which was but by the foot before De●ls you an Ell of Epigram and swears It is the strongest and the finest Wears No wonder if a Drawer Verses Rack If 't is not his 't may be the Spir't of Sack Whilst the Fair Bar-maid stroaks the Muses teat For milk to make the Posset up complea● Arise thou rev'rend shade great Iohnson rise Break through thy marble natural disguise Behold a mist of Insects whose meer Breath Will melt thy hallow'd lead●n house of Death What was Crispinus that you should defie The Age for him he durst not look so high As your immortal Rod He still did stand Honour'd and held his forehead to thy brand These Scorpions with which we have to do Are Fiends not only small but deadly too Well mightst thou rive thy Quill up to the Back And scrue thy Lyre's grave chords untill they crack For though once Hell resented Musick these Divels will not but are in worse disease How would thy masc'line Spirit Father Ben Sweat to behold basely deposed men Justled from the Prerog'tive of their Bed Whilst wives are pe●'vig'd with their husbands head Each snatches the male quill from his faint hand And must both nobler write and understand He to her fury the soft plume doth bow OPen nere truely justly slit till now Now as her self a Poem she doth dresse And curls a Line as she would do a tresse Powders a Sonnet as she does her hair Then prostitutes them both to publick Aire Nor is 't enough that they their faces blind With a false dye but they must paint their mind In meeter scold and in scann'd order brawl Yet there 's one Sapho left may s●ve them all But now let me ●ecal my passion Oh from a noble Father nobler Son You that alone are the Clarissimi And the whole gen'rous state of Venice be It shall not be recorded Sanazar Shall boa●t inthron'd alone this new made star You whose correcting Sweetnesse hath sorbad Shame to the good and glory to the bad Whose honour hath 〈◊〉 into 〈◊〉 tam'd These Swarms that now so angerly I nam'd Forgive what thus distemper'd Iindite For it is hard a Satyre not to write Yet as a Virgin that