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heaven_n day_n earth_n firmament_n 2,551 5 11.8366 5 false
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A40247 An excellent ballad upon a wedding by the Honourable Sir F.F., Kt. of the Bath ; sett to a new Scotch tune by Moses Snow. Snow, Moses.; F. F., Sir. 1698 (1698) Wing F19; ESTC R176951 1,988 4

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An Excellent BALLAD Upon a VVedding By the Honourable Sir F. F. K t of the Bath Sett to a New Scotch Tune by Moses Snow B. M. The sleeping Thames one morn I cross'd by two contending Charons tost I landed I found By one of Neptune's jugling Tricks enchanted Thames was Turn'd to Styx Lambeth th' Elysian Ground II. THE Dirty Linkboy of the Day To make himself more fresh and gay Had spent five Hours and more Scarce had he comb'd and curl'd his Hair When out there comes a brighter Fair Eclips'd him o're and o're III. The dazl'd Boy wou'd have retir'd But durst not because he was hir'd To light the purblind Skies But all on Earth will swear and say They saw no other Sun that Day Nor Heav'n but in her Eyes IV. Her starry Eyes both warm and shine And her dark Brows do them enshrine Like Love's Triumphal Arch Their Firmament is Red and White Whilst the other Heav'n is but bedight With Indigo and Starch V. Her Face a Civil War had bred Betwixt the White Rose and the Red Then Troops of Blushes came And charg'd the White with Might and main But stoutly were repuls'd again Retreating back with Shame VI. Long was the War and sharp the Fight It lasted dubious untill Night Which wou'd to th' other yield At last the Armies both stood still And left the Bridegroom at his Will The Pillage of the Field VII But oh such Spoils which to compare A Throne is but a rotten Chair And Scepters are but Sticks The Crown it self 't were but a Bonnet If her Possession lay upon it What Prince wou'd not here fix VIII Heav'ns Master-piece Divinest frame That e're was spoke of yet by Fame Rich Nature's utmost Stage The Harvest of all former years The past's disgrace the future's fears And Glory of this Age. IX Thus to the Parson's Shop they trade And a slight Bargain there is made To make Him her Supreme The Angels pearch'd about her Light And Saints themselves had Appetite But I will not blaspheme X. The Parson did his Conscience ask If He were fit for such a Task And cou'd perform his Duty Then straight the Man put on the Ring The Emblem of another Thing When Strength is joyn'd to Beauty XI A modest Cloud her Face invades And wraps it up in Sarsnet Shades While thus they mingle hands And then She was oblig'd to say Those Bugbear Words Love and Obey But meant her own Commands XII The envious Maids lookt round about To see what One wou'd take them out To terminate their Pains For tho' they Covet and are Cross Yet still they value more one Loss Than many thousand Gains XIII Knights of the Garter two were call'd Knights of the Shoe-string two install'd And all were bound by Oath No further th●n the Knee to pass But oh the Squire of the Body was A better Place than both XIV A tedious Feast protracts the time For eating now was but a crime And all that interpos'd For like two Duellists they stood Panting for one anothers Blood And longing till they clos'd XV. Then came the Jovial Musick in And many a merry Violin That Life and Soul of Legs Th' impatient Bridegroom wou'd not stay Good Sir cry'd they what Man can play Till he 's wound up his Peggs XVI But then he dances till he reels For Love and Joy had wing'd his Heels And ●uts the Hours to flight He leapt and ●●ipt and seem'd to say Come Boys I le drive away the Day And shake away the Night XVII The lovely Bride with murd'ring Arts Walks round and brandishes her Darts To give the deeper Wound Her beauteous Fabrick with such grace Ensnares a Heart at every pace And kills at each rebound XVII She glides as if there were no ground And slily draws her Nets around Her Limetwigs are her Kisses Then makes a Curtsie with a Glance And strikes each Lover in a Trance That Arrow never misses XIX Thus have I oft a Hobby seen Daring of Larks over a Green His fierce occasion tarry Dances about them as they fly And gives them sport before they die Then stoops and kills the Quarry XX. Her Sweat like Honey-drops did fall And Stings of Beauty pierc'd us all Her Shape was so exact Of Wax she seemed fram'd alive But had her Gown too been a Hive How Bees had thither flock'd XXI Thus Envious Time prolong'd the Day And stretcht the Prologue to the Play Long stopt the sluggish Watch At last a Voice came from above Which call'd the Bridegroom and his Love To consummate the Match XXII But as if Heav'n wou'd it retard A Banquet comes like the Night-Guard Which stay'd them half the Night The Bridegroom then with 's Men retir'd The Train was laying to be fir'd He went his Match to light XXIII When he return'd his Hopes were crown'd An Angel in the Bed he found So glorious was her ●●ce Amaz'd he stopt but then quoth He Tho 't is an Angel 't is a She And leap'd into his place XXIV Thus lay the Man with Heav'n in 's Arms. Bless'd with a thousand pleasing Charms In Raptures of Delight Reaping at once and sowing Joys For Beauty's Manna never cloys Nor fills the Appetite XXV But what was done sure was no more Than that which had been done before When She her self was made Something was lost which none found out And He that had it cou'd not shew 't Sure 't is a Jugling trade LONDON Printed for H. Playford at the Temple-Change And Sold by E. Whitlock near Stationers-Hall 1698.