Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
lord_n	begin_v	king_n	year_n	13,736	5	5.6587	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A42738	Thrēnodē, or Englands passing-bell	Gilbert, Thomas, 1613-1694.; Sherburne, Edward, Sir, 1618-1702.; Wild, Robert, 1609-1679.	1679 (1679)	Wing G723; ESTC R30410	15,121	27

From off the Grove refract the gentle air At these strange Eccho's being mov'd I stood Amuz'd a while at length drew to the Wood Where the first words that met my ear were these After a sigh Ay! they do what they please Would ever men that were not worse than mad Yea mauger all those cautions we have had Have done as we have done but 't is too late Now that the steed is gone to shut the Gate To whom reply'd another with an Oath Nay now no doubt but we shall thrive forsooth Our En'mies we have thrice quite overthrown And forc't their mourning Widows to atone Our Grace and Favour men could ne're have done More bravely and have won what we have won Old Noll the Tyrant would have gnasht to see The rich successes of his Enemy In his old Field recounting what it cost him Yo do what we have done yea what it lost him In not improving what his Tyrannie Had gain'd when he had brought them on the knee But what we could not chuse but prosper thus While God and man did so encourage us Indeed the Oracle spake plain methought But that we deem'd it as a thing of nought An accident in London ' s first Oblation Whose Gifts and whose Devotions acceptation Was witnessed by fire I think she may Expound the Omen now without a Key Provisions we had store but wisely cookt Great wages too but that t is most on 't bookt Such care our Commissaries had it 's sed Our very Powder-casks were ballasted In short most honestly 't was rigg'd and man'd Like to go through what e're we took in hand Well well Marinus said the other you Can jest it out as you are wont to do Iest said Marinus could I get my Pay It were a jest indeed the merriest day That I or my poor wife and babes have seen Since the first hour that we divorc't have been I would redeem their Pledg and set them free From thy contentious Parish-charitie The other griev'd to hear this well known story Breaks this Discourse Where 's then says he the glory Of your great Victories The glory said Marinus Nay you may see when those that undermine us Have done their shuffle and begin to cut Into whose hands the Master-Trumps are shut There 's nothing vext me more than this that we Must thus adventure Life and Liberty To take a Prize which then must be conducted By us their Convoys as they were instructed Take you Monsieurs must our Vict'ry make Courtiers of you and us slaves for your sake Is this the way to raise our Countrey credit And to eternalize his fame that did it Hold said the other now you seem to rage Passion can hardly keep due Equipage Passion quoth he I take him for an Ass Or for an Angel that in such a case Can rule his Passions but I 'le say no more Sith I can't say but what was known before The other whom by his discourse I take To be a Country-man reply did make It is observ'd said he though but by few We never thriv'd since that Black Bartholomew Then pluckt we out our Eyes and thought to see By a Canonical Ophthalmistry But now we 'r into Ditch who ever't were That led us thus but hark methink I hear The Pixie laugh but we shall cry I doubt Or something worse before we scramble out Ho! said Marinus if it be but so Turn something in and out and that will do Turn something in and out said th' other ay Were that but done we might hit out the way But how shall this be done Be done said he Why 't is half done already Out there be Coats turn'd enough might they again turn In Body and sleeve our hopes might here begin What hath this beetle brow'd suspicion spy'd In them or theirs it 's still so evil ey'd Since that most black and dreadful day of Bats That pip't our Fathers off to bring these Rats That 's not the business said the Country-man There 's still a jealous head though nothing can Be prov'd I doubt from that kind Principle On which Cain on his righteous Brother fell They must be Lords and rule like Kings but not By Canon Law but by their Cannon-shot But what let these alone a few years more May this mad Priesthood to their wits restore But there 's a cloud which hath been gathering About these six years if it chance to wring It self upon our shores our case may be The parallel of a sad Germanie Besides those home-bred vipers which we hug In our own breasts where they have drawn the Dug So dry that now they draw our very blood And here 's the curse it is not understood Not that we do bethink our Sov'raign Lord The utmost that our Lands or Lives afford But when our Plough-shares must perverted be Into Stilletoes for an Enemie This makes me fret and wish my limber goad In a just call might do as Shamgar's did Our Senators they say are in a maze They stare on us and we on them do gaze But 't is no wonder 't was once so with Saul We fight with God and therefore needs must fall Our Foes are greedy early strong and wise They 're on their way e're we can find our Eyes Our Eyes are lockt up in a Pix they say Where 't will be hard to get without the Key Lord help us Sir our Story 's like to be Our poor Posterities dismal Tragedy Thus we sit here and in complaining spend Our wretched Hours and Thoughts and to what END The ECCHO THine House is foul Lord wilt thou sweep We weep Lord sweep But with what Broom Fast then and throw the Shrub away The POSTSCRIPT READER 't is now almost six years twice told My Muse conceiv'd so that this Brat's born old Yet even then it had Nativity But ever since hath mist Epiphany I took it for still born and buried it As smother'd by an Epileptick fit But since that time it seems its Ghost hath walkt And with some Friends familiarly talkt I do not know whereof it might complain But this they say they 'l dig it up again In hopes to make the Bones and Dust to speak Which so long lay in silence and to break The nap of this poor Dormouse I confess It 's not grown out of season more or less Much of what then did look like Prophesie Late actions have turn'd into History So that to read aright thou must begin Eleven years back and think how things were then Yet some things here thou'lt find which I have reason Enough to think will ne're be out of season And once more may I speak but what I think You 'l find the bitterest cup is yet to drink The Ball is up by that the Game is out Those that survive will wish for death I doubt When that curst Fox that 's now unkennel'd shall Turn head against the Chase we stand or fall Ah me methinks I see the bloody Field But here 's my comfort Heaven is my shield I smell the Battel and you 'l shortly see How you are juggl'd to your Destinie When God shall heal the sickness of this Nation And purge her Blood by an Evacuation Yea when our veins shall weep their fountains dry And shed those crimson Tears which from the eye Might have been better spar'd then shall we know With what a God England hath had to do FINIS ☞ ☜ ☞ ☜ Eccho Weep Rome Ay.

lye Two Opposites might happy Union know If well concenter'd in some Tertio Three Contradictories will never be Espoused in a fair consistencie Those that consult the peace and good of State I think as case stands must accommmodate Sirs pity those poor hearts that cannot see With any other eyes than those that be Their own some squeamish stomacks turn at Cheese Which I won't give for all our Coquus Fees Were all confin'd to one Dish and no other You 'd poyson me with what you feed my brother When you can pare all Bodies to one stature And club the Elements into one nature And make all faces of the same complexion which will scarce be ev'n at the Resurrection Then may you find all Consciences agreed In nice Punctilio's and our judgments freed From quaint Idea's which not understood Have bred us this dissenting Brotherhood Religion is that Primum Mobile Of States and Kingdoms yea their Int'rests be Mov'd in their Politick Circungyrations Upon this golden Pole the soul of Nations Lord so co-ordinate each gliding Sphere As that their motions may not interfere Two parallel lines are never like to greet Till Capricorn with sultry Cancer meet If each would stoop to other you might see Our Tabernacl's handsome Canopie Our First is up where are the Builders now Come shut the Roof and let the Rafters bow Is it impossible such storms should rise From Hell or Rome as may convince our eyes Our Walls will tumble if they want a Cover Why 't is but mud though it be varnisht over All ope ' at top nay ev'ry Thief may enter And scale our naked Walls who 's mad to venture His Life and Fortunes on such Guards and let His Iewels hazard such a Cabinet Well! in this naked case I 'le pray I 'le sing To him that is both Walls and Covering Alas poor London who can see thine Ashes And not sit down and score those angry lashes Thy righteous Judg hath in just wrath inflicted For that whereof thou hadst been long convicted Thy Prophets were not dumb but thou wert deaf They warn'd in season but thy unbelief Was warning-proof like knotty crooked wood They rul'd and hew'd thee for a common good Until their hearts did ake and arms did tire At last thou art condemned to the Fire Thou could'st out-face the frowns of Pestilence Daring provoked Justice to commence In hotter Plagues That Cup is fill'd thee now That hath abasht thy proud and shameless brow Old Sodom was in our young London found Yea more than Sodom did in her abound And now if any will of London hear To Sodom he may go and find her there In thee was found the blood of Martyrs yea The murder'd blood of Royal Majesty Oaths Drunk'ness Lust and ravenous Oppression Pride and Deceit the spots of high Profession In thee was found the woman Iezebel With those infernal Locusts that compell Her Proselytes to commit Fornication Which were sad Omens of thy Desolation And now my Daughter may we come to treat With that poor Rag that 's left or art too great Yet to incline thy stubborn ear Remember In Sixty-six thou hadst a hot September He that thy Remnant like a smoaking Brand Then snatcht out of the fire with the same hand Can crush what he hath sav'd nay look thou to it Lest perad venture he indeed may do it True Penitentials might have prevented That fearful breach that 's now in vain lamented The Buckets of thine eyes had checkt the Flames If well appli'd 'fore all the Pow'rs of Thames But Epimetheus doth but aggravate And rake the wound by being wise too late Yet for the future if thou wilt be wise And re-espoused thus I do advise Thine Ashes steept in penitent tears may Make thee a Lie to wash thy shame away Thou hast been in the smoak and wash thou must Both in the smoak of Fire and smoak of Lust. Wash therefore make thee clean and thou shalt be As in the days of thy Virginity Thy Bricks are fallen wilt thou change them for The Hewen Stone and turn the Sycomore Into the Cedar yea and be it so And let thine Ashes to a Phoenix grow But yet I doubt thy pregnant hopes may prove A Babel's project unless God above Unite thy Languages and undertake Both to begin and a full end to make Be both thy Builder and thy Corner-stone And raise thee in a Modell of his own Lord rear thy London's Walls and purge her blood And let her know thou hast chastiz'd for good Make her thy Sion thine Emanuel's Land And let her Ruins be under thine hand The World is God's great Wheel his Providence The hand that turns it its intelligence The Wheel's in motion but the rising side Will still pursue their chase till they bestride The whole Circumference and then beginning To take their turn again they fall a whining Complain of Envy Pride Revenge Oppression Which just before was but their own ambition Rebeccah's Twins we catch each others heel And ne're observe the Dog that 's in the wheel Lord shall we e're have wit enough to know To poise our selves in Aequilibrio Sure God hath set his Ministers for Lights In a blind giddy world the Rechabites Of an apostate age but sure I am There are too many of the seed of Cham Yet can Canonical Adoption lurch And so are naturaliz'd Sons of the Church The Clergy's Gods inheritance but these Are Pliny's Insects Worms that spoil the Bees Those sweet industrious creatures Aesop's Dogs That starve the Ox but will not touch the Hogs Whose blushing Carbuncles and purple faces Are no Crown Iewels nor the Churches Graces Will a debauched Clergy e're invest Your Cause with an applauded Interest In sober minds Will a sulphureous zeal In things confest indifferent ever heal Our dismal breaches or what do you hope To make us your Peace-offring to the Pope But I have better thoughts yet pray take heed Lest you and we both offer'd be indeed While we contend for shadows there are those That will their greedy clutches interpose And seize that Morsel which preserv'd might be The Medium of our Correspondencie What! are we Artick and Antartick must The Mother separate the Babes she nurst Did one womb bare us and what are we now No nearer kin at all than I and thou Sirs is 't not bold enough to set your Post By Gods to introduce a ragged Host Of Ceremonies borrowed of that Groom For the most part that keeps his Stall at Rome But would you back to Egypt shuffle too In hopes to feast it on their flesh-pots you May chance to change your wood for worser Timber Nay there 's a Red Sea too as I remember 'Twixt us and them where Pharoah and his Host Were buri'd once although his restless Ghost Still haunt our shores and with his Magick strive To serve his Capias on 's Dead or alive Are Egypt's Leeks such Dishes let me tell ye Their Tale of Bricks may chance to