Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
lord_n	daughter_n	father_n	son_n	10,765	5	4.8829	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A86606	Poems, and essays with a paraphrase on Cicero's Lælius, or Of friendship. Written in heroick verse by a gentleman of quality.	Howard, Edward, fl. 1669.; Cicero, Marcus Tullius. Laelius de amicitia. Paraphrases.	1673 (1673)	Wing H2973; ESTC R230675	88,758	208

so clos'd her famish'd Lips between I thought at first had been Death come to call Me by this Herald to my Funeral Or borrowed Shape of Witch that did appear To vex sad Guests by some Inchantments here Then I dispatch'd to Bed in hope Sleep might Reprieve the Ills seem'd threatned me this Night But there scarce Luke-warm lay'd but in a trice I felt worse Vermin than Curs'd Egypts Lice Fleas they call here this vexful nimble brood That long had suck'd the painful Carriers blood And now from this bold Custom dare maintain No blood so generous but their Lips may stain Thus in a moment did this active Crew Assault each Vein and from each loaded flew More swift than labouring Bees as if that I Had been all Honey for this nimble fly Sometimes I fear'd they would have made their prey On Soul and Body by this subtle way And as bold Epicurus once did call Atoms the VVorld's and Man's Original So seem'd these Particles of Life to try To suck mine too a like subsistency In this Amaze my Bed I soon forsake And from my Thoughts the swiftest Counsel take Which as I did the Sun in pitty shows Such chearful Beams as from glad Morning flowes I wish'd my Horse as swift as his that I From Night's worst Mansions this vile Inn might fly And that all Guests which next have Lodging here Might fewer Fleas there finde and better Cheer Love's Sympathy FRom Love the Loadstone Sympathy do's feel To which do's gently yield the hardn'd steel The Marble do's its hidden flames lament As on its smoothest Face Love's tears are spent For Love there 's nothing that do's want a sense What grows or lives partakes its Influence Each metals pond'rous Soul it 's like do's move And what 's not Gold partakes the Gold of Love The Diamond then more beaming Lustre wears When her transparent Male his flame prepares How Nature could thus Love and Life disperse Is too transcendent for my Thought or Verse Enough we know it is her kinder care That all subsistencies her Lovers are To every Sex she has a Sex assign'd Not as Men are by Hymen's Laws confin'd Nature do's not her limits so contract Love claims from her a larger Scope to act Man's Reason though the highest Lord of Sense Is forc'd to yield to its Omnipotence And thus we see its powerful Charms compel VVhen Mothers somtimes Love their Sons too well And Daughters can with Fathers do the same And so the Brother Courts the Sisters flame VVhether Venus then do's blush we cannot know Though near ally'd some tell her feat best do Laws may severely call it Nature's Sin Yet she has made for Love each Sex a Kin. On a Ladies little Dog THe gentle favours I perceive You oft this little Creature give With those Embraces and those kisses So many Mortals make their wishes My Muse is willing to record Since you are pleas'd to say the word 2. All that quaint Martial's Pen could raise To offer to smooth Catella Publii Epig 110. lib. 1. Issa's praise Is short of this you stroke and Love Yours though a Dog was meant a Dove Whil'st Nature pleas'd with her mistake Thus shap'd it chiefly for your sake 3. No Virgin in your Bed does lye But there does keep it Company On whom perhaps 't will fawn or creep But does your bosom chuse for sleep Though Cupid envy there its rest Who 'twixt your Breasts designs his Nest 4. Sometimes perhaps it farther gets Under your Smock as well as Sheets And so your Belly licks and Thighs I do not say what 'twixt them lyes Though Tongues polluted oft have bin This could not be a licking Sin 5. And as you thus Indulge its sleep Or wou'd with yours its slumbers keep This little Sentinel's awake T' defend the quiet which you take The Mouse it frighteth to her hold Lest her small noise be then too bold 6. No Joy or Sorrow is your own But by this Creature too is known So strangely taught by Nature's Book That it discerns your thought or look A Tongue it wants not much to speak Yet one does wish too for your sake Love Defined LOve is a Dwarf in Gyants Cloath Wearing the Robes which Lust bestows Loaded with vice yet nimblest so And by its power can wonders do Most surely purchas'd though most dear And yet more common far than rare A Spiritual being in a Humane Soul The Boy of Age and Fool of Youth Vertue its Lye and Lust its Truth This the nice Widows early know As they digest a Second Vow Though it provoke their Childrens Tears The Itch of Love takes up their cares The Virgin at Fourteen can grieve So long her Maiden-head should live Though hearts and looks Love's Language tell The pleasure is in Lust's small Cell Where Womans Love with Mans does meet And from their Tongues receive no cheat For this each Sex their Courtships show And all that Both the Thing may do If dull Platonicks will rejoyce In calling Love their Vertues choice Their dry desires such need not blame That can enjoy the Liquid flame Whoe're for Vertue Love would Paint Must partly make of Lust the Saint The Fair and Honest ask no more Then what 's illegal in a Whore The old One A Lady Old would needs a Loving go Which soon her long desire comply'd unto Her fancy she found young and bold her Lust H●r outward form she next to Wit does trust Wants she found some in every place but one Where Nature keeps desire when her part 's done So when the Earth cannot its teeming show It is refresh'd at least where Soil men throw The furrows in her Face her Womans Hand Neatly fill'd up and seem'd to Countermand Nature's decayes with her false Red and White Seeming by Day what she 'd be thought at Night Thus she adulterates her Teeth and Hairs And in despite of Nature young appears A flatt'ring Gallant feigns no fault to finde For we 'l suppose his ends oblig'd him kinde Through Love's own Region he attempts his way But finds he cannot Plough so deep in clay Her stiffness his oppos'd but fain would plye Though that was clos'd so long did open lye A Maiden-head he knew she could not have Yet more then Virgin did his entrance crave But such the Riddle is of Women old Their Lust is warm when Nature is most cold The Witty WIt in a Woman I desire With it she quickens best Love's fire A Whetstone sharpens most the Tool That something blunts when she 's a Fool. Dull if she be she 'l not soon know The heights belong to what we do And she that has in Love no trick Will hardly reach her Lover's nick But give me still a handsom Face I 'le fancy Wit in t'other place So well to man that part does fit She needs must feel she has there some wit For Love what VVoman wants a Soul Or can be call'd Dame-Nature's Fool. VVhere Beauty can't with VVit agree Give