Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
lord_n	work_n	work_v	year_n	322	3	4.4740	3	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A54795	Sportive vvit the muses merriment, a new spring of lusty drollery, joviall fancies, and a la mode lamponnes, on some heroic persons of these late times, never before exposed to the publick view / collected for the publick good by a club of sparkling wits, viz. C.J., B.J., L.M., W.T., cum multis alsis----	Phillips, John, 1631-1706.	1656 (1656)	Wing P2113; ESTC R36677	62,402	221

the Tinker by the hand Her wedded Lord to show Sayes here is the joviall'st tinker That ever I did know This is the joviall'st tinker And the dearest of his work For he 'll not drive a nail to th' head But he must have a Mark If you had been so wise Mad●m As I had thought you had bin Before you had set him on work You would have agreed with him Pray hold your peace good wedded Lord Think not of his work too dear For if you could do it but half so well 'T would save forty Mark a year And be not thou too long tinker And look not for any sending For if thou stay too long away My Caldron will want mending The admirable Song of Tom and VVill TOm and Will were Sheepherds swaines Who lov'd and liv'd together When faire Pastora grac'd their Plain● Alas why came she thither For though they fed two severall Flocks They had had but one Desire Pastora's eyes and Amber locks Set both their hearts on fire Tom came of a gentle race By father and by mother Will was noble but alas He was a younger brother Tom was toysom Will was s●d No Huntsman nor no Fowler Tom was held the properer lad But Will the better bowler The scorching flames their hearts did bear They could no longer smother Although they knew they Rivalls were They still lov'd one and other The scorching flames their heat did bear They could no longer smother Although they knew they Rivalls were They still lov'd one another Tom would drink her health and swear This Nation could not want her Will would take her by the haire And with his voyce inchant h●r Tom kept alwayes in her sight And nere forgot his duty Tom was witty and could write Sweet Sonnets on her beauty Thus did she handle Tom and Will Who both did dot● upon her For graciously she us'd them still And still preserv'd her honour Yet she was so sweet a S●e And of so sweet behaviour That Tom thought he and Will thought he Was chiefest in her favour Pastora was a lovely Lass And of a comely feature Divinely good and faire she was And kinde to every creature Of favour she was provident And yet not over-sparing She gave no lesse incouragement Yet kept men from despairing Which of these two she loved best Or whether she loved either 'T is thought they will finde it to their cost That she indeed lov'd neither She dealt her favours equally They both were well contented She kept them both from jealousie Nor easily prevented Tale telling fame hath made report Of faire Pastora's beauty Pastora's sent for to the Court There to perform her duty Unto the Court Pastora's gone It had been no Court without her Our Queen 'mongst all her train hath none Nor half so fair about her Tom hung his dog and threw away His sheep-hook and his wallet Will burst his pipes and curst the day That ere he made a Sonnet Their nine-pins and their bowles they brake Their joyes were turn'd to teares 'T is time for me an end to make Let them go shake their eares A Song 1. CLoris forbear a while do not ore-joy me Urge not another smile le●t thou destroy me That beauty pleaseth most and is soonest taken Which is soon won soon lost kindly forsaken I love a coming Lady faith I do And now then would have her scornful too 2. O cloud those eyes of thine bo-p●ep thy feature Warm'd with an April slime scorch not the creature Thus to display thy ware thus to be fooling Argues how rude you are in Cupids schooling Disdain begets a shent scorn draws me nigh 'T is 'cause I would and cann't make me try 3. Cloris I would have thee wise when Gallants woo thee And courtship thou despise fly those pursue thee Fast moves an appetite make hunger greater What 's stinted oft delights falls to the better Be kindly coy betimes be smoothly rough And buckle now and then and that 's enough A Song 1. UNderneath the Castle wall The Queen of Love sits mourning A tiring of her golden hair Her red-rose cheek adorning VVith a lilly-white hand she smote her brest And said she was quite forsaken VVith that the Mountains fell a leaping And the Fidlers fell a qu●king 2. Underneath a rotten hedge The Pedlars wife sits shiting A tearing of a Cabadge leaf Her shitten arse a wiping VVith a coale black hand she wipt her ars And said her fingers were beshit●en VVith that the mountains stood still And the Fidlers fell a spitting 3. The first beginning was Sallingers Round VVhere the Cow leapt over the moon And the good wife sh●● in the piss-pot And the cream ran into her shoon With hey stitch your nose in her breech And turn about knaves all three And we 'l have another as good as the tother If you 'l be rul●d by me 4. My sister went to market To buy her a taffety hat Before she came there her arse lay bare Lay you your lips to that Hey stitch your nose c. 5. The Fidler play'd his wife a dance And there sprang up a rose The Butcher bit his wife by the arse And she beshit his nose Hey stitch your nose c. 6. Cisly shit in the wood-yard And it flue East and VVest Cisly shit in the wood-yard And the plainest way was best It was well known to all her friends She made good pudding-pies Up she start and let a fart The syrop ran down her thighes 7. Fortune my foe hath stoln away my Bacon And powdred Beef and Mustard my mouth hath quite forsaken VVhich makes me fall unto my Bread Cheese O help strong Beer Ale or else my life I leese A Song in the praise of ALE NOr drunken nor sober but neighbor to both I lately walkt down in a dale A freind by the way desired me to stay And speak in the praise of a pot of good Ale But yet to commend it I dare not begin Lest thereby my judgement may happen to faile Because many men do account it a sin To speak in the praise of a pot of good Ale But yet by your leave when troubles arise And sorrow and care the heart doth assaile The best help to be found is to toss the pot round And to wash away care with a pot of good Ale It m●kes a man merry and full of conceits And as good as a Piper where musick doth fail He that soundly drinks no harm ever thinks But loves to commend a pot of good Ale The old wife whose teeth wag as fast as her tail Though old age by nature be feeble and fraile She 'l frisk she 'l fling and she 'l make the house ring If sh● be but inspir'd with a pot c. The Ploughman the Lab'rer the Thresher likewise That worketh all day for a groat with his flail● Speaks of no less things then of Queens and of Kings If he once be inspir'd with a pot c.

is never said of these Than what is said below Henry the seventh and his fair Queen Edward the first and his Queen Henry the fifth here stands upright And his good wife was this queen The noble Prince Prince Henry King Iames's eldest Son King Iames Queen Anne Qu. Elsabeth And so this Chappel's done Now down the staires come we againe The man goes first with a staff Perchance one tumbles down two steps And then they all do laugh This is the great Sir Francis Vere That so the Spaniards curry'd Four Colonels support his Arms And here h●s body's bury'd That Statu against the wall with one ey Is Major Generall Norrice He beat the Spaniards cruelly As is affirm'd in Stories His six sons there hard by him stand Each one was a Commander And play'd such pranks as nere was known To rescue the Hollander And there doth Sir George Hollis rest Brother to th' Earle of Clare For which when first they tell me One louse I doe not care But he hath something else to fame him For he was Major Generall To Sir Iohn Norrice that brave blade And so they go to dinner all For now the Shew is at an end All things are done and said The Citizen payes for his wife And the Prentice for the maid When th' are got out they stare about And they spie against the wall One with a pole-ax in his hand The greatest foole of all For he his Land did give away But no man knowes wherefore And he made the Common-wealth his Heire Like Flora the great Whore A Pastorall Song 1. A Silly poor Sheepherd was folding his sheep He walked so long he got cold in his feet He laid on his coales by two and by three The more he laid on The cuc-colder was he 2. But alas good wife what shall we do now To buy some more fewell We 'll sell the brown cow To buy some more coales to warm thee and me But the more he laid on the cuc-colder was he 3. Some sheepherds quoth she themselves can warm keep By fleecing their flock and by folding their sheep But when you come home with your tar-box crook It grieves me to see how cuc-cold you doe look 4. Alas wife I walk through dew dirt and mire While you perhaps warm your self without fire With a friend in a corner in such a sort as whereby The warmer you are the cuc-colder am I. A Medly 1. I Sow'd my Seed In a pleasant Field And it grew apace A blessed Harvest There was found To my disgrace And for to reap it I durst not stay My seed is sown I 'm overthrown I must run away 2. To climb a tree Where no boughes be But smooth withall I fain would enter But I dare not venter For fear of fall But above her knees Sir you may not go For being a stranger You may not ranger There will come danger in climbing so 3. Her milk white brest So neatly drest And all things neat Her leg and foot And all things to 't Were made compleat VVith her yellow haire sir when she wa● young That when I kist her Her eyes did glister As 't were the Sun A Medly COme all you Maids that list to marry And you that Husbands want I wish you not long to tarry For Husbands are grown scant Some are grown provident And others all for riches That well is she that is content With the linings of one's Breed up your children to schoole For that 's the best way to teach you●● And let them not play the foole But let them consider the truth For Girles they will caper and kick Oh how they will range about And a wench that is fifteen yeares old Good Lord how she longs for a Prick her out her work And let her Bone-lace weave For when that you most think of them They will you most deceive And you shall never gain a penny But still they will be plucking And think that they shall never have Their bellies full of Furmity is dainty cheere And Fish it must be spent Sir But H. doth swear he 'd rather have The belly of a pretty Wenches ye do me great wrong Which makes me the ruffer to wrinkle And had I not been very strong She had caught fast hold of my Pinching doth not go by strength Therefore you must leave off Sir If you had seen her lye at length Then you had seen brave sport Sir Brave Iack of Winchester had a fine dog The finest that ever was seen He gave it to his Mistress To bear her company This Dog was u●'d to run by her side When she was going to hunt And all the night long it lay in the bed A lick●ng about her Come hu●band away with this filthy curre It makes my fl●sh to rise He left off all and to her did fall And slipt between her Thine or mine for a pinte of wine And we 'l have it for supper Had you but seen her stretcht at length How strongly he did her The Ioviall Tinker THere was a Lady in this Land She lov'd a Gentleman She could not tell what excuse to make To have him now and then But writ a Letter to him And seal'd it with her hand Bid him become a Tinker To clout both pot and pan And when he had the Letter Full well he could it read His Brass and his Budget Then strait did he provide His Hammer and his Pinsors And well they did agree With a long Club on his back And orderly came he And when he came to th' Ladies gates He knocked most hastily● Then who is there the Porter sayes That knocks thus ruggedly I am a ●oviall Tinker And I work for gold and fee If you have any broken brasse Bring it here unto me I am the joviall'st tinker Betwixt this town and London At mending of a pot or pan Or clouting of a Caldron My Brass is in my Budget And my Rivets under my Apron I pray you tell her Ladysh●p I am come to clout her Caldron Madam yon is the strongest tinker Betwixt this town and London He prayes me tell your Ladyship He is come to clout your Caldron O go thy wayes good Porter And let the tinker in For I have work for him to do And money he may gain And when he came into the hall Upon him she did wink Sayes take him into the buttery And make the knave to drink Such meat as we do eat she sayes And such drink as I use For it is not any Tinkers guise Good liquor to refuse She took the Tinker by the hand Her work for him to show And down fast by the Caldron side Laid he the Lady low And gave to her a hammer All in her hand to knock That her own wedded Lord might think The Tinker was at work She put her hand into her purse And pluckt out five good Mark Said take thee this good Tinker And for thy good days work She took

please my minde It doth so ●ase behinde For to wipe For to wipe my ●ewel Tobacco 's my delight So 't is mine to sh Oh fine smack Oh brave ●ack my jewel 2. Tobacco onely can draw the vapours down from my troubled brain And from the bashful Pan vapours rise 'twixt my thighs to my nose again Five Pipes I have devour'd Five Pans I have deflowr'd full of fume Full of fume down flurting And yet I would have more And yet I have great store 3. Tobacco is a dish for an Earl for a Lord for a Knight for a Squire Than shiting who can wish greater if you please or occasion require Tobacco 's a fine thing But shiting 's for a King for the brains For the pains of the belly Tobacco who despise Then shiting who denies None I think Though I stink I tell ye 4. When I puff it through my nose I do make Fly such flakes I do mock the clouds When my arse to close-stool goes mark how I rap thunder-claps aloud My smoak doth dark the sun My raps out-roar a gun Oh that fart how it rattles This Pipe more I 'll pull This Pan I 'll shite more full So good-night We will shite out the battle 5. My nose mine arse doth blew doth throw Firy puffs counter-buff from my jaw My nose mine arse or doth blow or doth throw Firy puffs counter-buffs from my maw My nose hath made an end Mine arse and he are friends He 'll not j●st He 'll be kist but in spite not My ●ose will no more puff Mine arse hath shit enough Give ' some drink we shall P●nk if we wipe not A Lampoun HEre 's a Health to good Queen Mary we 'll have it ere we part And to King Charles her husband I 'll pledg't with all my heart Here 's a Health to my Lady Mary for whom I 'll spend my heart And to the Prince her brother and to the Duke of York Here 's a Health to my Lady Dutchess that loves red hair so well And to my Lord her husband that made her belly swell Here 's a Health to my Lady Dorset that rules the Royal twig And to my Lord her husband and his great Periwig Here 's a Health to my Lady Caernarvan that 's a pearl in each mans eye And to my Lord her husband that can both swear and lye Here 's a Health to my Lady Rich that looks so like a Witch And to my Lord her husband that can't endure the switch Here 's a Health to my Lady Kent that hath a bounsing C And to my Lord her husband that tickl'd my Lady Hunt Here 's a Health to my Lady of Newport that can both sing and dance And to my Lord her husband that 's run away to France Here 's a Health to my Lady Denby as sweet as Sugar-candy And to my Lord her husband that little Jack-a-dandy Here 's a Health to my Lady Wimbleton but fifteen years of age And to my Lord her husband that 's jealous of his Page Here 's a Health to my Lady Holland of all women the best And to my Lord her husband that goes so neatly drest Here 's a Health to my Lady Goring whose lies a cooling And to my Lord her husband that got his means by fooling Here 's a Health to my Lady Pembrook And so I 'll end my Song And to my Lord her husband that never did man wrong On a precise Woman ONe came to Court a wench she was precise And by the spirit did the flesh despise One mov'd a secret Match betwixt them two But she in sooth and sadness would not do He did reply So sweet and fair as she Made of the stuff all other women be Ought by the law of woman to be kinde And shew her self to bear a woman's minde Well Sir quoth she you men do so prevail With cunning speeches and a pleasant tale 'T is but a folly to be over-nice You shall but twenty shillings is my price If you a brace of Angels will bestow Come such a time and I am for you So He took leave then and with her husband met Told him by Law he was to pay a debt Intreating him to do so good a deed As lend him twenty shillings at his need Which very readily he did extend And th' other willing on his wife to spend So taking leave of him he went his ways Meeting his Creditor within few days And told him Sir I was at home to pay The twenty shillings which you lent last day And with your wife because you were not there I left it pray you with my boldness bear 'T is well quoth he I 'm glad I did you pleasure So coming home questions his wife at leasure I pray Sweet-heart was such a man with thee To pay two Angels which he had of me She blush'd and said he had been there indeed But you did ill to lend husband take heed It is not good to trust before you try Pray lend no more for it may breed some strife To have such knaves come home to pay your wife The Drunkard's Song WHen I go to revel in the night The Brewers dogs my brains do bite My head is too heavie and my heels are too light And I like my humour well well And I like my humour well With ipse he I line my head My Hostess 's Cellar is my bed The world 's our own when the devil 's dead And I like my humour well well c. Then I fall to talking of the Court Or about the taking of some Fort And I swear a lye for a true report And I like my humour well well c Now from the Wars I came I swear How I made a fellow die for fear How many I kill'd that I ne'er came near And I like my humour well well c. If my Hostess bids me pay the Score I 'll stand if I can and call her Whore Or stumble and reel out of the door And I like my humour well well c. The cape of my Cloak hangs all a one side My hat band 's lost and my hose are untide My heels on the ground begin for to slide And I like my humour well well c. Then justle with every post I meet I kick the dunghills about the street I trample the kennels under my feet And I like my humour well well c. The Constable then I curse and ban He bids me stand if I be a man And I tell him he bids me do more then I can And I like my humour well well c. If I fall to the ground the Watch-men see They ask me if I foxed be I tell them 't is my humility And I like my humour well well c. If I chance to justle with a Taylors stall My nose to the ground doth catch a fall We kiss and be friends and so we part all And I like my humour well well c. When I come home my wife will