Selected quad for the lemma: mercy_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
mercy_n	lord_n	people_n	spare_v	2,606	5	9.3833	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A16651	Barnabees journall under the names of Mirtilus & Faustulus shadowed: for the travellers solace lately published, to most apt numbers reduced, and to the old tune of Barnabe commonly chanted. By Corymbœus.; Barnabae itinerarium. English and Latin	Brathwaite, Richard, 1588?-1673.; Marshall, William, fl. 1617-1650, ill.	1638 (1638)	STC 3556; ESTC S106155	35,028	450

That would drinke till he grew mellow Draw neare and heare thou shalt have all Hearing joy in this my travall First day having drunk with many To Islington from London came I Journey long and grievous wether Yet the Ev'ning brought me thether Having t'ane my pots by th' fier Summer sand was never dryer Thence to Kingsland where were feeding Cattell Sheepe and Mares for breeding As I found it there I feared That my Rozinant was wear'ed When he would jog on no faster Loose I turn'd him to the pasture Thence to Totnam-high-crosse turning I departed 'fore next morning Hostesse on her Guests so doted Faustulus was little noted To an Hay-loft I was led in Boords my bed and straw my bedding Having thus left High-Crosse early I to Waltham travelled fairly To the Hospitall of Oswald And that Princely Seat of Th'bald There all night I drunk old Sack-a With my bed upon my back-a Of the Kings House at Tibbals Thence to Hodsdon where stood watching Cheats who liv'd by conicatching False Cards brought me with them plaid I Deare for their acquaintance paid I 'Fore a Iustice they appeared Them he praised me he jeered Thence to Ware where mazie Amwell Mildly cuts the Southerne Chanell Rivers streaming banks resounding Middleton with wealth abounding Mightily did these delight me O I wish'd them Aqua vitae Thence to Wademill where I rest me For a pot for I was thirstie On me cryde they and did hout me And like Beetles flockt about me Buy a Whip Sr no a Laddle Where 's your Horse Sr where your Saddle Thence at Puckridge I reposed Hundred Beggars me inclosed Beggars quoth I you are many But the poorest of you am I They no more did me importune Leaving me unto my fortune Thence to Buntingford right trusty Bedrid Host but Hostesse lusty That can chat and chirp it neatly And in secret kisse you sweetly Here are Arbours decked gaily Where the Buntin warbles daily Thence to Roiston there grasse groweth Medes flocks fields the plowman soweth Where a pious Prince frequented Which observing this I vented Since all flesh to Fate 's a debter Retchlesse wretch why liv'st no better Thence to Caxston I was led in To a poor house poorer bedding Some there were had me suspected That with plague I was infected So as I starke-naked drew me Calling th'Hostesse streight to view me Thence to Cambridge where the Muses Haunt the Vine-bush as their use is Like sparks up a Chimney warming Or Flyes neare a Dung-hill swarming In a Ring they did inclose me Vowing they would never lose me 'Bout mid-night for drinke I call Sr As I had drunk nought at all Sr But all this did little shame me Tipsy went I tipsy came I Grounds greenes groves are wet and homely But the Schollers wondrous comely Thence to Godmanchester by one With a Clowd as was Ixion Was I gull'd she had no fellow Her soft lips were moist mellow All night vow'd she to lye by me But the giglet came not ny me Thence to Huntington in a cellar With a wench was there a dweller I did bargaine but suspected By the Hoast who her affected Down the staires he hurr'ed quickly While I made me too too sickly Thence to Harrington be it spoken For Name-sake I gave a token To a Beggar that did crave it And as cheerfully receive it More he need't not me importune For 't was th' utmost of my fortune Thence to Stonegatehole I 'l tell here Of a story that befell there One who served an Atturney T'ane with beauty in his journey Seeing a Coppice hastens thither Purposely to wanton with her As these privatly conferred A Rover tooke him unprepared Search't his Port-mantua bound him faster And sent him naked to his Master Set on 's Saddle with hands tyed Th' Horse he neyed Man he cryed Th'Atturney when he had discerned One he thought behind him armed In white Armour stoutly sturr'd him For his Jade hee keenly spurr'd him Both run one course to catch a Gudgeon This Nak't that frighted to their lodging Singing along down Sautry laning I saw a Tombe one had beene laine in And inquiring One did tell it 'T was where Rainsford buried ●h ' Prelat I saw I smil'd and could permit it Greedy Priests might so be fitted To th' Newfounded College came I Commended to the care of many Bounteous are they kind and loving Doing whatsoe're's behoving These hold and walke together wholly And state their Lands on uses holy Whether pure these are or are not As I know not so I care not But if they be dissembling Brothers Their life surpasseth many others See but their Cell Schoole and their Temple You 'l say the Stars were their exemple Thence to Stilton slowly paced With no bloome nor blossome graced With no plums nor apples stored But bald like an old mans forehead Yet with Innes so well provided Guests are pleas'd when they have tride it Thence to Wansforth-brigs a river And a wife will live for ever River broad an old wife jolly Comely seemely free from folly Gates and gardens neatly gracious Ports and Parks and pastures spatious ●eeing there as did become me Written LORD HAVE MERCY ON ME On the Portels I departed ●est I should have sorer smarted Though from death none may be spared 〈◊〉 to dye was scarce prepared On a Hay-cock sleeping soundly Th' River rose and tooke me roundly Downe the current people cryed Sleeping down the streame I hyed Where away quoth they from Greenland No from Wansforth-brigs in England Thence to Burleigh though 't was winter No fire did the Chimney enter Buttries without Butlers guarded Stately gates were dooble-warded Hoary Chimneyes without smooke too Hungry Kitchins without Cooke too Hallowing loud ô empty wonder Ecco streight resounded hunger Who inhabits this vast brick-house Ecco made reply the Titmouse Ominous Cell no drudge at home Sir Ecco answer made Be gone Sir Thence to ancient Stamford came I Where are pencelesse purses many Neatly wrought as doth become them Lesse gold in them than is on them Clawbacks more doe not assaile me Than are Beggars swarming dayly Though my cares were maine and many To the Hole of Sara came I Once a bona-roba trust me Though now buttock-shrunke and rustie But though nervy-oyle and fat-a Her I caught by you know what-a ●aving boldly thus adventur'd ●nd my Sara's socket enter'd ●er I sued suted sorted ●ussed bouzed sneesed snorted ●ften sat she when she got up ●ll her phraze was Drink thy pot up Thence to Witham having red there That the fattest Eele was bred there Purposing some to intangle Forth I went and tooke mine angle Where an huge one having hooked By her headlong was I dooked Thence to Grantham I retiring ●amous for a Spire aspiring There a Pastor with his sweeting 〈◊〉 a chamber closely meeting 〈◊〉 great fury out he flung there Cause a Popish picture hung there Here the Townsmen are amated That