Selected quad for the lemma: power_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
power_n	king_n	law_n	tyranny_n	2,707	5	9.6492	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A57500	Rome rhym'd to death being a collection of choice poems, in two parts / written by the E. of R., Dr. Wild, and others of the best modern wits.	Rochester, John Wilmot, Earl of, 1647-1680.; Wild, Robert, 1609-1679.	1683 (1683)	Wing R1758; ESTC R16454	52,573	136

be gone Go tell thy destiny to fools or none Kings Hearts and Councils are to deep for thee And for thy Stars and Doemons scrutinie King CHARLES Return was much above thy skill● To fumble out as 't was against thy will From him who can the hearts of Kings inspire Not from the Planets came that sacred Fire Of Soveraign Love which burst into a Flame From God and from the King alone it came To the KING SO great so universal and so free This was too much great CHARLES except for Thee For any King to give a Subject hope To do thus like Thee would undo the Pope Yea tho his Vassals should their wealth combine To buy Indulg●nce half so large as Thine No if they should not only kiss his Toe But Clement's Podex he 'd not let them goe Whil'st Thou to 's Shame Thy immortal Glory Hast freed All-Souls from reall Purgatory And given All-Saints in Heav'n new Joys to see Their Friends in England keep a 〈◊〉 Suspect them not Great Sir nor think the worse For sudden Joys like Grief con●ound at fi●st The Splendor of Your Favour was so bright That yet it dazles and o'rewhelms our Sight Drunk with her Cups my Muse did nothing find And until now her Feet she could not find Greediness make Prophaness i' th' first place Hungry Men fill their Bellies then say Grace We wou'd make Bone-fires but that we do fea● Name of Incendiaries we may hear We wou'd have Musick too but 't will not do For all the Fidlers are Conformists too Nor can we ring the angry Churchman Swears By the King's leave the Bells and Ropes are theirs And let 'em take 'em for our tongue shall sing Your Honour louder than their Clappers Ring Nay if they will not at this Grace repine We 'l dress the Vineyard they shall drink the Wine Their Church shall be the Mother ours the Nurse Peter shall Preach Iudas shall bear the Purse No Bishops Parsons Vicars Cur●tes we But only Ministers desire to be We●l preach in Sackcloth they shall Read in Silk We 'l Feed the Flock and let them take the Mil●ust Let but the Black-birds sing in bushes cold And may the Iack-Daws still the Steeples hold We 'l be the Fee● the Back and ●ands and they Shall be the Belly and devour the Prey The Tythe-pigg shall be theirs we 'l turn the Spit We 'l bear the Cross they only Sign with it But if the Patriarchs shall envy show To see their Younger-Brother Ioseph go In Coat of divers colours and shall fall To rend it 'cause it 's not Canonical Then may they find him turn a Dreamer too And live themselves to see his D●eam come true May rather they and we together joyn In all what each can but they have the Coyn With Prayers and Tears such Service much avail With Tears to swell your Seas with Prayers your Sails And with Men too from both our Parties such I 'm sure we have can cheat or beat the Dutch A Thousand Quakers Sir our side can spare Nay two or three for they great breeders are The Church can match us too with Jovial Sirs Informers Singing-men and Paraters Let the King try set these upon the Decks Together they will Dutch or Devil Vex. Their Breath will mischief far beyond a Gun And if you lose them you 'l not be undone Accept dread Sir and pardon this coarse Paper Your License 't was made this poor Poet caper THE CHARACTER OF A True English-Man THe free-born English generous and wise Hate Chains but do not Government de●pise Rights of the Crown Tribute and Taxes they When lawfully exacted freely pay Force they abhor and wrongs they scorn to bear More guided by their Judgment than their Fear Justice with them was never held severe There Pow'r by Tyranny was never got Laws might perhaps enslave them Force cannot Kings are less safe in their unbounded Will Joyn'd with the wretched Pow'r of doing Ill. Forsaken most when they 're most absolute Laws Guard the Man and only bind the brute To force that Guard with its worst Foe to joyn Can never be a prudent Kings Design What Prince would change to be a Cataline Break his own Laws shake the unquestion'd Throne Conspire with Vassals to usurp his own Let France grow proud beneath the Tyrant's Lust Whilst the rackt People crawl and lick the Dust The mighty Genius of this Isle disdains Both High-shoon Slavery and Golden Chains England to ●ervile Yoke could never bow What Conquerors ne're presum'd who dares do now In vain your Holiness does rack your Brain No Son of yours that happy Isle can gain Arm'd with blest Bibles and undated Law They guard themselves and keep the World in awe Whilst CHARLES Survives and Parliaments can Sit They scorn your Tories Swords and Iesuits Wit ABHORRERS ABHOR'D ABhorr'd Abhorrers horribly Abhorr'd Monsters more base than Africk can afford What Not Petition to our Sovereign Lord That Parliaments might sit and save the KING And Kingdom too from those that both would bring To Slavery first Lawless Chains at Home And next intollerable Yokes from Rome Be gone ye Fops to France and there enslave Your selves and Spurious off-spring for a Knave Is fit t'en●ender Vassals but too brave Is this Rich Isle which only owneth those That Popish Bondage do resolve t' oppose Was 't thou in England born and 〈◊〉 born Free Thou profane Esan● Nay more vile than He To sell thy Birthright to the French and Pope Where all the Acquisition thou could'st Hope Was wooden-shooes Fire Fagot and a Rope Let Tyburn take thee and thy fellow Slaves And all detesting and Abhoring Knaves Then CHARLES lives sa●e and quickly may become The Head of ●ll Reformed Christendome S●●ure the ●elgick fears and ours at Home Blast 〈◊〉 de-Luces and the Keys of Rome 〈◊〉 after God to him our thanks we pay For this if but well-us'd sure healing day That our gr●●t Senate sits whose joynt Accord Does Vote ABHORRERS all to be Abhorr'd To the Parliament HAil Glorious Senate welcom as the day To wearied Pilgrims that have lost their way Night-Mare'd by Goblins and long led astray Welcom as Liberty to Al●ier-Slaves As Gold to Courtiers or Pardons to Knaves The half-dead Genius of our trembling Isle At your Approach revives into a Smile Each drooping Protestant begins look Gray And dull October Rivals sprightly May. By your Sage Councels we at once become A Match for haughty France and treacherous Rome But first subdue the Monsters here at Home Monsters that would our Sacred Faith and Laws Or'e-turn and in their never sa●iate Maws Swallow like Egypt's Vermin each green thing Enslave our Persons and destroy our King That seek to strike out both our Eyes and still Confine for sport our Sampsons to their Mill. Prevent those dire designs Dispel our Fears Blast the Plot at the Root and by your Cares Secure both us and our yet unborn Heirs May Heavens Blessing Crown all your Debates On

In telling this I might as tedious be As the return of their next Jubilee But these are petty Trifles petty Toys Tricks to catch Women gaping Fools and Boies They have devices of a larger Size Traps to ensnare the Wary and the Wise. And if you chance to boggle at the Bait They curse and cry Damnation be your Fate And then you swallow it at any rate Oh! what a melancholly dismal Story They roar in dying Ears of Purgatory That rather than the affrighted Wretch will bu●● So long he 'll all his Gold to Masses turn Thus Ecclesiastick Chymists you 'd admire Make real Gold by a fictitious Fire Next extream Unction comes from whence the Prie● Gets the most good by greasing in the Fist But of all cheats that necessary are Unto Salvation Aur●cular Confession bears the Bell and seems to me Next to Infallible Supremacy It wears a Holy Vail but underneath Is Shame and Slavery far worse than Death The Priest may tyrannize without Controul That knows the guilty secret of the Soul So when the Gentle Sex Confession makes That they have often sinn'd upon their Backs How easily the Priest comes in for snacks And shrieves the pretty Pen'tent Alamode No trick like a Iure Divino Fraud Thus are their chiefest Doctrines plain Device Pimp to their Pride their Lust and Avarice In Holy Apostolical Disguise In short the whole mysterious Cheat doth lye In Superstition and Idolatry Two Spurious Graffs Set in the Tree of Life Religion By whose luxurious Branches 't is o'regrown To such a monstrous Disproportion That first the Planters would it quite disown Religion like a modest Rural Maid No artificial Dress no Fucus had But was in Native Innocency clad Till in Rome's Court she ceased to be such Thence sprang her Infamy and first Debauch There laying plain simplicity aside She grew to lazie Wantonness and Pride Yet still some modesty confin'd her home Nor rambled she beyond the Walls of Rome Till proud of her successful Charms she grew Ambitious greatest Monarchs to subdue So by deceitful Arts sh' enlarg'd her Power And made them Slaves that she had serv'd before Then wisely some the Vassalage forsook Others repin'd as weary of the Yoke She jealous lest her Universal Sway Should lessen and her former Fa●e decay Mongst others did the Schoolmens Pen employ To vindicate her Truth and Honesty Schoolmen who ransack Sciences and Arts To prove with pains that they are Fools of parts So these her Honour justify'd in Words As Bully Iesuits Plot to do with Swords But both in vain for 't is concluded on Their Mistress is the Whore of Babylon Shift shift the Scene Alecto Fury Fiend Wake all thy Snakes and make this Tragick End By Hellish Art raise up in dark Cabal The Pope a Iesuit and Cardinal Thy self place in the middle raving Wood With Poysons Pistols Daggers Fire and Blood Now let this Scene start into sudden sight By gloomy Flashes of sulphureous Light There let his Holiness's Face appear Full of deep Counsel weighty thought and care Whilst each of you in awful silence hears The sacred Oracle with humble Ears Was it for this my ample Power was giv'n For this have I the Keys of Hell and Heaven In Vain I boast of a Supremacy And call my Chair the Universal See A little Nest of Hereticks cut off From Europe's Earth at all my power doth laug● Who though they kindly could decline to be A Bar to ballance Gallick Tyranny Yet still oppose my Holy Monarchy False Agents Heartless Traytors have you So often swore by Sacramental Vow Or to Convert this Island or undo Was your Commission scant did I deny Plenipotentiary Villany Have not I null'd Divine and Humane Laws That without Let you might promote the Cau●● Heaven's Laws though fix'd by an Eternal Seal Stoop and are liable to my Repeal Moses once broke these Tables often I Not to prevent but fix Idolatry Thus had your large Commission no restraint Nor did you Apostolick Blessing want Nay more the blackest Crimes in you were Merit For which all others endless Flames in herit So Treasons Murders Perjuries became Sure Monuments of your Eternal Fame So Nature's Course was chang'd yet nothing's done T' Advance the Catholick Religion Be gone Slave fly Delude with crafty Words If they prove vain use Poyson Fire and Swords Make better work on 't or I swear by th' Mass And the Divinity of Holy Cross These chance unlucky Words broke all the Spell They vanisht and Alecto sunk to Hell On the Murther of Sir EDMONDBURY GOD FREY ARe these the Popes Grand Tools Worshipful Noddies Who but blund'ring Fools Would ever have forgot To Burn those Letters that reveal'd their Plot Or in an Ale-house told that Godfrey's Dead Three Days before he was Discovered Leaving the silly World to call to mind That Common Logick They that hide can find But see their Master Pollicy on Primrose Hill Where their great Enemy Like Saul upon Mount Gilboa doth lye Fal'n on his Sword as if he himself did Kill But oh the Infelicity That Blood was fresh and gusht out of the wound This so congeal'd that not one spot was found No not upon his Sword as if it wou'd Tell us 't was guiltless of its Masters Blood Some Carkasses by bleeding do declare This by not bleeding shews the Murtherer But to its broken Neck I pray What can our Polititians say He Hang'd then stab'd himself for a sure way Or first he stab'd himself than wrung about His Head for madness that advis'd him to 't Well Primrose may our Godfrey's Name on thee Like Hyacinth inscribed be On thee his Memory shall flourish still Sweet as thy Flower and lasting as thy Hill Whilst blushing Somerset to her Eternal shame shall this Inscription bear The Devil 's an Ass for Jesuits on this spot Broke both the Neck of Godfrey their Plot. A Passionate SATYR upon a Devillish Great He-Whore that lives yonder at ROME A Pox on the Pope with his damn'd bald Pate What a stir hath this Toad made here of late Such a Noise and a horrible Clamour Is here with this Whore a Plague of God on her Must the Kingdom and State be at a loss Leave their sweet Peace to lye under a Cross Must Church and Church-men be expos'd to scorns Tost up and down by a Beast with Ten Horns Must Christians that know no more but one God Worship Ten Thousand or be scourg'd with a Rod Must Beads and a Cross and a Relick from Ione Make us fall down to Prayers right or wrong Must Hobgoblin Mass that 's learn'd of Old-Nick Complement God for the Well and the Sick Must Water bless'd by a Conjuring Monk Scoure away Sins from a Pockyfi'd Punk Must Souls be pray'd out the Devil hath got At so much per Mass else there they must rot Must Sinners be sav'd by Old Sinning Gulls I 'll ne're beg your Pardon those are damn'd Bulls Must We Canibal-like eat up