Selected quad for the lemma: prince_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A46270
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A royal arbor of loyal poesie consisting of poems and songs digested into triumph, elegy, satyr, love & drollery / composed by Tho. Jordan.
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Jordan, Thomas, 1612?-1685?
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1663
(1663)
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Wing J1058; ESTC R3145
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52,735
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162
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Rapine shall deflower Famine and Plague Shall both at once walk the Round Then Swords shall be Physicians And by killing cure the wound 8. Churches and Towns With parallelles spires Shall vanish in the furious flames Of unconfined fires Such shrieks from earth To heaven shall flye That death will be less torment Then to hear each other dye Who ever famine 'scapes the sword shall destroy A story sad and truer Then the dreadful tale of Troy Frighted I wak'd And on my knee did implore Some mercy for my former crimes And vow'd to fight no more The Farewell 1. FAir Fidelia leave me now I may no more Thy Deity adore Nor offer to thy shrine I serve one more divine And greater far then you Hark the trumpets call away I must go Lest the foe Lose the King and win the day Let 's march bravely on Charge them in the Van Our Cause Gods is Though the ods is Ten times ten to one 2. Tempt no more I may not yield Although thy eyes A Kingdom might surprize Leave off thy wanton tales The high-born Prince of Wales Is mounted in the Field Where the loyal Gentry flock Though forlorn Nobly born Of a near decaying stock Cornish boyes be bold Never lose your hold He that loiters Is by Traytors Basely bought and sold. 3. One kiss more and then farewell Nay now give o're I prethee fool no more Why cloud'st thou so thy beams I see by these extreams A woman's heaven or hell Pray the King may have his own That the Queen May be seen With her Babes on Englands Throne Rally up your men One shall vanquish ten Victory we Come to try thy Favour once agen The Resolution 1642. 1. ASk me no more why there appears Daily such troops of Dragoneers Since it is requisite you know They rob cum Privilegio 2. Ask me not why the Gaole confines Our Hierarchy of best Divines Since 't was allow'd by full consent The Priviledge of Parliament 3. Ask me no more why from Blackwall Such tumults come unto White-hall Since some in Parliament agree â—Tis for the Subjects Liberty 4. Ask me not why to London comes So many Muskets Pikes and Drums So that we fear they 'l never cease 'T is to procure the Kingdoms Peace 5. Ask me no more why little Finch From Parliament began to flinch Since such as dare to Hawk and Kings May easily clip a Finches wings 6. Ask me no more why Strafford's dead Or why they aim'd so at his head Faith all the reason I can give 'T is thought he was too wise to live 7. Ask me no more where 's all the Plate Brought in at such an easie rate It to the owners back they 'l bring In case it fall not to the King 8. Ask me noâ— why the House delights Not in our two wise Kentish Knights Their Counsels never were thought good Because they were not understood 9. Ask me no more why Livesey goes To ceaze all rich men as his foes Whilst Countrey Farmers sigh and sob Yeomen may beg when Knights do rob 10. Ask me no more by what strange slight London's Lord Major was made a Knight Since there 's a strength sprung out of war That can at once both make and mar 11. Ask me no more why in this age I sing so free without a cage My answer is I need not fear All England doth the burthen bear 12. Ask me no more for I grow dull Why Hotham keeps the Town of Hull I 'le answer ye one word for all All things are thus when Kings do falt The Kingly Complaint The King Imprison'd at Holmby The Tune 1. In faith I cannot keep my sheep I Am a poor and patient King Though some are pleas'd to call me Pope But yet I have a holy hope God will relieve my suffering By letting Peace and Plenty spring That every man may have his own Then I shall sit agen upon my Throne 2. The Royal Consort of my age That hath so oft my Cradles crown'd With false aspersions they do wound According to their holy rage My simple Subjects they engage And arm them with a proud pretence To bring me home in beating me from thence 3. A Reformation next is sought Episcopacy must go down A Tinker's art must mend the Crown By Weavers we may well be taught But now at last they have us brought O're many rigid Rocks and Shelves They are contending what to be themselves 4. My Countreymen I most commend For they have made the most of me Alas it was their poverty They did it to no other end But they have too much valued Me And over-priz'd my Innoncence They could demand no more then thirty pence 5. A rout of Rebels ring me round Such is the King of Englands Court Who but to please their Pride in sport Have brought my Peers unto the ground They chase me like an Infidel Or one that Christian Blood betray'th Although I write Defender of the Faith Rebels Market 1646. 1. NOw that the holy Wars are done Between the Father and the Son And that we have by righteous fate Distrest a Monarch and his Mate Forcing their Heir flye into France To weep out his Inheritance 2. Let 's set open all our Packs Which contain ten thousand wracks Cast away on the Red Sea At Naseby and at Newberry If then you 'l come provided with gold We dwell Close by Hell Where we â—ell What you will That is ill For Charity there is cold 3. If by thee a Murther came We can give 't another Name But alwayes provided thus That thou hast been one of us Gold is the God shall pardon the guilt We have What shall save Thee from Grave For the Law We can awe Though a Princes blood be spilt 4. If a Church thou hav'st bereft Of its Plate 't is holy theft Or for zeal-sake if thou beest Prompted on to spoil a Priest Gold 's a prevailing advocate Then come Bring a summe Law is dumb And submits To our wits For Policy guides a State The Leaguer 1. JOyn thy ennamel'd cheek to mine I 'le bring thee where is rasie Wine And where a loving Leaguer's kept Where many tankard tears are wept For the Cash That is gone that is here Joy and grief in a tear We will wash There we study Revenges Make Plots without hinges More Black then the fifth of Novembers In our Pipe and our Cup Our Estates are rak'd up Till our eyes twinkle like to the embers 2. There with a sack-incensed face In speckled state and flaming grace With dabbled doublet doth appear The curral front of Cayalier With a bowle Full of sack such as can In the most dying man Raise a soul And forbids any venter The Leaguer to enter Or near it commit such a trespass If his cheeks do not shine With the blood of the Vine And his Nostrils appear like a Respass 3. In Fletcher's Wit and Iohnson's style There will we sit and fret a while Cursing the