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Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
sense_n	advise_v	author_n	great_a	13	3	2.0729	3	false

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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A36624	Examen poeticum being the third part of miscellany poems containing variety of new translations of the ancient poets, together with many original copies by the most eminent hands.	Dryden, John, 1631-1700.; Fracastoro, Girolamo, 1478-1553. Syphilis.; Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715.	1693 (1693)	Wing D2277; ESTC R122	135,928	614

where e're he flew Gather'd the Sweets which on sweet Blossoms grew Babel's confused Speeches on his Tongue With a sweet Harmony and Concord hung More Countries than for Homer did contest Do strive who most were by his Presence blest Nor did his Wisdom damp his Martial Fire Minerva both her Portions did inspire Use of the Warlike Bow and Peaceful Lyre So Caesar doubly triumph'd when he wrote Showing like Wit as Valour when he fought If God as Plato taught Example takes From his own Works and Souls by Patterns makes Much of himself in him he did unfold And cast him in his Darling Sidney's Mold Of too refin'd a Substance to be old Both did alike disdain an Hero's Rage Shou'd come like an Inheritance by Age. Ambitiously did both conspire to twist Bays with the Ivy which their Temples kist Scorning to wait the slow advance of Time Both fell like early Blossoms in their Prime By blind Events and Providence's Crime Yet both like Codrus o're their yielding Foe Obtain'd the Conquest in their Overthrow And longer Life do purchase by their Death In Fame compleating what they want in breath Oh! had kind Fate stretcht the contracted Span To the full Glories of a perfect Man And as he grew cou'd every rolling Year A new addition to our Wonder bear H 'had paid to his Illustrious Line that Stock Of ancient Honour which from thence he took But oh So hasty Fruits and too ambitious Flowers Scorning the Midwifery of ripening Showers In spight of Frosts spring from th' unwilling Earth But find a nip untimely as their birth Abortive Issues so delude the Womb. And scarce have Being e're they want a Tomb. Forgive my Lord the Muse that does aspire With a new breath to fan your raging Fire Whose each officious and unskilful sound Can with fresh Torture but enlarge the wound Cou'd I with David curse the guilty Plain Where one more lov'd than Jonathan was slain Or cou'd I flights high as his Merits raise Clear as his Vertue deathless as his Praise None who tho' Laurels crown'd their aged Head Admir'd him living and ador'd him dead With more Devotion shou'd enroll his Name In the long Consecrated List of Fame But since my artless and unhallow'd Strain Will the high worth it should commend prophane Since I despair my humble Verse shou'd prove Great as your loss or tender as your Love My Heart with sighings and with tears mine Eye Shall the defect of written Grief supply THE INSECT AGAINST BULK Inest sua gratia parvis By Mr. YALDEN. WHere Greatness is to Nature's Works deny'd In Worth and Beauty it is well supply'd In a small space the more Perfection's shown And what is exquisite in Little 's done Thus Beams contracted in a narrow Glass To Flames convert their larger useless Rays 'T is Nature's smallest products please the Eye Whilst greater Births pass unreguarded by Her Monsters seem a Violence to sight They 're form'd for Terrour Insects to delight Thus when she nicely frames a piece of Art Fine are her stroaks and small in every part No Labour can she boast more wonderful Than to inform an Atom with a Soul To animate her little beauteous Fly And cloath it in her gaudy'ft Drapery Thus does the little Epigram delight And charm us with its minature of Wit Whilst tedious Authors give the Reader pain Weary his thoughts and make him toil in vain Whenin less Volumes we more pleasure find And what diverts still best informs the Mind 'T is the small Infect looks correct and fair And seems the product of her nicest Care When weary'd out with the stupendious weight Of forming Prodigies and Brutes of State Then she the Infect frames her Masterpiece Made for Diversion and design'd to please Thus Archimedes in his Crystal Sphere Seem'd to correct the World's Artificer Whilst the large Globe moves round with long delay His beauteous Orbs in nimbler Circles play This seem'd the Nobler Labour of the two Great was the Sphere above but fine below Thus smallest things have a peculiar Grace The great w' admire but 't is the little please Then since the least so beautifully show B' advis'd in time my Muse and learn to know A Poet's Lines shou'd be correct and few Written in a LADY's Advic̄e TO A DAUGHTER 'T Is true in these well-polish'd Lines The Author 's Noble Genius shines A happy Wit a thought well weigh'd And in a Charming Dress convey'd Adorn each curious Page 't is true But what 's all this fair Maid to You Have lovely Faces need of Paint Are Manuals useful to a Saint Let careless Nymphs be ply'd with Rules Let Wit be thrown among the Fools In both of these You boast a Store Compar'd with which our Author 's poor Alas as He directs his Pen To Maids shou'd You advise the Men Shou'd You your easie Minutes vex To make Reprisals on the Sex We great Pretenders then shou'd find Our Selves our Darling Selves out-shin'd Not more in Body than in Mind She-Wit and Sense wou'd mount the Throne And our lov'd Salic-Law be gone Written in a LADY's WALLER THE Lovely Owner of this Book Does here on her own Image look Each happy Page each finish'd Line Does with Her matchless Graces shine And is with Common Verse compar'd What She is among Beauty's Herd The Poet boasts a Lofty thought In Softest Numbers Smoothly wrought Has all that pleases the Severe And all that charms a List'ning Ear. And such the Nymph is blest with all That we can Sweet or Noble call For never sure was any Mind Of all that from Heav'ns Treasury came Of better Make and more Refin'd Or lodg'd within a Fairer Frame Such Angels seem when pleas'd to wear Some lovely Dress of colour'd Air Oh! had she liv'd before the old Bard had so many Winters told Then when his Youthful Veins ran high Enflam'd with Love and Poetry He only to This shining Maid The Tribute of his Verse had paid No meaner Face no lesser Name Had fix'd his Eyes or fed his Flame Her Beauties had employ'd his Tongue And Sacharissa dy'd unsung Written in the Leaves of a FAN FLAVIA the least and slightest Toy Can with resistless Art employ This Fan in meaner Hands wou'd prove An Engine of small Force in Love Yet she with Graceful Air and Meen Not to be told or safely seen Directs its wanton Motions so That it wounds more than Cupid's Bow Gives Coolness to the matchless Dame To every other Breast a Flame AN Incomparable ODE OF MALHERB's Written by Him when the Marriage was afoot between this King of France and Anne of Austria Translated by a Person of Quality a great Admirer of the easiness of the French Poetry CEtte Anne si belle THis Anna so Fair Qu'on vante sifort So talk'd of by Fame Pourquoy ne vient Elle Why don't she appear Vrayment Elle a tort Indeed she 's to blame Son Loüis soûpire Lewis sighs for the sake Apres set Appas Of her

Tide comes rowling in Let a fierce unruly Joy The settled quiet of thy Mind destroy However Fortune change the Scene Be calm my Delius and serene II. Be thy Lot good or be it ill Life ebbs out at the same rate still Whether with busie Cares opprest You wear the sullen time away Or whether to sweet Ease and Rest You sometimes give a day Carelessly laid Underneath a friendly Shade By Pines and Poplars mixt embraces made Near a River's sliding Stream Fetter'd in Sleep bless'd with a Golden Dream III. Here here in this much envied state Let every Blessing on thee wait Bid the Syrian Nard be brought Bid the Hidden Wine be sought And let the Roses short-liv'd Flower The smiling Daughter of an Hour Flourish on thy Brow Enjoy the very very now While the good Hand of Life is in While yet the Fatal Sisters spin IV. A little hence my Friend and Thou Must into other hands resign Thy Gardens and thy Parks and all that now Bears the pleasing name of Thine Thy Meadows by whose planted Tides Silver Tyber gently glides Thy pleasant Houses all must go The Gold that 's hoarded in 'em too A jolly Heir shall set it free And give th' Imprison'd Monarchs Liberty V. Nor matters it what Figure here Thou dost among thy Fellow Mortals bear How thou wert born or how begot Impartial Death matters it not With what Titles Thou dost shine Or who was First of all thy Line Life's vain amusements amidst which we dwell Not weigh'd nor understood by the grim God of Hell VI. In the Same Road alas All Travel on By All alike the Same sad Journy must be gon Our blended Lots together lie Mingled in One common Urn Sooner or Later out they fly The fatal Boat then wafts us to the Shore Whence we never shall return Never never more The GROVE SEe how Damon's Age appears This Grove declares his fading years For this he planted once and eat The Maiden Fruits of what he set Young It was then like him but now Sapless and old is every Bow Thus my Lesbia will it be In time to come with Thee and Me. Come then in Love and youthful play Let 's pass the smiling Hours away Before this tender Amorous Mark Grow wide upon it's fading Bark And show like Damon's Grove that We Are Old and Gray as well as He. Love but one 1. SEE these two little Brooks that slowly creep In Snaky Writhings through the Plains I knew them once one River swift and deep Blessing and blest by Poets strains 2. Then toucht with awe we thought some God did pour Those Floods out of his Sacred Jar Transforming every Weed into a Flow'r And every Flower into a Star 3. But since it broke it self and double glides The Naked Banks no dress have worn And yon dry barren Mountain now derides These Vallies which lost Glories mourn 4. Such Chloris is thy Love which while it ran Confin'd within a single Stream Fir'd every tuneful Son of mighty Pan And thou wert mine and all Mens Theam 5. But when imparted to one Lover more It in two Streams did faintly creep The Shepherds common Muse grew low and poor And Mine as lean as these my Sheep 6. Alas that Honour Chloris thou hast lost Which we to thy full Flood did pay While now that Swain that swears he loves thee most Slakes but his thirst and goes away To the AUTHOR of SARD AN AP ALUS UPON That and His other Writings THo' Teaching thy peculiar business be Learn this one Lesson Schoolmaster of me Where good Sense fails the best Description's vile And a rough Verse the noblest Thoughts will spoil Think it not Genius to know how to scan Nor great to show a Monster for a Man Wound not the Ear with ill-turn'd Prose in Rhime Nor mistake furious Fustian for Sublime Believe this truth and thy vain tumbling quit What is not Reason never can be Wit From the Boy 's hand take Horace into thine And thy rude Satires by his Rules refine See thy gross faults in Boy leau 's faithful Glass And get the sense to know thy self an Ass. OF My Lady HYDE Occasion'd by The sight of Her PICTURE BY Mr. George Granville THe Painter with Immortal Skill may trace A Beauteous Form or shew a Heav'nly Face The Poet's Art less straitned and confin'd Can draw the Virtues and describe the Mind Unlock the Shrine and to the sight unfold The Secret Gems and all the inside Gold This dazling Beauty is a lovely Case Of shining Virtues spotless as her Face With Graces that attract but not ensnare Divinely Good as she 's Divinely Fair. Two only Patterns do the Muses name Of perfect Beauty but of guilty Fame A Venus and a Helen have been seen Both perjur'd Wives the Goddess and the Queen In this the third are reconcil'd at last Those jarring Attributes of Fair and Chast This matchless Charmer is a beam of Light Without a Cloud or spot for ever bright With Beauty nor affected vain nor proud With greatness eafie affable and good The Soul and Source of all that we admire Of every Joy but hope to our desire Like the chast Moon she shines to all Mankind But to Endymion is her Love confin'd What cruel Destiny on Beauty waits When on one Face depend so many Fates Oblig'd by Honour to relieve but One By thousands we despair and are undone An Imitation Of the second Chorus in the second Act of Seneca's Thyestes By Mr. George Granville AT length the Gods propitious to our Pray'rs Compose our Tumults and conclude our Wars The Sons of Inachus repent the Guilt Of Crowns usurpt and blood of Parents spilt For Impious Greatness Vengeance is in store Short is the date of all ill-gotten Pow'r Give ear ambitious Princes and be wise Listen and learn wherein true Greatness lies Place not your Pride in Roofs that shine with Gems In purple Robes nor sparkling Diadems Nor in Dominion nor extent of Land He 's only Great who can himself command Whose Guard is peaceful Innocence whose Guide Is faithful Reason who is void of Pride Checking Ambition nor is idly vain Of the false Incense of a popular Train Who without strife or envy can behold His Neighbour's Plenty and his heaps of Gold Nor covets other Wealth but what we find In the Possessions of a Virtuous Mind Fearless he sees who is with Virtue crown'd The Tempest rage and hears the Thunder sound Most truly Noble who contemning Fate In midst of Spears and Javelins keeps his State Compos'd and firm he stands nor shrinks to feel The piercing Arrow or the pointed Steel Disdaining Chance regardless he looks down Ever the same whether she smile or frown Serenely as he liv'd resigns his breath Meets Destiny half way nor grieves at Death Ye Soveraign Lords who sit like Gods in State Awing the World and bustling to be Great Boast not of Pow'r nor of Imperial Sway Vassals your selves who every Lust obey The

breast Form'd sad Conjectures of this dreadfull Pest This this said he the Gods avert our Fate Is that dire Curse which Phoebus did relate The Birds prodigious Song I now recall The strange Disease that on our Troops shou'd fall As therefore from the Altar they retir'd Our Gen'ral of the Native Prince enquir'd To what dread Power these Off'rings did belong What meant that languishing infected Throng And why the Shepherd by the Altar stood And wherefore Sprinkled with the gushing bloud To which the Island Monarch noble Guest With annual Zeal these Off'rings are addrest To Phoebus enrag'd Deity assign'd And by our Ancestours of old enjoin'd But if a foreign Nations toils to learn And less refin'd be worth your least concern If you have any Sense of Strangers fate From its first source the Story I 'll relate Perhaps you may have heard of Atlas name From whom in long descent great Nations came From him we sprang and once a happy Race Belov'd of Heav'n while Piety had place While to the Gods our Ancestours did Pray And gratefull Off'rings on their Altars lay But when the Powers to be despis'd began When to leud Luxury our Nation ran Who can express the Mis'ries that ensu'd And Plagues with each returning Day renew'd Then fair Atlantia once an Isle of fame That from the mighty Atlas took its Name Who there had govern'd long with upright Sway Was gorg'd intire and swallowed by the Sea With which our Flocks and Herds were wholly drown'd Not one preserv'd or ever after found Since when outlandish Cattle here are slain And Bulls of foreign Breed our Altars stain In that dire Season this Disease was bred That thus o'er all our tortur'd Limbs is spread Most universal from it Birth it grew And none have since escap'd or very few Sent from above to scourge that vicious Age And chiefly by incens'd Apollo's Rage For which these annual Rites were first ordain'd Whereof this firm Tradition is retain'd A Shepherd once distrust not ancient Fame Possest these Downs and Syphilus his Name A thousand Heifers in these Vales he fed A thousand Ews to those fair Rivers led For King Alcithous he rais'd this Stock And shaded in the Covert of a Rock For now 't was Solstice and the Syrian Star Increast the Heat and shot his Beams afar The Fields were burnt to ashes and the Swain Repair'd for shade to thickest Woods in vain No Wind to fan the scorching Air was found No nightly Dew refresht the thirsty Ground This Drought our Syphilus beheld with pain Nor could the suff'rings of his Flock sustain But to the Noon-day Sun with up-cast Eyes In rage threw these reproaching Blasphemies Is it for this O Sol that thou art styl'd Our God and Parent how are we beguil'd Dull Bigots to pay Hom'age to thy Name And with rich Spices feed thy Altar's flame Why do we yearly Rites for thee prepare Who tak'st of our affairs so little Care At least thou might'st between the Rabble Kine Distinguish and these royal Herds of Mine These to the great Alcithous belong Nor ought to perish with the Vulgar throng Or shall I rather think your Deity With envious Eyes our thriving Stock did see I grant you had sufficient cause indeed A thousand Heifers of the snowy Breed A thousand Ews of mine these Downs didfeed Whilst one Etherial Bull was all your stock One Ram and to preserve this mighty Flock You must forsooth your Syrian Dog maintain Why do I worship then a Pow'r so Vain Henceforth I to Alcithous will bring My Off'rings and Adore my greater King Who do's such spacious Tracts of Land possess And whose vast Pow'r the conquer'd Seas confess Him I 'll invoke my Suff'rings to redress Hee 'll streight command the cooling Winds to blow Refreshing Show'rs on Trees and Herbs bestow Nor suffer Thirst both Flock and Swain to kill He said and forth with on a neighbouring Hill Erects an Altar to his Monarch's name The Swains from far bring Incense to the Flame At length to greater Victims they proceed Till Swine and Heifers too by hundreds Bleed On whose half roasted Flesh the impious Wretches feed All quarters soon were fill'd with the Report That ceas'd not till it reacht the Monarch's Court Th' aspiring Prince with Godlike Rites o'er joy'd Commands all Altars else to be destroy'd Proclaims Himself in Earth's low sphere to be The onely and sufficient Deity That Heav'nly Pow'rs liv'd too remote and high And had enough to do to Rule the Sky Th' all-seeing Sun no longer could sustain These practices but with enrag'd Disdain Darts forth such pestilent malignant Beams As shed Infection on Air Earth and Streams From whence this Malady its birth receiv'd And first th' offending Syphilus was griev'd Who rais'd forbidden Altars on the Hill And Victims bloud with impious Hands did spill He first wore Buboes dreadfull to the sight First felt strange Pains and sleepless past the Night From him the Malady receiv'd its name The neighbouring Shepherds catcht the spreading Flame At last in City and in Court 't was known And seiz'd th' ambitious Monarch on his Throne In this distress the wretched Tribes repair To Ammerice the Gods Interpreter Chief Priestess of the consecrated Wood In whose Retreats the awfull Tripod stood From whence the Gods responsal she exprest The Crowd enquire what Cause produc'd this Pest What God enrag'd and how to be appeas'd And last what Cure remain'd for the Diseas'd To whom the Nymph reply'd the Sun incens'd With just revenge these Torments has commenc'd What man can with immortal Pow'rs compare Fly wretches fly his Altars soon repair Load them with Incense Him with Pray'rs invade His Anger will not easily be laid Your Doom is past black Styx has heard him swear This Plague should never be extinguisht here Since then your Soil must ne'er be wholly free Beg Heav'n at least to yield some Remedy A milkwhite Cow on Juno's Altar lay To Mother Earth a jet-black Heifer slay One from above the happy Seeds shall shed The other rear the Grove and make it spread That onely for your Grief a Cure shall yield She said the Croud return'd to th' open'd Field Rais'd Altars to the Sun without delay To Mother Earth and Juno Victims slay 'T will seem most strange what now I shall declare But by our Gods and Ancestours I swear 'T is sacred Truth These Groves that spread so wide and look so green Within this Isle till then were never seen But now before their Eyes the Plants were found To spring and in an instant Shade the ground The Priest forthwith bids Sacrifice be done And Justice paid to the offended Sun Some destin'd Head t' attone the Crimes of all On Syphilus the dreadfull Lot did fall Who now was plac'd before the Altar bound His head with sacrificial Garlands crown'd His Throat laid open to the lifted Knife But interceding Juno spar'd his Life Commands them in his stead a Heifer slay For Phoebus Rage was now remov'd away This made our gratefull Ancestours enjoin When first these annual Rites they did assign That to the Altar bound a Swine each time Should sland to witness Syphilus his Crime All this infected Throng whom you behold Smart for their Ancestours Offence of old To heal their Plague this Sacrifice is done And reconcile them to th' offended Sun The Rites perform'd the hallow'd Boughs they seize The speedy certain Cure for their Disease With such discourse the Chiefs their Cares deceive Whose Tribes of different Worlds united live Till now the Ships sent back to Europes shore Return and bring prodigious Tidings o'er That this Disease did now through Europe rage Nor any Med'cine found that cou'd assuage That in their Ships no slender Number mourn'd With Boils without and inward Ulcers burn'd Then call'd to mind the Bird 's prophetick sound That in those Groves Relief was to be found Then each with solemn Vows the Sun entreats And gentle Nymphs the Gardians of those Seats With lusty Strokes the Grove they next invade Whose weighty Boughs are on their Shoulders laid Which with the Natives methods they prepare And with the healing Draughts their Health repair But not forgetfull of their Country's good They fraight their largest Ships with this rich Wood To try if in our Climate it would be Of equal use for the same Malady The years mild Season seconds their desire And western Winds their willing Sails inspire Iberian Coasts you first were happy made With this rich Plant and wonder'd at its Aid Known now to France and neighbouring Germany Cold Seythian Coasts and temp'rate Italy To Europe's Bounds all bless the vital Tree Hail heav'n-born Plant whose Rival ne'er was seen Whose Virtues like thy Leaves are ever green Hope of Mankind and Comfort of their Eyes Of new discover'd Worlds the richest Prize Too happy would Indulgent Gods allow Thy Groves in Europe's nobler Clime to grow Yet if my Streins have any force thy Name Shall flourish here and Europe sing thy Fame If not remoter Lands with Winter bound Eternal Snow nor Libya's scorching Ground Yet Latium and Benacus cool Retreats Shall thee resound with Athesis fair Seats Too blest if Bembus live thy Growth to see And on the Banks of Tyber gather thee If he thy matchless Virtues once rehearse And crown thy Praises with eternal Verse FINIS ERRATA Page 5. line 12 for newer reade never p. 35 l. 3. for wandring r. wondring p. 58 l. 5. for to Bard r. Bard to * * Titles of Honour * * Edmerus Fleta † † De diis Syris ‖ ‖ Marmora Arundeliana * * Mare Clausum * * His Epitaph made by himself in the Temple Chappel * * Orestes * * Tarpeia * * Leander * * Hero NOTE The Translator propos'd to turn this Ode with all imaginable Exactness and he hopes he has been pretty just to Malherb only in the sixth Line he has made a small Addition of these three words as they say which he thinks is excusable if we consider that the French Poet there talks a little too familiarly of the King's Passion as if the King himself had owned it to him The Translator thinks it more mannerly and respectful in Malherb to preterd to have the Account of it only by Hear-say