Linguistic DNA - Concept Modelling Demonstrator

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
son_n	father_n	holy_a	trinity_n	44,085	5	10.5936	5	true

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A59158	A pick-tooth for the Pope: or The pack-mans Pater Noster Set down in a dialogue, betwixt a pack-man, and a priest. Translated out of Dutch by S. I. S. and newly augmented and enlarged by his son, R. S.	Sempill, James, Sir, 1566-1625.; Sempill, Robert, 1595?-1665?	1669 (1669)	Wing S2495; ESTC R220992	14,443	31

'l rather quite his God and turn an Atheist Now what profession will they not permit For profit in their Sodom for to sit Except true Protestants most Apostolick And pure professors Christians Catholick Such they will never suffer in their city They persecute them all and have no pity But still pursue them both with sword and fire Like mad-men in their fury and their ire And like blood-thirstie raging Lyons roaring After their preyes like hungry Wolves devouring The blood of Saints when they can appreheÌ„d them I hope in God he dayly shal defend them Against their Devilish desperate intentions And their invective Jesuits inventions And all their wicked wiles and subtile shots Their most abominable powder plots See from their fountains what sweet water spring To send out tongues to kill their native Kings Both Prince and people to destroy they care not Man wife and child to put to death they spare no Mark what a vile report Queen Katherin caries For that mad Massacre she made at Paris Should any soul such sake-less slaughter smother So mishently committed by her Mother Who sent out bloody Boutchers to cut down The whole Protestants present in the town Both under trust and under cloud of night But I repose in Jacobs God of might He will undoubtedly ere it be long Both judge their cause and eke reveÌ„ge their wrong Albeit their bones be buried in the dust In God Omnipotent I put my trust As in the sacred Fathers we do read The blood of Saints shal be the Churches seed Though ye think your Profession true and pure Had ye a spunk of grace Man I am sure Hearing me make so many true relations How Rome maintains so gross abominations Her devilish doctrine soon ye would despite And questionless her courses quickly quite For Rome we see retains into her Treasure Popes perjury profanity and pleasure Priests Papists Pardons Prelates Priors punks Mass matines matrons mumbling with their Monks Contentious Jesuits counterfeit contrition That hellish hole of Spanish Inquisition Earth Epicures equivocating elfs Puft up with pampering pride of paltred pelfs Terrestrial temporizers truthless traitors False fained faithless filthie fornicators Unhappy hypocrites unwholsome whoors In beastly borthels Babylonish bowrs With shameless strumpets in their stinking Stewes Invyous Jesuits invective Jews Equivocation mental reservation The devil devis'd such doctrine for damnation They eat their God they kill their King they cousen Their neighbor is not this a great abusing With many monstrous things I cannot name On which to think it makes me sweat for shame As are these Rites maintain'd in Romes theatre And first the casting of their holy water Their exorcisme their images their altars Of crosses cups and pals Popes are exalters Of candles and of Churches consecration With vestments in the Church for decoration Their hypocritical hid Hermetages Their pennance and polluted pilgrimages Free-will and humane merite for offences With jugling Jubilees and indulgences And of the Saints their idle invocation And by the Pope their curst Canonization Auricular Confession vile pollution And for their sins a pay'd for absolution Their private Masses and their murmuration Their elevation transubstantiation Sir John if ye would hear me but record Some verses on the Supper of our Lord It was a friend of mine to me did send them Hee 's not a Christian will not commend them Priests make Christs both body and soul we need not doubt They eat drink box him up they bear about One is too little bread and wine Holds not him several so we dine Thou with thy Christ I with mine Is thy mouth the Virgine womb Is bread her seed Are thy words the holy Ghost Is this our Creed O presumptuous undertaker Never Cake could make a Baker Yet the Priest can make his Maker What 's become of all these Christs the Priests have made Do these hostes of ostes abide or do they fade One Christ abides the rest do flie One Christ he lives the rest do die One Christ is true the rest a lie R. S. Into the Gospel Take ye Eat ye Christ saith For which Receive ye Swallow ye your Priest saith See how by Popes the Sacraments are driven Where Christ makes two they ad five so make seveÌ„ For Baptism and the Supper of the Lord These only two did Christ to us afford With Christ his institution not content To these two true five bastards they augment A bastards name doth duly them befit For they were never reabled as yet Nor ever shal but still will be abhor'd Because they have no warrant from the Lord As Confirmation Pennance Extreme Unction With Priestly Orders to adorn their function And Matrimony they maintain as one But here 's a wondrous thing to think upon How Popes do call themselves Sorvi servorum Yet in procession keep a strange Docorum They tread on necks of Kings upon the street And forcing Emperors to kiss their feet Doth God the Father in his Law allow These vile inventions your Church doth avow Doth Christ his Son into his Gospel give Such wayes to walk in such faith to believe Or doth the holy Ghost in us inspire More then the Law and Gospel doth require The Father hath prescriv'd to us a Law To keep us in obedience and aw And Christ his Son our Savior did provide us His glorious Gospel always for to guide us The holy Ghost doth from them both proceed To guard us from our sins in time of need If we transgress the Law of God the Father Then neither grace nor comfort can we gather If we believe not in his only Son Then our belief is doubtlesly undone And if we breath not of the holy Ghost Then is our labor all our life-time lost But Gods Commandements your Kirk renverses Some she conjoyns and others she disperses She trusts in Saints and Angels many one And should trust in the Trinity alone Wherefore Gods holy Sprit can nev'r attend her Nor in distress or danger ev'r defend her And though she reign a while in pompe and pride I hope in God my good and gracious guide To her the true Religion hee 'll advance Ere long and bring her out of ignorance Wherein she hath these many hundreth years Lyen wilfully which manifest appears By her unwillingness from thence to part She is so obdurate and hard of heart So that except God by his mighty hand Her power her pride and cruelty withstand And force her from her filthiness to flie Of errors great and gross idolatrie So if she follow not Christs true instruction I fear her final dangerous destruction Which God forbid I hope in his own time Hee 'll both forgive and purge her of all crime Heard ever ye Sir John a purpose quicker To prove the Pope to be Christs only Vicar S. I. S. And though he were full Vicar to our Lord Should not his words and Christs keep one accord Priest Doubtless they do and never are contrary In Pater noster Creed nor

A PICK-TOOTH FOR THE POPE OR THE PACK-MANS PATER NOSTER Set down in a Dialogue betwixt a Pack-man and a Priest Translated out of Dutch by S. I. S. and newly augmented and enlarged by his son R. S. This pious PoÃ«me buy and read For of the Pope it knocks the head GLASGOW By ROBERT SANDERS Printer to the Town and are to be sold in his Shop M. DC LXIX TO THE READER THis Present for the present I present To you good Reader with my smal addition The which to imitate is my intent To match or over-match were great-ambition I but enlarge it not surpass for neither I may can will dare parallel my Father I may not for I cannot reach unto it And though I could I will not enterprise it And though I would could might I dare not do it To dare were with disdain for to despise it My Parents PoÃ«me only to express I press of new to put into the Press A CONFERENCE BETWEEN A PEDLER AND A PRIEST OR The Pack-mans Pater noster Which he learn'd in a Closter Whereof he sore repented And prayes it may be printed Not sitting for the Schools Yet School-master of fools A Polands Pedler went upon a day Unto his Parish Priest to learn to pray The Priest said Packman thou must haunt the Closter To learn the Ave and the Pater noster Pack-man Now good Sir Priest said he What talk is that I hear you speak but God in Heaven knows what Priest It is said he that holy Latine-letter That pleaseth God well and our Ladie better Pack-man Alace Sir John I 'le never understand them So must I leave your prayers as I fand them Priest Tush tush sayes he if thou list for to learn The Latine prayers rightlie to discern And sojourn but a little with me here Within a month I shal make thee parqueer Pack-man Parqueer said he that will be but in saying In words not sense a pratling not a praying Shal I Sir Iohn a man of perfect age Pray like an idle Parret in a cage Priest A Parret can but pratle for her part But towards God hath neither hand nor heart Pack-man And seeing I have head and heart to pray Should not my heart know what my tongue doth say For when my tongue talks if mine heart miscary How quickly may I mar your Ave Mary And I Sir having many things to seek How shal I speed not knowing what I speak Priest Because that God all tongues doth understand Yea knows thy very thoughts before the hand Pack-man Then if I think one thing and speak another I will both crab Christ and our Ladie his mother For when I pray for making up my pack man Your Ave Mary is not worth a plack man Priest Thy Latine prayers are but general heads Containing every special that thou needs The Latine serves us for a Liturgie As Med'ciners direct the Chirurgie And in this language Mass is said and sung For private things pray in thy mother tongue Pack-man Then must I have a tongue Sir John for either One for the Mother another for the Father Priest Thinks thou the Mother doth not know such smal things Christ is her Son man and he tells her all things Pack-man But good Sir John where learnd our Lady her Latines For in her dayes were neither Mass nor Matines Nor yet one Priest that Latine then did speak For holy words were then all Hebrew and Greek She never was at Rome nor kist Popes toe How came she by the Mass then would I kno Priest Pack-man if thou believe the Legendary The Mass is elder far then Christ or Mary For all the Patriarchs both more and less And great Melchisedeck himself said Mass. Pack-man But good Sir John spake all these Fathers Latine And said they Mass in Surplices and Satine Could they speak Latine long ere Latine grew And without Latine no Mass can be true And as for Hereticks that now translate it False miscreants they shame the Mass and state it Priest Well Pack-man faith thou art too curious Thy spur blind zeal fervent but furious I 'd rather teach a whole Coven of Monks Then such a Pack-man with his Puritane spunks This thou must know that cannot be deny'd Rome reign'd over all when Christ was crucify'd Rome Ethnick then but afterwards converted And grew so honest and so holy hearted That now her Emp'ror is turn'd in our Pope His Holiness as you have heard I hope He made a Law that all the world should pray In Latine Language to the Lord each day And this in our Traditions you may try Which if you list to read and shal espy The Pope to be Christs Vicar sole and sure And to the worlds end will so endure Pack man Surely this purpose puts me far aback And hath mo points then pins in all my pack What ever power you give to your Pope He may not make a man an Ape I hope R. S. But good Sir John before we further go Resolve me this since you assail me so How when and where this Vicarage befell Unto your Pope I pray you briefly tell Priest Know you not Peter when he went to Rome He there was execute which was his doom And in his latter will and Legacy At Rome he left his full Supremacy Unto the Pope which Legacy was given By Christ to Peter when he went to heaven And so the Pope though mediatly indeed By Peter Christs sole Vicar doth succeed And every Pope sensyne from race to race Succeeds each other in the Papal place Pack-man By your assertion surely I perceive You press to prove that Peter then did leave Such Legacy to those who did him murther Think ye such fond coÌ„ceats your cause can further That 's but a very falsly forged fiction And proves most for your Romish whoors coÌ„viction For Rome did falsly fall from Peters faith And Burreo-like bereft him of his breath And so your Pope doth merit no preferment But as an Hang-man Peters upper garment And still Sir John ye strive to play the knave Affirming falsly Peter did receive His Primacy from Christ when thus he spoke That he would build his Church upon that Rock As if on Peter Christ had only founded His holy Church for ever to be grounded To wrest the Scripture is your whole pretence Either into an ill or double sense Christ built his Church on Peters pure profession And on the solide Rock of his confession That he was Christ which is a firm foundation Against all Romish-Popish inundation I sory am to see you so unwise For Peter after that deny'd Christ thrice Christ built his Church on faith which byds a tryal And not upon poor Peters thrise denyal On this a friend of mine did make a Sonet A pretty one if I could light upon it Lo here it is and in it ye may read How your proud Pope to Peter doth succeed Why should profane proud Papists thus presume To say their Pope to

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