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Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
truth_n	age_n	young_a	youth_n	222	4	8.1811	4	false

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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A55276	Poems on affairs of state from the time of Oliver Cromwell, to the abdication of K. James the Second. Written by the greatest wits of the age. Viz. Duke of Buckingham, Earl of Rochester, Lord Bu-------st, Sir John Denham, Andrew Marvell, Esq; Mr. Milton, Mr. Dryden, Mr. Sprat, Mr. Waller. Mr. Ayloffe, &c. With some miscellany poems by the same: most whereof never before printed. Now carefully examined with the originals, and published without any castration.	Buckingham, George Villiers, Duke of, 1628-1687.	1697 (1697)	Wing P2719A; ESTC R26563	139,358	261

Dastards their Hearts their active Heat controuls The Rival God Monarchs of t'other VVorld This mortal Poyson among Princes hurl'd Fearing the mighty Projects of the Great Shall drive them from their proud Celestial Seat If not o'er-aw'd This new found holy Cheat Those pious Frauds too slight t' insnare the brave Are proper Arts the long●ear'd Rout t'inslave Bribe hungry Priests to deifie your Might To teach your Will 's your only Rule to Right And sound Damnation to all that dare deny 't Thus Heavens designs 'gainst Heaven you shall turn And make them feel those Powers they once did scorn When all the gobling Interest of Mankind By Hirelings sold to you shall be resign'd And by Impostures God and Man betray'd The Church and State you safely may invade So boundless Lewis in full Glory shines Whilst your starv'd Power in Legal Fetters pines Shake off those Baby-Bands from your strong Arms Henceforth be deaf to that old Witches Charms Tast the delicious Sweets of Sovereign Power 'T is Royal Game whole Kingdoms to deflower Three spotless Virgins to your Bed I 'll bring A Sacrifice to you their God and King As these grow stale we 'll harrass Human kind Rack Nature till new Pleasures you shall find Strong as your Reign and beauteous as your Mind When she had spoke a confus'd Murmur rose Of French Scotch Irish all my mortal Foes Some English too O shame disguis'd I spy'd Led all by the wise Son in Law of Hide With Fury drunk like Bachanals they roar Down with that common Magna Charta Whore With joynt Consent on helpless me they flew And from my Charles to a base Goal me drew My reverend Age expos'd to Scorn and Shame To Prigs Bawds Whores was made the publick Game Frequent Addresses to my Charles I send And my sad State did to his Care commend But his fair Soul transform'd by that French Dame Had lost a Sense of Honour Justice Fame Like a tame Spinster in 's Seraigl ' he sits Besieg'd by Whores Buffoons and Bastards Chits Lull'd in Security rowling in Lust Resigns his Crown to Angel Carwell's Trust. Her Creature O the Revenue steals False F h Knave Ang esy misguide the Seals Mac-James the Irish Biggots does adore His French and Teague commands on Sea and Shore The Scotch-Scalado of our Court two Isles False Lauderdale with Ordure all defiles Thus the States Night marr'd by this hellish Rout And no one left these Furies to cast out Ah! Vindex come and purge the poyson'd State Descend descend e'er the Cure's desperate Ral. Once more great Queen thy Darling strive to save Snatch him again from Scandal and the Grave Present to 's Thoughts his long scorn'd Parliament The Basis of his Throne and Government In his deaf Ears sound his dead Father's Name Perhaps that Spell may's erring Soul reclaim Who knows what good Effects from thence may spring 'T is God-like good to save a falling King Brit. Rawleigh no more for long in vain I 've try'd The Stewart from the Tyrant to divide As easily learn'd Vertuoso's may With the Dog's Blood his gentle Kind convey Into the Wolf and make him Guardian turn To the bleating Flock by him so lately torn If this Imperial Juice once taint his Blood 'T is by no potent Antidote withstood Tyrants like Lep'rous Kings for publick Weal Should be immur'd lest the Contagion steal Over the whole Th' Elect of the Jessean Line To this firm Law their Scepter did resign And shall this base Tyrannick Brood evade Eternal Laws by God for Mankind made To the serene Venetian State I 'll go From her sage Mouth fam'd Principles to know With her the Prudence of the Ancients read To teach my People in their steps to tread By their great Pattern such a State I 'll frame Shall eternize a glorious lasting Name Till then my Raleigh teach our noble Youth To love Sobriety and holy Truth Watch and preside over their tender Age Lest Court-Corruption should their Soul engage Teach them how Arts and Arms in thy young Days Employ'd our Youth not Taverns Stews and Plays Tell them the generous Scorn their rise does owe To Flattery Pimping and a Gawdy Show Teach them to scorn the Carwells Portsmouths Nells The Clevelands O Berties Lauderdales Poppea Tegoline and Arteria's Name Who yield to these in Lewdness Lust and Fame Make 'em admire the Talbots Sidneys Veres Drake Cav'ndish Blake Men void of slavish Fears True Sons of Glory Pillars of the State On whose fam'd Deeds all Tongues and Writers wait When with fierce Ardour their bright Souls do burn Back to my dearest Country I 'll return Tarquin's just Judg and Caesar's equals Peers With them I 'll bring to dry my Peoples Tears Publicola with healing Hands shall pour Balm in their Wounds and shall their Life restore Greek Arts and Roman Arms in her conjoyn'd Shall England raise relieve opprest Mankind As Jove's great Son th' infested Globe did free From noxious Monsters hell-born Tyranny So shall my England in a Holy War In Triumph lead chain'd Tyrants from a far Her true Crusado shall at last pull down The Turkish Crescent and the Persian Sun Freed by thy Labours Fortunate Blest Isle The Earth shall rest the Heaven shall on thee smile And this kind Secret for Reward shall give No poyson'd Tyrants on thy Earth shall live Advice to a Painter By A. Marvell Esq SPread a lage Canvass Painter to contain The great Assembly and the num'rous Train Where all about him shall in Triumph sit Abhorring Wisdom and despising Wit Hating all Justice and resolv'd to Fight To rob their native Country of their Right First draw his Highness prostrate to the South Adoring Rome this Label in his Mouth Most holy Father being joyn'd in League With Father Patrick D and with Teague Thrown at your Sacred Feet I humbly bow I and the wise Associates of my Vow A Vow nor Fire nor Sword shall ever end Till all this Nation to your Foot-stool bend Thus arm'd with Zeal and Blessings from your Hands I 'll raise my Papists and my Irish Bands And by a noble well-contrived Plot Manag'd by wise Fitz-Gerald and by Scot Prove to the World I 'll make old England know That common Sence is my eternal Foe I ne'er can fight in a more glorious Cause Than to destroy their Liberty and Laws Their House of Commons and their House of Lords Their Parchment Presidents and dull Records Shall these e'er dare to contradict my Will And think a Prince o' th' Blood can e'er do ill It is our Birth-right to have Power to kill Shall they e'er dare to think they shall decide The way to Heaven And who shall be my Guide Shall they pretend to say That Bread is Bread If we affirm it is a God indeed Or that there 's no Purgatory for the Dead That Extreme Unction it s but common Oyl And not infallible the Roman Soil I 'll have those Villains in our Notions rest And I do

all the powerfull Rhet'rick of the Tongue Nor sacred Wit cou'd charm thee on Not the soft play that Lovers make Nor Sighs cou'd fan thee to a Fire No pleading Tears or Vows cou'd thee awake Nor charm the unform'd Something to Desire Oft I 've conjur'd thee to appear By Youth by Love by all their pow'rs Have search'd and sought thee every-where In silent Groves in lonely Bowers On flow'ry Beds where Lovers wishing lie In sheltring Woods where sighing Maids To their assinging Shepherds hie And hide their Blushes in the gloom of Shades Yet there ev'n there though Youth assail'd Where Beauty prostrate lay aad Fortune woo'd My Heart insensible to neither bow'd Thy lucky Aid was wanting to prevail In Courts I sought thee then thy proper Sphere But thou in Crowds wer't stifled there Interest did all the loving bus'ness do Invites the Youths and wins the Virgins too Or if by chance some Heart thy Empire own Ah pow'r ingrate the Slave must be undone Tell me thou nimble Fire that dost dilate Thy mighty force through every part What God or human Power did thee create In my till now unfacil Heart Art thou some welcome Plague sent from above In this dear Form this kind Disguise Or the false Off-spring of mistaken Love Begot by some soft thought that feebly strove With the bright piercing Beauties of Lysander's Eyes Yes yes Tormenter I have found thee now And found to whom thou dost thy Being owe 'T is thou the blushes dost impart 'T is thou that tremblest in my Heart When the dear Shepherd does appear I faint and dye with pleasing pain My words intruding sighings break Whene'er I touch the charming Swain Whene'er I gaze whene'er I speak Thy conscious fire is mingled with my Love As in the sanctify'd Abodes Misguided Worshippers approve The mixing Idols with their Gods In vain alas in vain I strive With Errors which my Soul do please and vex For Superstition will survive Purer Religion to perplex Oh tell me you Philosophers in Love That can these burning fev'rish Fits controul By what strange Arts you cure the Soul And the fiery Calenture remove Tell me ye Fair ones you that give Desire How 't is you hide the kindling Fire Oh wou'd you but confess the truth It is not real Vertue makes you nice But when you do resist the pressing Youth 'T is want of dear Desire to thaw the Virgin-Ice And while your young Adorers lie All languishing and hopeless at your Feet Raising new Trophies to your Chastity Oh tell me how you do remain discreet And not the Passion to the throng make known Which Cupid in revenge has now confin'd to one How you suppress the rising Sighs And the soft yielding Soul that wishes in your Eyes While to the admiring Crowd you nice are found Some dear some secret Youth who gives the wound Informs you all your Vertue 's but a Cheat And Honour but a false disguise Your Modesty a necessary slight To gain the dull repute of being wise Deceive the foolish world deceive it on And veil your Passion and your Pride But now I 've found your weakness by my own From me the needfull fraud you cannon hide For though with Vertue I the world perplex Lysander finds the feeble of my Sex So Helen tho' from Theseus's Arms she fled To charming Paris yields her Heart and Bed On the Prince's going to England with an Army to restore the Government 1688 Hunc saltem everso Juvenem succurrere Saeclo Ne prohibite Virg. Georg. Lib. 1. ONce more a FATHER and a SON falls out The World involving in their high dispute Remotest India's Fate on theirs depends And Europe trembling the Event attends Their motions ruling every other State As on the Sun the lesser Planets wait Power warms the Father Liberty the Son A Prize well worth th' uncommon venture run Him a false pride to govern unrestrain'd And by mad means bad ends to be attaind All bars of property drives headlong through Millions oppressing to enrich a few Him Justice urges and a noble Aim To equal his Progenitors in Fame And make his life as glorious as his Name For Law and Reason's power he does engage Against the reign of appetite and rage There all the license of unbounded might Here conscious Honour and deep sense of Right Immortal enmity to arms incite Greatness the one Glory the other fires This only can deserve what that desires This strives for all that e'er to Men was dear And he for what the most abhor and fear Caesar and Pompey's cause by Cato thought So ill adjudg'd to a new Tryal's brought Again at last Pharsalia must be fought Ye fatal Sisters now to Right be Friends And make Mankind for Pompey's Fate amends In Orange's great Line 't is no new thing To free a Nation and uncrown a King On his Royal Highness's Voyage beyond Sea March 30. 1678. R. H. they say is gone to Sea Designed for the Hague But Portsmouth's left behind to be The Nations Whorish Plague Some think he went unwillingly Say others he was sent there But most conclude for certainty He 's gone to keep his Lent there What need I to apologize 'T is said nothing more true is The chiefest part of 's Errand lies To fetch in Cosen Lewis That both together as they say If one may dare to speak on 't Thro' Hereticks Throats may cut their way To bring in James the Second By Yea and Nay the Quaker cries How can we hope for better Truth 's not in him that this denies Read Edward Coleman's Letter Gar gar the Jockey swears faw things Man here is mickle work Dee'l split his Wem he 's ne'er be King Whose Name does rhime to Pork Cot 's splutter a Nails the Welshman cries Got shield her frow her Foes He near shall be a Prince of Wales That wears a Roman Nose The RABBLE 1680 THE Rabble hates the Gentry fear And wise Men want support A rising Country threatens There And Here a starving Court. Not for the Nation but the Fair Our Treasury provides Buckly's Go n's only care As Middleton is Hyde's Rowly too late will understand What now he shuns to find That nothing's quiet in the Land Except his careless Mind England is now 'twixt Thee and York The Fable of the Frog He is the fierce devouring Stork And Thou the lumpish Log. A New Song of the Times 1683 1. 'TWere folly for ever The Whigs to endeavour Disowning their Plots when all the world knows 'um Did they not fix On a Council of Six Appointed to govern though no body chose ' um They that bore sway Knew not one would obey Did Trincalo make such a ridiculous pother Monmouth's the Head To strike Monarchy dead They chose themselves Vice-Roys all o'er one another 2. Was 't not a damn'd thing For Russel and Hambden To serve all the Projects of hot-headed Tony But much more untoward To appoint my Lord Howard Of his own Purse and Credit

Horror and Anguish of Descenders there May teach thee how to paint Descenders here Canst thou describe the empty shifts are made Like that which Dealers call Forcing of Trade Some shift their Crimes some Places and among The rest some will their Countries too e'er long Draw in a corner Gamesters shuffling cutting Their little Crafts no wit together putting How to pack Knaves 'mongst Kings and Queens to make A saving Game whilst Heads are at the stake But cross their Cards untill it be confest Of all the Play fair dealing is the best Draw a Veil of Displeasure one to Hide And some prepared to strike a blow on 's side Let him that built high now creep low to shelter When Potentates must tumble Helter Skelter The Purse Seal Mace are gone as it was fit Such Marks as these could not chuse but be hit The Purse Seal Mace are gone Bartholomew-day Of all the days i' th' Year they 're ta'en away The Purse Seal Mace are gone but to another Mitre I wish not so tho' to my Brother I care not for translation to a See Unless they would translate to Italy Now draw a Sail playing before the Wind From the North-West that which it leaves behind Curses or Out-cries mind them not tell when They do appear Realities and then Spare not to paint them in their Colours though Crimes of a Viceroy Deputies have so Been serv'd e'er now But if the Man prove true Let him with Pharoah's Butler have his due Make the same wind blow strong against the Shore Of France to hinder some from coming o'er And rather draw the golden Vessel burning Even there than hither with her Fraight returning 'T is true the noble Treasurer is gone Wise Faithfull Loyal some say th ' only one Yet I will hope we 've Pilots left behind Can steer our Vessel without Southern wind Women have grosly snar'd the wisest Prince That ever was before or hath been since And Granham Athaliah in that Nation Was a great hinderer of Reformation Paint in a new Peice painted Jezebel Giv 't to adorn the dining Room of Hell Hang by her others of the Gang for more Deserve a place with Rosamond Iane Shore c. Stay Painter now look here 's below a space I' th' bottom of this what shall we place Shall it be Pope or Turk or Prince or Nun Let the resolve be Nescio So have done Expose thy Peice now to the World to see Perhaps they 'll say of It of Thee of Me Poems and Paints can speak sometimes bold Truths Poets and Painters are licentious Youths Quae sequuntur in limine T'halami Regii à nescio quo nebulone scripta reperibantur Bella fugis bellas sequeris belloque repugnas Et bellatori sunt tibi bella Thori Imbelles imbellis amas audaxque videris Mars ad opus Veneris Martis ad arma Venus The last Instructions to a Painter about the Dutch Wars 1667 By A. Marvell Esq. AFter two sittings now our Lady-State To end her Picture does the third time wait But e'er thou fall'st to work first Painter see If 't be'nt too slight grown or too hard for thee Canst thou paint without Colours then 't is right For so we too without a Fleet can fight Or canst thou daub a sign-post and that ill 'T will suit our great Debauch and little Skill Or hast thou mark'd how antique Masters Limn The Aly-roof with Snuff of Candle dim Sketching in shady Smoak prodigious Tools 'T will serve this race of Drunkards Pimps and Fools But if to match our crimes thy skill presumes As th' Indian draw out Luxury in Plumes Or if to score out our compendious Fame With Hook then through your Microscope take aim Where like the new Comptroller all men laugh To see a tall Louse brandish a white Staff Else shalt thou off thy guiltless Pencil curse Stamp on thy Palate nor perhaps the worse The Painter so long having vext his Cloth Of his Hounds mouth to feign the raging Froth His desparate Pencil at the work did dart His anger reacht that rage which past his Art Chance finisht that which Art could but begin And he sate smiling how his Dog did grin So may'st th●u perfect by a lucky blow What all thy softest touches cannot do Paint then St. Albans full of Soop and Gold The new Courts pattern Stallion of the old Him neither Wit nor Courage did exalt But Fortune chose him for her pleasure's Salt Paint him with Dray-mans Shoulders Butchers Mein Member'd like Mule with Elephantine Chin. Well he the Title of St. Albans bore For never Bacon studied Nature more But age allaying now that youthfull heat Fits him in France to play at Cards and cheat Draw no Commission lest the Court should lye And disavowing Treaty ask supply He needs no Seal but to St. James's lease Whose Breeches were the instruments of Peace Who if the French dispute his power from thence Can strait produce them a Plenipotence Nor fears he the Most Christian should trapan Two Saints at once St. German and St. Alban But thought the Golden age was now restor'd When Men and Women took each others word Paint then again her Highness to the Life Philosopher beyond Newcastle's Wife She naked can Archimedes self put down For an experiment upon the Crown She perfected that Engine oft essay'd How after Child-birth to renew a Maid And found how Royal Heirs might be matur'd In fewer Months than Mothers once endur'd Hence Crowder made the rare Inventress free Ol's Highnesses Royal Society Happiest of Women if she were but able To make her glassen Duke once maleable Paint her with Oyster lip and Breath of fame Wide Mouth that Sparagus may well proclaim With Chancellors Belly and so large a Rump There not behind the Coach her Pages jump Express her studying now if China-Clay Can without breaking venom'd Juice convey Or how a mortal Poison she may draw Out of the Cordial Meal of the Cacoa Witness the Stars of Night and thou the pale Moon that o'ercome with the sick Steam didst fail Ye neighbouring Elms that your green Leaves did shed And Fauns that from the Womb abortive fled Not unprovok'd she tries forbidden Arts But in her soft Breast Loves hid Cancer smarts While she revolves at once Sydney's disgrace And her self scorn'd for emulous Denham's Face And nightly hears the hated Guards away Galloping with the Duke to other Prey Paint Castlemain in colours that will hold Her not her Picture for she now grows old She thro' her Lackey's Drawers as he ran Discern'd Loves cause and a new flame began Her wonted joys thenceforth and Court she shuns And still within her mind the Footman runs His brazen Calves his brawny Thighs the Face She slights his Feet shap'd for a smoother race Poring within her Glass she re-adjusts Her locks and oft-try'd Beauty now distrusts Fears lest he scorn'd a Woman once assay'd And now first wish't she e'er had been a Maid Great Love how dost

Think fit as useless Tools to lay you by Besides what title or pretence have you To any thing ye hold as right and due Since they were setled first on us alone And could no other Lords and Masters own Till ye by Rapine Sacrilege and Force Discas'd us of our Rights and made them yours Nor can a Case more Legal e're appear At Court of Conscience or at Chanc'ry Barr Than what ye did by violence obtain Should to their ancient Lords return again But that which you so much insist upon Your boasted Loyalty and Service done From whence ye most erroneously inferr'd The Justice of your Claim to a Reward Is a meer trifle and a weak defence With no validity of Consequence For there 's no reason he should be repaid Who undesignedly a Kindness did When all the while his thoughts were fix'd upon His own advancement and increase alone And all the profit that to me he brings Is by the bye and natural course of things 'T was rancour envy meer revenge and spite That made ye thus against Fanaticks fight And the dear dread of losing all ye had That first engag'd your malice on our side To plead the Royal Cause and to promote The King's Concern and for Succession vote When could ye any other way have kept The Saddle and in ease and safety slept The King might have been banish'd hang'd or drown'd E're Succour or Relief from you have found But matters and affairs as yet are not To such a difficult Conjuncture brought But that an handsome fetch may bring ye off With Honour and Security enough One gentle turn will all the business do Advance your Livings and secure them too Safe ye shall lie from all Fanatick harms Encircled in your Mother-Churches Arms From which ye've stray'd so long and now to whom Ye ought in duty and respect to come The mournfull Levite straight prick'd up his Ears As glad that things were better than his fears And joyfull heard what means the Priest had found That might for his dear Benefice compound Compos'd his Band and wip'd his blubber'd Cheeks Stood up again and thus demurely speaks The Proverb to my case I may apply Winners may justly laugh and losers cry For when I thought my Livelihood was gone It was no wonder that I so took on As 't is none now Smiles should my gladness shew For these good tydings I receive from you Therefore dear Sir let us our Hearts combine And both in league against Dissenters joyn My self I under your tuition place For Management and Method in the case How to proceed The Cloak who all this while Had unprovok'd and unconcern'd sate still And wisely what they 'd both be at he guest Stood up to speak and to compleat the Jest But glowing Anger had so now prevail'd That in the first attempt he stopp'd and fail'd And when he found his Tongue to be confin'd He made his active Hands declare his Mind The one engag'd the Levite on the place And with the Directory smote his Face Confounded with the Stroke he stagger'd round And falling in his wrath tore up the Ground T'other he laid directly o'er the Chest Sent Ecchoes from the hollow Breast of Priest Who stumbling as he went to take his flight Fell prostrate o'er his new made Proselyte On both their bodies mounts the nimble Cloke And this his Epicinium manly spoke Dejected Wretches there together lie Unpitied unbewail'd by every Eye May after-Ages your curst Names deride As we your damn'd Hypocrisies and Pride No mark remain to know what ye have been But the remembrance of your Curse and Sin Which shall down time 's continual Tide descend To propagate your fatal shame and end So may they fall and all they that design Whoe'er in league against the truth combine By an unarm'd defenceless hand like mine Pleas'd with the Conquest of victorious Cloke I laugh'd aloud methought and so awoke An Epitaph upon Felton who was hang'd in Chains for Murdering the Old Duke of Buckingham Written by the late Duke of Buckingham HEre uninterr'd suspends though not to save Surviving Friends th' Expences of a Grave Felton's dead Earth which to the World will be Its own sad Monument his Elogy As large as Fame which whether Bad or Good I say not by himself 't was wrote in Blood For which his Body is intomb'd in Air Arch'd o'er with Heaven set with a thousand fair And glorious Stars a noble Sepulchre Which time it self can't ruinate and where Th' impartial Worm that is not brib'd to spare Princes corrupt in Marble cannot share His Flesh which oft the charitable Skies Imbalm with Tears daining those Obsequies Belong to Men shall last till pitying Fowl Contend to reach his Body to his Soul An Answer to Mr. Waller's Poem on Oliver's Death called the Storm Written by Sir W G n. 'T IS well he 's gone O had he never been Hurried in Storms loud as his crying Sin The Pines and Oaks fell prostrate at his Urn That with his Soul his Body too might burn Winds pluck up Roots and fixed Cedars move Roring for Vengeance to the Heavens above From Theft like his Great Romulus did grow And such a Wind did at his Ruin blow Strange that the lofty Trees themselves should fell Without the Axe so Orpheus went to Hell At whose descent the stoutest Rocks were cleft And the whole Wood its wonted station left In Battle Hercules wore the Lyon's Skin But our fierce Nero wore the Beast within Whose Heart was brutish more than Face or Eyes And in the shape of Man was in Disguise Where-ever Men where-ever Pillage lies Like ravenous Vultures our wing'd Navy flies Under the Tropick we are understood And bring home Rapine through a purple Flood New Circulations found our Blood is hurl'd As round the lesser to the greater World In civil Broils he did us first engage And made Three Kingdoms subject to his Rage One fatal Stroke slew Justice and the Cause Of Truth Religion and our Sacred Laws So fell Achilles by the Trojan Band Though he still fought with Heaven its self in 's hand Nor would Domestick Spoil confine his Mind No Limits to his Fury but Mankind The British Youths in Foreign Courts are sent Towns to destroy but more to Banishment Who since they cannot in this Isle abide Are confin'd Prisoners to the World beside No wonder then if we no Tears allow To him that gave us Wars and Ruin too Tyrants that lov'd him griev'd concern'd to see There must be Punishment for Cruelty Nature her self rejoyced at his Death And on the Waters sung with such a Breath As made the Sea dance higher than before While here glad Waves came dancing to the Shore Clarindon's House-Warming Printed formerly with the Directions to a Painter Writ by an unknown hand WHen Clarindon had discern'd before hand As the Cause can eas'ly foretell the Effect At once three Deluges threatning our Land 'T was the season he thought to turn Architect