Selected quad for the lemma: truth_n

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

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A65514	Westminster-drollery, or, A choice collection of the newest songs & poems both at court and theaters by a person of quality ; with additions.; Westminster drollery.	Person of quality.	1671 (1671)	Wing W1457; Wing W1462; ESTC R8083	74,828	262

Fryer as goes the story Came to push a Pike with him in vain glory But h● was almost sent to his own Purgatory By this old souldier c. With an old Ned Norrey● that kept Ostend A terrour to soe and a refuge to freind And left it Impregnable to his last end Like an old Souldier c. That in the old unfortunate voyage of all Marcht ore the old Bridge and knockt at the wall Of Lisbon the Mistris of Portugall Like an old souldier c. With an old Tom Norreys by the old Queen sent Of Munster in Ireland Lord President Where his dayes and his blood in her service he spent Like an old souldier c. With an old Harry Norreys in b●ttel wounded In his Knee whose Legg was cut off and he sed You have spil'd my Dancing and dyed in his bed An old Souldier c. With an old Will Norreys the oldest of all Who went voluntary without any call To 'th old Irish Wars to 's fame Immortall Like an old Soldier c. VVith an old Maximilian Norreys the last Of six old brothers whose fame the time past Could never yet match nor shall future time wast He was an old soldier c. VVith an old Dick Wenman the first in his prime That over the wal●s of old Cales did climbe And therefore was Knighted and liv'd all his time An old souldier c. VVith an old Nando Wenman when Brest was ore-thrown Into th' Aire into ●h ' Seas with Gunpowder blown Yet bravely recovering long after was known An old souldier c. VVith an old Tom Wenman whose bravest delight VVas in a good cause for his Country to fight And dyed in Ireland a good old Knight And an old souldier c. VVith a yo●ng N●d Wenman so valiant and bold In the w●●rs of Bohemia as with the old D●serves for his valour to be Inrold An old c. And thus of old Soldiers hear ye the same But never so many of one house and name And all of old Io●n Lord Williams of Thame Chor An Old Souldier of the Queens And the Queens old Sold●er A wo●rs Expostulation 1. ALl day do I sit inventing VVhile I live so single alone VVhich way to Wed to my contenting And yet can resolve upon none There 's a wench whose wealth would inrich me But she not delights me There 's anothers eyes do bewitch me But her fashion frights me He that herein Has a traveller bin And at length in his Longing sped VVhat shall I doe Tell me who I shall woe For I long to be lustily wed 2. Shall I with a VViddow marry No no she such watch will beare To spy how my selfe I doe carry I shall always live in feare Shall I to a mayd be a wooer Maydens are lov'd of many Knowing not to whom to be sure Are unsure to any Marry with youth There is love without truth For the young cannot long be just And Age if ● prove There is truth without Love For the Old are too cold to Lust. The Resolution 1. I Dye when as I do not see Her who is my life and all to me And when I see her then I dye In seeing of her cruel●y So that to me like m●sery is wrought Both when I see and when I see her no● 2. Shall I in silence mourn and grieve VVho silent sorrowes will relieve In speaking not my heart will rend And speaking I ●●y her ●●●end So that 'twixt Love and death my heart is shot With equall dar●s speak I or speak I not 3. Since life and death is in her Eye If her I not behold I dye And if I look on her she kills I 'le chuse the least of two such ills Though both be hard this is the easier lot To dye and see than dye and see her not 4. Yet when I see her I shall speak For if I speak not heart will break And if I speak I can but dye Of two such ills the least I 'le trye Who dyes unseen or dumb is soon forgot I 'le see and speak then dye or dye I not Love himselfe in Love 1. AS in May the little god of love Forsook his Mothers rosy rest To play to wanton and to rove His quiver where it pleas'd him best VVanting sport In idle sort An arrow where he could not tell From him glanced So it chanced Love thereby in Love besell 2. In sad Teares he to his mother pray'd to seek his shaft to lend him eyes VVhich she grants a bright and lovely Love taking up his dart espies But poore lad He better had Neer seen at all then now too well For being strook VVith her faire look Love himselfe in love besell 3. She too true a chastity embrac'd And from Loves courtship and his 〈◊〉 Nicely flew but when his houre was pass'd His sorrow with his sight was gone VVith us swaines She now remaines And every shepheards boy can tell This is she That love did see VVho seeing her in love besell 4. Some thus wish that Love had never shot That thereof with him feel the woe Some dispute that Love a God is not And think that beauty beares the bow Since this mayd VVithout his ayd Doth her beholders all compell Now to fall Into that thrall VVhere Love himself in Love befell 5. Simple Swaines could wish their eyes were blind For in her speech and every grace Are such chaines to captivate the mind They love her that ne're saw her face Liking lyes Not all in Eyes No● Charmes in Cheeks do only dwell Love had power But for an houre To see and so in love besell 6. Since in troope of many wretched men I her inchanting looks survay'd Though I droop I languish yet agen To see and yet to see affrayd But O why With shame should I Consume for what I love so well First I 'le try Her love and dye With fame where love in love befell The Matchlesse Maid 1. AMidst the merry May When wantons would a playing A Girle as any gay That had no mind a Maying By a cleare Fountain brim Shedding teares Shaming him Sate and said are all they With their Mates gone to May And on a Sun-shiny day Must I be cast away O to dye a Maid 2. One hand she laid to calme Her brest that ever panted And on her other palme Her dewy Cheek she planted All a loft Covered ore With the soft silks she wore And underneath a bed Of Lillyes had she spred Whereon she was she sed Fully determined O to dye a Maid 3. Is 't love quoth she or lot Whose fault I am not mated Has Cupid me forgot Will fortune have me hated O ill men Though ye be Fewer then Wretched we Must I needs be one For whom there mate is none None need her death bemone Than that was borne alone O to dye a Made 4. And so into a swound She fell and in a trembling Fell I when as I found A maid no

by your Iustice gives your Empire date 2. Depose that great insulting Tyrant Boy Who most is pleas'd when he does most destroy O let the world no longer govern'd be By such a blind and childish Deity For if you Gods are in your Power severe We shall adore you not for Love but Fear 3. But if you 'l his Divinity maintain 'T is men false men confirm his tott'ring re●gn And when their hearts Loves greatest torment prove Let that no pity but our laughter move Thus scorn'd and lost to all their wisht for aim Let rage despair and death consume their flame The Wooing Rogue The Tune ●s My Freedom is all my Ioy. 1. COme live with me and be my Whore And we will be● from door to door Then under a hedge we 'l sit and louse us Until the Beadle comes to rouse us And if the●'l give us no relief Thou shalt turn Whore and I 'l turn Thief Thou shalt turn Whore and I 'l turn Thief 2. If thou canst rob then I can steal And we 'l eat Roast-meat every meal Nay we 'l eat White-bread every day And throw our mouldy Crusts away And twice a day we will be drunk And then at night I 'l kiss my Punk And then at night I 'l kiss my Punk 3. And when we both shall have the Pox We then shall want both Shirts and Smocks To shift each others mangy hide That is with Itch so pockifi'd VVe 'l take some clean ones from a hedge And leave our old ones for a pledge And leave our old ones for a pledge A Song at the Kings House 1. HOw severe is forgetful old age To confine a poor Lover so That I almost despair to see even the air Much more my dear Damon hey ho. 2. Though I whisper my sighs out alone Yet I am trac'd where-ever I go That some treacherous Tree keeps this old man from me And there he counts every hey ho. 3. How shall I this Argus blind And so put an end to my wo But whilst I beguile all his frowns with a smile I betray my self with a hey ho. 4. My restraint then alas must endure So that since my sad doom I know I will pine for my Love like the Turtle-Dove And breath out my life in hey ho. A Song at the King's House 1. NEver perswade me to 't I vow I live not How canst thou Expect a life in me Since my Soul is sled to thee You suppose because I walk And you think talk I therefore breath alas you know Shades as well as men do so 2. You may argue I have heat My pulses beat My sighs have in them living fire Grant your Argument be truth Such heats my youth In●lame as poysons do only prepare To make death their follower A Song FArewel farewel fond love under whose childish whip I have serv'd out a weary Prenticeship Farewel thou that hast made me thy scorn'd property To dote on those that lov'd not And to sly those that woo'd me Go bane of my content and practise on some other Patient 2. My woful Monument shall be a Cell The murmur of the purling Brook my knell And for my Epitaph the Rocks shall groan Eternally if any ask this Stone What wretched thing doth in this compass lie The hollow Echo shall reply 'T is I 'T is I. The hollow Echo shall reply 'T is I. Farewel farewel A Song at the King's House 1. HAve I not told thee dearest mine That I destroy'd should be Unhappy though the crime was thine And mine the misery Thou art not kind ther 's none so blind As those that will not see 2. Have I not sigh'd away my breath In homage to thy beauty What have I got but certain death A poor reward for duty Well when I 'm gone you 'l ne'r have one That will prove half so true t' ye 3. Have I not steep'd my soul in tears When thou didst hardly mind it But rather added to my fears When love should have declin'd it VVhich in this breast I hope for rest But now despair to sind it 4. O that I could but sound thy heart And fathom but thy mind Then would I search thy better part And force thee to be kind But now I 'm lost and here am crost 'T is they that hide must find 4. If pity then within thy heart Doth own a residence Vouchsafe to read my tragick part And plead my innocence Then when I 'm dead it may be said 'T was love was my offence 5. But since thy will is to destroy I dare not mercy crave But kindly thank my fate and joy I liv'd to die thy Slave Then exercise those killing eyes And frown me to my grave A Song LOve fare thee well Since no love can dwell In thee that in hatred dost all excel 2. All Love is blind Yet none more unkind Than those that repay Love with a proud mind 3. Love that 's Divine Is not Love like to mine Since she doth laugh when I do repine Then gent●e Love for Loves own sake Sigh loving Soul and break heart break A Song 1. MAny declare what torments there are Yet none ever felt so much of despair No love can tell how high my griefs swell O curs'd be the pride that reduc'd me to Hell 2. My heart is on fire whilst I do admire That you with disdain requite my desire All must cease that my flames may increase And curs'd be the pride that murther'd my peace A Song at the Kings House BRight Celia know 't was not thine eyes Alone that first did me surprize The Gods use seldom to dispense To your Sex Beauty and Conscience If then they have made me untrue The fault lies not in me but you Sure 't is no crime to break a Vow When we are first I know not how 2. You press me an unusual way To make my Song my Love betray Yet fear you 'l turn it to a jest And use me as y 'ave done the rest Of those sad Captives which complain Yet are enamour'd of their slame And though they die for love of you Dare neither love nor you pursue 3. If love be sin why live you then To make so many guilty men Since 't is not in the power of Art To make a Brest-plate for the heart Since 't is your eyes Loves Shafts convey Into our souls a secret way Where if once sixt no Herb nor Charm Can cure us of our inward harm A Song 1. ALl the flatteries of Fate And the glories of State Are nothing so sweet as what Love doth create If Love you deny 'T is time I should die Kind Death 's a reprieve when you threaten to hate 2. In some shady Grove Will I wander and rove With Philomel and the Disconsolate Dove With a down-hanging wing Will I mournfully sing The Tragick events of Unfortunate Love 3. With our plaints we 'l conspire For to heighten Loves fire Still vanquishing life till at last we