Selected quad for the lemma: truth_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
truth_n	glory_n	youth_n	zeal_n	13	3	7.1231	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A51366	A poem to the Queen, upon the King's victory in Ireland, and his voyage to Holland	Morgan, Matthew, 1652-1703.	1691 (1691)	Wing M2735; ESTC R20095	25,835	45

His sober Looks are chang'd into Grimace And new impressions do the old efface As Cartes did his Candidates advise To strip themselves of all their prejudice To blot out the Ideas of their Mind Not the least trace of Notion leave behind Or else they were not adequately fit For all the Resveries of his towring Wit So of what 's Solid you must him devest E're he into a Monsieur can be drest We'd give the Traveller leave to be a Fop With great Impunity if he there would stop But he grows Wise in Politicks refines His Land disgraceth first then undermines He pierceth farther thro' the Alpes to Rome He goes but he may safer stay at Home For Poyson there is exquisitely made And all their false Religion is a Trade This is the Forge of all their holy Leagues Where Popes are chose by Secular Intrigues 'T is the beloved Interest doth the feat Conscience the Fucus doth but smooth the cheat So of all Dogs the Mastiff is the prime A fierceness hath peculiar to the Clime He with arm'd Teeth on obvious Foes doth fall And with loud Threatnings fills the spacious Hall With a strict Paw and vigilant Eye doth watch The Guardian of the solitary Thatch But if transported into Forreign Earth He Vappid grows and doth disgrace his Birth Forgets the inbred Virtue of his Sires Who scorn'd Supiness before Country Fires But were inflicting Wounds in open Field And made the Curs of lesser Nations yield He generous was when he on Flesh did feed But Quelques Choses always spoil the English Breed No more with harsh Alarms the Campagne rings For he Barks shriller than an Eunuch Sings Their active Envoys here did sow their Tares And the unwary fell into their Snares All critical Occasions they did wait For each Complexion laid a different Bait. When the Ressortes of their Machine did play They fir'd the Pile their Face another way All things to vile Constructions they did draw Corrupted Gospel and perverted Law Our Hope 's eluded ridicul'd our Fears Our Sighs they tax'd and did proscribe our Tears The feeble Stream did to a Torrent rise Swell'd with the tribute of their Flatteries The Lewd they did with secret Favours please The Slothful they enervated with Ease So large a Dose of Opium they did take Nothing but Smithfield Fires could them awake So strong a Lethargy did their Spirits seize Nothing could cure but actual Canteries Some they did Menace others they did Bribe There always is a Mercenary Tribe So Monsieur Pelisson did keep a Court To which the hungry Converts did resort There in full Heaps the Louis d'ors were told For so much Proselyte there was so much Gold They at an Auction did their Faith abjure The dastard Quarry stoop'd unto the Lure These to the Conqueror are still ally'd Shifting the Gallican and Austrian Side For still as either Interest doth prevail They to be sure fall in and sink the Scale They 'll buy a Lapland Wind to fill the Sail They have a Tithe in all the Blood that 's spilt Their Holy hands do Consecrate the Guilt This with extravagance of Zeal was done Zeal is the frenzy of Religion As its soft place is Superstition They should have liv'd in Old Caligula's days He unto Flamen-ships their Pride might raise Who wish'd the Roman Empire in a Yoke To cut it off at one imperious Stroke They on his Rage a barbarous Edge might put Tho' dull themselves they have no power to Cut With an officious diligence give the Knife Whilst he destroy'd that complicated Life When Subjects both of Church and State were gone The Tyrant and his Priests might reign alone Then Rhadamanthus did his Poysons shed And like a Basilisk look'd the Pris'ner dead With a Rapacious hand and Furies face Prophan'd the Bench did desecrate the place Where sat the Reverend Sages of the Law Whose Age did with their Learning strike an awe And mild Behaviour did Affection draw He quarrel'd with himself at Mankind rail'd Scurrility was a Weapon never fail'd Upon such spurious Orators entail'd Yet tho' he was of that Gigantick size He cramp'd himself into a mean disguise And his last Stake would venture on the Sea An Element less turbulent than he But let the Goat now browse upon the Vine As if he would destroy the future Wine Yet at the Altar there 's enough to shed Betwixt the Horns on his devoted Head Nothing but Dirt you can expect from Mud And that in him was kneaded up with Bloud So when a flash of Lightning he espy'd The sneaking Roman Emperor did hide He in a Fright at last was downward sent The greatest Cowards are the Insolent He trembled Waking and did doze his Sleep At last the Vermine thro' an Hole did creep But all defects of Right are now supply'd By Him who in the roughest Times was try'd Who stoutly and almost alone withstood The Risings of that Arbitrary Flood Before it had the Limits overflown And all our ancient Properties did drown He at a deep-mouth'd Pack did stand at Bay And threw them off as fast as they did play Made for the City Charter a Defence With all the Nerves of Manly Eloquence Words were Ambitious to express such Sense Some faithless Men did violate their Trust Aggressors were on their Fore-fathers Dust Where they should make a stand they did submit And tamely yielded what they should transmit They would not let the Fruit an Offering be But like the Peasant they pluck'd up the Tree A luscious tho' a very servile Pen Did poorly Celebrate these worst of Men The Blot indelible which did it stain He call'd the greatest Glory of a Reign For their blind Zeal a subtle Bait was laid For a French Soupe their Birth-rights they betray'd 'T was then the Ornament of our Nation fell Who can his Tragedy without Weeping tell Solemn as Age He chearful was as Youth His Soul was Virtue and his Words were Truth All without Affectation he did treat Kind without Fraud without Ambition Great No Country with a Braver Man was blest He was in all Capacities the Best Kingdomes might justly for him be at Strife He lov'd his Country better than his Life His aged Father lost a Glorious Son Who had thro' all degrees of Honor run His faithful Wife a mournful Farewel took And still Regretted with a parting look She with strong Tears did deprecate his Grave The great Southampton's Daughter could not save His Children next their Duty did address The Hand they Kiss'd did in requital Bless Still he was haunted with the Men in Black Who with false Arguments did his Soul attack Would force his latest Moments to receive A Doctrine which themselves did not believe At least they never practic'd Him with their Milk-sop Principle did tease And would not let him Dye who liv'd in Peace For being a Patriot they spill'd his Blood He Dy'd like Socrates for being Good The English what they are do still appear The plainest Humor still