Selected quad for the lemma: truth_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A57165
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The ramble an anti-heroick poem : together with some terrestrial hymms and carnal ejaculations / by Alexander Radcliffe ...
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Radcliffe, Alexander, fl. 1669-1696.
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1682
(1682)
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Wing R129; ESTC R11420
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29,412
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143
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the Sword they say make a Division S And militant Lawyers their Wisdoms disown So that from the King to have had a Commission Does not consist with a tatter'd old Gown These men make pretence Both to Law and to Sense Yet say the Law 's broke if you fight for your Prince You Mortals of Law be confounded for ever Who refuse an Address made to your Law-giver IV. From th' Ancients they urge this Order comes out And therefore expect a ready Obedience But how can that be since their Masterships doat And they themselves have forgotten Allegiance Therefore let 's pray Both by Night and by Day That they may Conform and then we 'll Obey You Mortals of Law be confounded for ever Who refuse an Address made to your Law-giver V. But wou'd it not move a Heart made of Flint To think that a House must continue no longer Since the grave Gubernators refus'd to consent Except 't were propos'd by a Bar-Iron-monger C Or else by a Brewer O Who serves them with Beer So small that they 'r fill'd with Suspicion and Fear You Mortals of Law be confounded for ever Who refuse an Address made to your Law-giver VI. Now some of the younger disconsolate fry G As if they 'd been still at Quaeso Magister Under such strange Apprehensions did lye They desir'd to consult the Chappel-Minister One of the young men Wou'd not handle a Pen For my Lord and my Father won't take me agen You Mortals of Law be confounded for ever Who refuse an Address made to your Law-giver VII The number of those who refus'd to subscribe Are fitly compar'd to the days of poor Job Few and Evil and of a Satanical Tribe Who scandalize all the rest of the Robe Those of the Bar-mess Who cry'd No Address Found their Party of Faction were two to one less You Mortals of Law be confounded for ever Who refuse an Address made to your Law-giver VIII Now you have heard of these Lawyers Demurrer And how their weak Arguments are over-rul'd Without all Dispute will think an Abhorrer Of them and Petitions are loyally bold For such Impudence Both at Bar and at Bench Proceeds from those Men who their King would Retrench You Mortals of Law be confounded for ever Who refuse an Address made to your Law-giver The SWORD 's Farewell upon the approach of a Michaelmas-Term HEalth to my Friends a terror to my Foes Revenging Wrongs impatient of blows Couragious Metal truest of all Steels Sure to thy Master always at his heels Ready to jog him by the Elbow when He is confronted by the Sons of Men. Soul of my Weapon thou shalt take thy Rest And acquiesce within thy Sable Nest One Month must fix thee in a certain Station Thy Master's Term must prove thine own Vacation Till that 's expir'd his Honour be thy Pawn Though here thour' t hang'd yet thou shalt not be drawn Thou shalt not now too late at Night appear T' incense the King 's Almighty Officer Nor vex his Watch lest by his great Command They knock thy Master down and bid him stand Nor fly at Mortal wight though ne're so tall Who passing by Surrenders not the Wall Nor push at Bayliffs stout denouncing War We know no Sergeants now but at the Bar. They 're fix'd but with such moveable devotion Come when you will you 'l find them in a Motion Not willing any Man should be opprest 'T is only Judgment that they would Arrest Thou shalt not now be bare when Hector cloaths And backs the Lye with rag◠〈◊〉 swelling Oaths Now such great words admit a Period He must speak only truth so help him God The Stile is chang'd the Season so will have it If he will swear 't must be by Affidavit Thou must not now come forth in view as once To fright a Rev'rend Bawd and build a Sconce Nor make a Drawer stand all Night to Skink Full cups and watch to fill thy Master Drink To rubisie his Cheeks though when he will He can take out a Fieri Facias still Or Presidents if common Writs do fail Direct to me a special Writ of Ailâ— Whilom at such a Sign conven'd the Wits But now no Sign is known except for Writs Thou must forbear a while at Inn and Inn T' out-brave whom thou suspectest like to win No jogging chance must now blind mortal Eyes We 'll find fresh Bail of Men and not of Dice Pray for an Action now and not an Ace Let every Deuce Produce a Debtor's case And in the stead of every Trey that 's thrown So many Tryals may we call our own To cast a Quatre now we must forget And call to mind a Quare Impedit Each Cinque a Capiâ—s and for every Size Wish that a Scire Facias may arise Now we must think Hazard brings little gain Throw a Mandamus rather than a Main On certainties 't is safest to rely More 's gain'd by Bill than gotten by the By. To Play-Houses thou now shalt bid adieu Although the Farce be gay enough and new Ne're before Acted brings thee not among Those that sell Two and Six-pence for a Song No Idle Scenes fit busie times as these Instead of Playes we now converse with Pleas And 't's thought the last do savour more of Wit For those have Plots to spend but these to get Give way Great Shakespear and immortal Ben To Doe and Roe John Den and Richard Fen. Farewel dearSword thour' t prov'd and laid aside Thy youngest Brother Penknife must be try'd That thou art best needs but a thin dispute Thou woundest skin of Man he skin of Brute 'T is pity such an Urchin long should Reign To raze a Line when thou can'st prick a Vein 'T is thou can'st make such horrid bloody work Will fright the Pope and scare the biggest Turk Thy very name will make a Cripple run Swift as a Courtier from a City Dunn Now Tom in Acres rich is come to Town To change the Title of a Yeoman's Son Thou bid'st him kneel and stroak'st his empty Skul And mak'st him rise Sir Thomas Worshipful Thus thou mak'st special Knights of common men When he hath made his best 't is but a Pen Yet such a Pen that when 't has learn't it's Trade It may undo the Knight which thou hast made That thou art monstrous â—aliant is too certain For instance this in fine as saith Sir Martin Th' hast kill'd But soft some wiser are than some I should Marr-all if I discover whom In point of Honour this deny 't who can Thou never turn'dst thy Back to any Man The short and long on't's thus I 'll safely say Though thou should'st break thou would'st not run away Yet 't would not wound thy credit long for when The Term is done I 'll set thee up agen Cedant ARma togae concedat laurea linguae Wrote in the Banquetting-House in Grayes-Inn-Walks HERE Damsel sits disconsolate Cursing the Rigor of her Fate Till Squire Insipid having spy'd