Linguistic DNA - Concept Modelling Demonstrator

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
word_n	day_n	mean_v	sabbath_n	3,442	5	10.6221	5	false

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A33435	J. Cleaveland revived poems, orations, epistles, and other of his genuine incomparable pieces never before publisht : with some other exquisite remains of the most eminent wits ... that were his contemporaries.	Cleveland, John, 1613-1658.; Williamson, E., 17th cent.	1659 (1659)	Wing C4674; ESTC R23713	49,557	155

Cataract the rock is made a pump At sight of whose o're-flowings many get Themselves away for fear of being wet Here you behold a sprightfull Lady stand To have her frame drawn by a Painters hand Such lively look and presence such a dress King Pharaohs daughters image doth express Look well upon her gown and you will swear The needle not the pencill hath been there At sight of her some gallants do dispute Whether i' th' Church 't is lawfull to salute Next Iacob kneeling where his Kid-skin's such As it may well cozen old Isaacs touch A Shepherd see'ng how thorns went round about Abrahams ram would needs have helpt it out Behold the Dove descending to inspire Th' Apostles heads with cloven tongues of fire And in a superficies there you 'l see The grosse dimensions of profundity 'T is hard to judge which is best built higher The Arch-roof in the window or the quier All beasts as in the Ark are lively done Nay you may see the shadow of the Sun Upon a Landskip if you look a while You 'l think the prospect at least 40 mile Ther 's none needs now go travel we may see At home Ierusalem and Ninivy And Sodom now in flames one glance will dart Farther then Lynce with Galilaeus art Seeing Eliahs Chariot we fear There is some fiery prod'gy in the aire VVhen Christ to purge his Temple holds his whip How nimbly hucksters with their baskets skip St. Peters fishes are so lively wrought Some cheapen them and ask when they were cought Here 's motions painted too Chariots so fast Run that they 're never gone though alwayes past The Angels with their Lutes are done so true VVe do not onely look but harken too As if their sounds were painted thus the wit Of th' pencil hath drawn more then there can sit Thus as in Archimedes sphear you may In a small glass the Universe survey Such various shapes are too i th' imag'ry as age and sex may their own features see But if the window cannot shew your face Look under feet the Marble is your glass VVhich too for more then ornament is there The stones may learne your eyes to shed a tear They never work upon the conscience They cannot make us kneel we are not such As thinke there 's Balsome in the Kisse or Touch That were grosse superstition we know There 's no more pow'r in them then the Popes Toe The Saints themselves for us can do no good Much lesse their pictures drawn in glasse or wood They cannot seal but since they signifie They may be worthy of a cast o th' eye Although no worship that is due alone Not to the Carpenters but Gods own son Obedience to blocks deserves the Rod The Lord may well be then a jealous God Why should not statues now be due to Paul As to the Câ—sars of the Cappitoll How many images of great Heirs which Had nothing but the din of being rich Shine in our Temples kneeling always there Where when they were alive they 'd scarce appear Yet shall Christs Sepulcher have ne're a Tomb Shall every Saint have a Iohn Baptists Doom No Limb of Marie stand must we forget Christs Crosse as soon as past the Alphabet Shall not their heads have room in th' window who Founded our Church and our Religion too We know that God's a spirit we confesse VVe cannot comprehend his name much lesse Can a small glasse his nature but since he Vouchsafed to suffer his humanity Why may not we onely to put 's in minde Of 's God-head have his manhood thus enshrin'd Is our Kings person lesse esteem'd because We read him in our Coins as well as Laws Do what we can whether we think or paint All Gods expressions are but weak and faint Yet spots in Globes must not be blotted thence That cannot shew the World's magnificence Nor is it fit we should the skill controuâ— Because the Artist cannot draw the Soul Cease then your railings and your dull complaints To pull down Galleries and set up Saints Is no impiety now we may well Say that our Church is truely visible Those that before our glasse scaffolds prefer VVould turn our Temple to a Theater VVindows are Pulpits now though unlearn'd one May read this Bibles new Edition Instead of here and there a verse adorn'd Round with a Lace of paint fit to be scorn'd Even by vulgar eyes each pane presents VVhole Chapters with both Comment and Contents The cloudy mysteries of the Gospel here Transparent as the Crystal do appear 'T is not to see things darkly through a glasse Here you may see our Saviour face to face And whereas feasts come seldom here 's discri'd A constant Christmas Easter VVhitsuntide Let the deaf hither come no matter though Faiths sence be lost we a new way can show Here we can teach them to believe by th' eye These silenc'd Ministers do edifie The Scriptures ray's contracted in a glasse Like Emblems do with greater virtue passe Look in the book of Martyres and you 'l see More by the pictures than the History That price for things in colours oft we give Which wee 'd not take to have them while they live Such is the power of painting that it makes A loving sympathy 'twixt men and snakes Hence then Paul's Doctrine may seem more Divine As Amber through a glasse doth clearer shine Words passe away as soon as headache gone We read in books what here we dwell upon Thus then there 's no more fault in imag'ry Then there 's in the practice of piety Both edifie what is in Letters there Is writ in plainer Hieroglyphicks here 'T is not a new Religion we have chose 'T is the same body but in better cloaths You 'l say they make us gaze when we should pray And that our thoughts do on the figures stray If so you may conclude us beasts what they Have for their object is to us the way Did any ere use prospective to see No further then the glasse or can there be Such lazie Travellers so giv'n to sin As that they 'l take their dwelling at the Inne A Christians sight rests in Divinity Signs are but spectacles to help faiths eye God is the Center dwelling on these words My Muse a Sabbath to my brain affords If their nice wits more solemne proof exact Know this was meant a Poem not a Tract An intertainment at Cotswold TRudge hence ye tender flocks some gloomy grove Must be this days refreshment now remove Your selves ye must your walk 's must be resign'd Unto a matchlesse troup of female kind Whose beauty should the flat-nos'd Satyrs spy They would not live but languish and so die Troys lofty Towers wch once o're-topt the clouds And menac'd heaven Hellens beauty shrowd's In cinders for his tender Heroes sake Leander cuts the Hâ—lles-pontick Lake Yet those to these were tawny rivel'd dun Such as a glim'ring Taper to the Sun This Turret swells me thinks as proud to be The

force on an ell-square of pudding-pie Perhaps't may be a taste three such as you Unbreakfasted might serve Seraglio When Hanibal scal'd th' Alps hadst thou been there Thy beef had drunk up all his vineger Well mightst thou be of Guard to Henry th' Eighth Since thou canst like a pigeon eat thy weight Full wise was Nature that would not bestow These tusks of thine into a double row What womb could e're contain thee thou canst shut A pond or Aviary in a gut Had not thy mother born thee toothlesse thou Hadst eaten viper-like a passage through Had he that wish'd the Cranes long neck to eat Put in thy stomack too 't had been compleat Thou Noahs Ark dead Sea thou Golgotha Monster beyond all them of Africa Beasts prey on beasts fishes to fishes fall Great birds seed on the lesser thou on all Hath there been no mistake why may 't not be When Curtius leapt the gulf 't was into thee Now wee 'll beleeve that man of Chica could Make pills of arrows and the boy that would Chew onely stones nor can we think it vain That Doranetho eat up th' neighbouring plain Poor Crisicthon that could onely feast On one poor Girl in several dishes drest Thou hast devour'd as many sheep as may Cloath all the pastures in Arcadia Yet O how temperate that ne're goes on So far as to approach repletion Thou breathing Cauâ—dron whose digestive heat Might boil the whole provision of the Fleet Say grace as long as meals and if thou please Break fast with Islands and drink healths with Seas On Christ-Church windows YOu that prophane our windows with a tongue Set like some clock on purpose to go wrong Who when you were at Service sigh'd because You heard the Organs musick not the Dawes Pitying our solemn State shaking your head To see no ruines from the floor to th' Lead To whose pure nose our Cedar gave offence Crying It smelt of Papists frankincense Who walking on our marbles scoffing said Whose bodies are under these tomb-stones laid Counting our tapers works of darkness and Choosing to see Priests in blew aprons stand Rather than in rich coapes which shew the art Of Sisera's prey embroider'd in each part Then when you saw the Altars Bason said Why 's not the Ewer on the Cup-board laid Thinking our very Bibles too prophane 'Cause you ne're bought such covers in Duck-Lane Loathing all decencie as if you 'ld have Altars as foul and homely as a grave Had you one spark of reason you would finde Your selves like idols to have eyes yet blinde 'T is onely some base niggard Heresie To think religion loves deformity Glory did never yet make God the lesse Neither can beauty defile holinesse What 's more magnificent than heav'n yet where Is there more love and piety than there My heart doth wish were 't possible to see Pauls built with precious stones and porphyrie To have our hals and galleries out-shine Altars in beauty is to deck our swine With Orient pearl whilst the deserving Quire Of God and Angels wallow in the mire Our decent coapes onely distinction keep That you may know the Shepherd from the sheep As gawdy letters in the Rubrick show How you may holy-days from lay-lay-days know Remember Aarons robe and you will say Ladies at Masques are not so rich as they Then are th' Priests words like thunder-claps when he Is lightning like ray'd round with majestie May every Temple shine like those at Nile And still be free from Rat or Crocodile But you will urge both Priest and Church should be The solemn paâ—tners of humilitie Do not some boast of rags Cynicks deride The pomp of Kings but with a greater pride Meekness consists not in the cloaths but heart Nature may be vain-glorious well as Art We may as lowly before God appear Drest with a glorious pearl as with a tear In his high presence where the Stars and Sun Do but eclipse there 's no ambition You dare admit gay paint upon a wall Why then in glasse that 's held Apocryphall Our bodies temples are look in the eye The window and you needs must pictures spy Moses and Aaron and the Kings Arms are Daub'd in the Church when you the warden were Yet you ne're fin'd for Papist shall we say Banbury is turn'd Rome because we may See th' holy Lamb and Christopher nay more The Altar-stone set at the Tavern doore Why can't the Ox then in th' Nativity Be imag'd forth but Papists buls are nigh Our pictures to no other end are made Than is your time and 's bill your death and 's spade To us they are but Memento's which present Christ best except his Word and Sacrament If 't were a sin to set up imag'ry To get a child were flat idolatry The models of our buildings would be thus Directions to our houses ruines to us Hath not each creature which hath daily breath Some thing which resembles heaven or earth Suppose some ignorant Heathen once did bow To Images may not we see them now Should we love darkness and abhor the Sun 'Cause Persians gave it adoration And plant no Orchards because apples first Made Adam and his lineal race accurst Though wine for Bacchus bread for Ceres went Yet both are used in the Sacrament What then if these were Popish reliques few Windows are elsewhere old but these are new And so exceed the former that the face Of these come short of th' outside of our glass Colours are here mixt so that rainbows be Compar'd but clouds without varietie Art here is Natures envie this is he Not Paracelsus but by Chymistrie Can make a man from ashes if not dust Producing off-springs of his minde not lust See how he makes his Maker and doth draw All that is meant i'th'the Gospel or i' th' Law Looking upon the Resurrection Me thoughts I saw the blessed Vision Where not his face is meerely drawne but mind Which not with paint but oyl of gladnesse shin'd But when I view'd the next pane where we have The God of life transported to his grave Light then is dark all things so dull and dead As if that part of th' window had been lead Ionas his whale did so mens eyes befool That they have beg'd him th' Anatomy school That he saw ships at Oxford one did swear Though Isis yet will barges hardly bear Another soon as he the trees espi'd Thought them i' th' garden on the other side See in what state though on an asse Christ went This shews more glorious than the Parli'ment Then in what awe Moses his rod doth keep The Seas as if the frost had glaz'd the Deep The raging waves are to themselves a bound Some cry Help help or horse and man are drown'd Shadows do every where for substance pass You 'd think the sands were in an hour-glass You that do live with Surgeons have you seen A spring of blood forc'd from a swelling vein So from a touch of Moses rod doth jump A

new King shall have You onely will be varied as a grain Lost in a Harvest more returns again And though perchance we cannot say like those Who are Heirs to their fathers eyes or nose Report his look and are so justly fac'd Like him as if they were not born but cast That all these signs we in the Princes finde Yet sure there is more likenesse in their minde Which you conveyed them through their mother who Even thus did travel with your vertues too Which to descend to our dull sence and earth Come to us in their shapes and suffer birth And be your off-spring who when Chronicle â—s all we have and Annals onely tell Your deeds and actions and when men shall look And see the Prince and Duke do all the book And live your Royal story and that all Which you did well was but prophetical Will not be thought as your posterity But you in them will your Successor be To the Queen upon the birth of her first Daughter AFter the Princes birth admired Queen Had you prov'd barren you had fruitfull been And in one Heir born to his fathers place And royal minde had brought us forth a race But we who thought we wisht enough to see A Prince of Wales have now a progenie And you being perfect now have learn't the way To be with Childe as oft as we can pray So that henceforth we need no alters vex With empty vows being heard in either Sex Nor have we all our Kingdoms incense try'd So many years onely to be deny'd We no desires but thankfull off'rings bring That bearing many you prefer the King And to us yet have but one daughter shown Who else had been the Original alone Without a Copy for the shapes we see In tables of you but bright errours be Nor could we hope Art could beget an Heir To that sweet forme unlesse your selfe did bear Your Portraiture and in a daughter shew That of your self which yet no Painter drew Who with his subtil hand and wisest skill Hath hitherto but striv'd to draw you ill And when he takes his Pencil from your look Find's colours make you but a piece mistook And so paints treason nor would have pretence To scape but that he limmes a fair pretence But in the Princesse you are writ so plain And true that in her you were born again And when we see you both together plac'd You are your daughter onely grown in haste In both we may the self-same graces see But that they yet in her but Infant be Not woman beauties nor will we dispaire The Prince and Duke of York have equal share In your perfections which though they divide Make them both Prince enough by th' mothers side Whose composition is so clear and good That we can see discourses in your bloud And understand your body so refin'd That of you might be born a Soul or mind O may you still be fruitfull and begin Henceforth to make our year by lying in May we have store of Princes and they live Till Heraulds doubt what Titles they should give To this may you be young still and no other Signes of more age found in you but a mother Vpon one that preach't in a Cloak SAw you the Cloak at Church to day The long worne short Cloak lin'd with Say What had the man no Gown to wear Or was this sent him from the Mayor Or is 't the Cloak which Nixon brought To trim the Tub where Golledge taught Or can this best conceal his lips And shew Communion-sitting hips Or was the Cloak St. Paul's if so With it he found the Parchments too Yes verily for he hath been With mine Host Gajus at the new Inne A Gown God blesse us trailes o th' floor Like th' Petticoat o th' Scarlet whorâ— Whose large stiffe pleaâ—s he dare confide Are ribs from Antichrists own side A mourning cope if it look to th' East Is the black surplice of the beast On the May Pole THe mighty zeal which thou hast late put on Neither by Prophet nor by Prophets son As yet prevented doth transport me so Beyond my self that though I ne're could go Far in a Verse and have all times defi'd Since Hopkins and good Thomas Sternhold di'd Except it were the little pains I took To please good people in a Prayer book That I set forth or so yet must I raise My spirits for thee vvho shall in thy praise Gird up her loyns and furiously run All kinde of feete but Satans cloven one Such is thy zeal so vvell thou dost expresse it That vver 't not like a Charme I 'd sayd God blesse it I needs must say it is a spiritual thing To raile against the Bishop and the King But these are private quarrels this doth fall Within the compasse of the General Whether it be a pole painted or wrought Farre otherwise then from the vvood 't was brought VVhose head the Idol makers hand doth crop VVhere a prophane birde towring on the top Looks like the Calfe in Horeb at vvhose root The unyoakt youth doth exercise his foot Or vvhether it preserves its boughs befriended By neighbouring bushes and by them attended How canst thou chuse but seeing it complain That Baal's worship'd in the groves again Tell me how curst an egging with a sting Of lust do these unwily dances bring The simple wretches say they mean no harm They do'nt indeed but yet these actions warm Our purer bloud the more for Satan thus Tempts us the more that are more righteous Oft hath a brother most sincerely gone Sâ—ifled with zeal and contemplation VVhere lighting on the place where such repaire He views the Nymph and is clean out in 's prayer Oft hath a sister grounded in a truth Seeing the jolly carriage of the youth Beene tempted to the vvay that 's broad and bad And were 't not for our private pleasures had Renounc'd her little ruffe and goggle eye And quit her self of the fraternity What is the mirth what is the melody That sets them in this Gentiles vanity When in our Sinagogues we raile at sin And tell men of the faults that they are in With hand and voice so following our Theams That we put out the sides-men in theirâ— dreams Sounds not the Pulpit then which we belabour Better and holier then doth a Tabor Yet such is unregenerate mans folly He loves the wicked noise and hares the holy If the sins sweet enticing and the bloud VVhich now begins to boyl have thought it good To challenge liberty and recreation Let it be done in holy contemplation Brother and sister in the field may walk Beginning of the holy word to talk Of David and Vriahs lovely wife Of Thamar and her lustfull brothers strife Then underneath the hedge that is the next They may sit downe and so act out the Text Nor do we want how ere we live Austere In VVinter Sabbath nights some lusty cheare And though the Pastors grace which oft doth hold Halfe

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