Selected quad for the lemma: work_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
work_n	day_n	rest_n	sabbath_n	16,566	5	10.2403	5	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A57564	Lvx occidentalis, or, Providence display'd in the coronation of King William and Queen Mary, and their happy accession to the crown of England with other remarks / by T.R. ...	T. R. (Thomas Rogers), 1660-1694.	1689 (1689)	Wing R1839; ESTC R5777	17,221	37

Grew proud her Lord and Master to obey Sure some officious fond Intelligence Stoop't from its Orb and with kind influence Guided your Vessel steer'd it in the dark And turn'd your floating Chariot to an Ark An Ark I 'le call 't since things succeed so well For before it Rome's mighty Dagon fell Good Heav'n What raptures of enormous joy Did lull our senses and our vitals cloy How were we all in sweet distraction tost And in a maze of speechless wonder lost When Fame first sang aloud At length the time is come when Britanny Shall be for ever from Rome's bondage free As Men confin'd to Caves and doom'd to Night But faintly bear the sudden start of Light And seem to shun with a dejected face Its pleasing violence and its wish't embrace So were we overwhelm'd with sudden bliss And scarcely stem'd the Flood of happiness The span of mortal life did seem too small To grasp a joy so great so general Go on Great Hero and in time advance To th' utmost bounds of domineering France Crush that Great Monster dead who all on flame Thinks the whole World too narrow for his Fame One Globe's too little for his mighty span The Universe must stretch e're it contain His boundless thoughts how does he fret and rage Like Bajazet confin'd within a Cage Yet this fine swelling Fop that looks so gay This spruce embalmed lump of gilded clay Must shortly to ignobler dust return And his proud ashes shrink into an urn Look him but in the Face and speak the word He 'll die with fear at least put up his Sword His martial Troops will quickly scorn t' obey His sneaking greatness and pedantick sway When you appear they 'l wisely run away Monarchs that grasp at too much pow'r and might Look small when rais'd above their lawful height And mounting higher vanish out of sight If Poets may divine and sure I 'm told They challeng'd that Prerogative of old I 'le say Heav'n seems to have selected you Rome's warlike Church and Empire to subdue Your Name now sounds through Italy and Spain Where grave unerring ignorance do's reign Where venerable Nonsense sits i th' chair And Pagan pomp do's Catholick Titles wear And where as each sad Traveller can relate Poor defunct Piety now lies in stare Th' Italian Monsters tremble at the same Of Britan's Hercules his very Name Makes Cerberus quake whose Massie Triple Crown Begins to totter and with look cast down He sneaks and fears the Light of Reformation To the QVEEN And now Illustrious Paragon to you Somewhat I fain would speak yet scarce know how The task appears too weighty for my pen An Angel's voice may reach 't not that of Men What glorious charms lie coucht within your frame The wonderful event does best Proclaim At your approach the Oracles of Rome Return'd to their old shades and were struck dumb Your breath which you so kindly do dispense Has countercharm'd a Popish Pestilence Your presence rais'd our hopes when they were dead Before you the Destroying Angel fled Th' Unconquer'd Prince that did mankind subdue Yeilded when he first fix't his Eyes on you Surely from you one conquering art he took From you he learnt to vanquish with a look Welcom now Royal Madam to a Throne Now welcom to our Nation and your own 'T is true a Crown adds nothing to your Pow'r For you were chosen Queen of Hearts before Yet may you light to us and influence give And lustre to the Crown which you receive Mary do's now Elizabeth out shine That which look't Monstrous now appears Divine You 've made that Sacred which was once accurst Made that the best of Names which was the worst Britannia sigh'd and griev'd where gone Pensive she lay and utter'd many a groan She sat encompast with ill-boding fears And like a Widow all dissolv'd in tears But now her sorrows having laid aside She reassumes her ornaments and pride And looks gay like some new expecting Bride A joy like this Great Charles our gracious King Did to a sad afflicted Nation bring When homwards bent proud swelling Seas he crost As strangely found as Romulus was lost A joy like this tho' more refin'd and bright Departed Spirits find and those that live in light When first they come to that Harmonious place Where friends do meet again where Angels do embrace Happy that day and may it n'ere be torn From the fair Book of Fame when you were born May it for ever shine and still appear A Diamond i th' Circle of the year May it still be as happy ' mongst the rest o th' days as you are amongst Women blest And may your following Reign a Sabbath prove Of Peace of Joy of Extasie and Love When you 've compleated what you have begun May you look down with pleasure from a Throne Upon the works and wonders you have done Long may you live encircled round with joys Blest by consent by our unanimous voice May Sovereign Vertue all your wishes steer And harmless pleasures sweeten all your care And when at length O may th' unhappy day Move slowly on your life must pass away May you retire to everlasting rest And may these Nations be securely blest By Heirs descended from your fruitful Womb 'Till Shiloh shall again in Glory come The Ghost of St. Ignatius addressing himself to a Cabal in France FRom the unhallow'd Mansions of Despair O'erflown with black and pestilential Air Where mut'nous Billows roar and never sleep And wanton winds still revel on the deep From that infernal Gulph where Daemons dwell A place best known by the great name of Hell I 'm come an angry spright urg'd by just rage Against th'unthinking Zealots of this Age O! I could tear with groans my dusky shrine While I behold these wretched Sons of mine Hunted like Beasts of prey and homeward driv'n By an accurst Legerdemain of Heav'n How frail is Happiness how quickly gone By th' eager rapt of time still hurried on How fading are the Glories and Applause Which here the proudest sinning Heroes raise How poor and scanty are the Crimes they know Perfection's only to be found below Here soon the bold are to Destruction hurl'd 'T is plain Discretion does not guide the World No every Kingdom every reeling State Is whirl'd about upon the poles of Fate Falsehearted Britain how I grieve to see Th'Italian Legions thus undone by thee O had the Belgian Brisk been cast away To Neptune and the scaly rout a prey Or given a Bait to great Leviathan That Monarch and proud Hector of the Main Happy Britannia then had never borne The rigid shock of his imperious Scorn And Hell had had less reason to complain But now ill Destiny succeeds again His Foes like Iron Images stand mute Shrunk in their Arms not daring to dispute The cause by noble Force No they appear A Fairy Scene a Poppet-show of War. His pointed Aspect does the work of Steel And distant Troops his awful