Selected quad for the lemma: work_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
work_n	evil_a	good_a	tree_n	33,809	5	11.7409	5	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A68225	The vvhipping of the satyre	W. I., fl. 1601.; Weever, John, 1576-1632, attributed name.; Ingram, William, d. 1623, attributed name.	1601 (1601)	STC 14071; ESTC S109068	21,201	96

more vnfriendly doe Or to their friends haue been a greater foe Or if ye would not for your countries sake Whose loue shuld be the supreme of your brest Yet it behou'd a Christian care to take Of your owne selues as sinfull as the rest For if this Land be Sodomiz'd with sinne It 's not your lots to be at Lots therein Accept in loue what I with griefe vnfold Hold that in minde what ye accept in loue Try that in proofe what ye in minde doe hold Vse that in life what ye in triall proue That life through proof mind through loue may chuse What it accepts to hold and tries to vse That is to change your mis-employed course And weane your wit from sucking still of shame To feed on purer substance of discourse That it may manage deeds of endlesse fame And not disgraced so ignobly lurke Depriu'd of good deprau'd by euill worke Long not to be what ye too long haue bin Rare is the tree that fruit in Winter beares O sacrifice your sorrow for your sin And bathe your cheeks with deaw of timely teares Procrastination breeds but future sorrow Then to repentance neuer bid good morrow As many dayes as in the yeere there bee So many yeeres each day to me will seeme As many houres as in the day we see So many dayes each houre I shall esteeme As many minutes as each houre doth spend So many houres each minute will extend Vntill I find what yet I cannot see Your words lesse euill and your deeds more sound Vntill I see what yet I doubt will be Your loue more deep your malice lesse profound Vntill I heare what yet I cannot know Your ill to good your good to better grow But Iesu God I haue forgotte me much My hope is bootlesse thus dispent on yee This gentle dealing will ye little touch Proud-stomackt gracelesse Rake-hels as ye be Few minds their faults and fewer mends the same Till punishment supplie the place of blame Come on your wayes I 'le ye no more reproue But what your friends bad that perfourme I must Correct ye sharpely not for hate but loue Stand not on points then they must be vntrust Parate vos dispatch content your minde Ye heare before what ye shall feele behinde Yet soft awhile and first the causes see Inprimis you haue plaid the trewants I can shew Spending your time on lewdest companie Item you said In speach not one word true Item you brawl'd and quarrel'd from your place And so forgot the Concord in that case Nay ye are growne to all vngraciousnesse Mocking and flouting still at euery one Your happinesse is in vnhappinesse The world cries out of your abusion So that to spring to growth of any grace The case is cleare you are cleare out of case Not one a veniall scourge escaping crime Each more deserues then I 'le inflict for all And yet of one I thought not all this time That is because your betters ye miscall Nicknaming all your fellowes there 's no hoe But tag and ragge and cutte and long tayle to I if ye meet a Noble man or so In stead of reuerence as becommeth vs Ye will abase him and abuse him to And so forget Cede Maioribus Come on your wayes the reckning is come in To make a purse now I must flay your skin Yet if I saw one sparke of grace in yee The kindling hope would melt my anger cleare Well masters ye may thanke God heartilie This Gentleman is busie reading here For whose disturbance I must keepe the peace And cease to striue or rather striue to cease Downe on your knees though in humilitie For time deposes such as pride exalts And aske the world forgiuenesse instantlie I did recount do ye recant your faults Now I haue done say do no verdicts grutch Whether inough too little or too much Too much if bad not good enough if much If good enough then here 's too little here To whom it 's little it 's not bad to such To whom it 's much not good enough I feare If bad and little then the lesse your payne If good and much why then the more your gayne FINIS