Selected quad for the lemma: england_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
england_n	great_a	king_n	scotland_n	13,096	5	8.4515	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
B03310	The Earle of Strafford his ellegiack poem, as it was pen'd by his owne hand a little before his death.	Strafford, Thomas Wentworth, Earl of, 1593-1641.	1641 (1641)	Wing E83; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.2[7]; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.4[211]	861	1

THE EARLE OF STRAFFORD HIS ELLEGIACK POEM AS IT Was pen'd by his owne hand a little before his Death STate give me leave and vexe my thoughts no more I have too much within me to deplore My selfe and it who both oppress'd doe lye Subjected to a growing Anarchy I have plough'd through my soule articled Against my selfe within me I have read All my life over to find out what sin Mov'd Englands Irelands what Scotlands spleen And dare convince their blinded rage who can Find in me errors more then speake me Man 'T is dangerous to be great Treason doth lye To be too gracious in a Princes eye Use your rage sharpest wit for all your Art Though you my head my King shall have my hart Be wise Vice-gerents whose succeeding fate Shall reare you up unto the height of State The ladder shakes you climbe on every Round Is pav'd with icy fate smiles on the ground From whence you rise and unadvis'd you shall Find if not sudden yet a certaine fall My sinne was too much loyalty and when That times to come as sure there will be Men Although this scanted Age vents none but those Who of old Titles and new fashion'd cloaths Can boast whose honest judgments doe agree To love the King and feare his subsidie They in disdaine of their fore-fathers hate Shall speake my vertues and lament my Fate You you then happier Nephewes what I tell So late so true accept as Oracle Where ever Justice calls you for my sake Be all your Demonstrations faire nor make A bad distinction by mistaken zeale T' your Prince 'twixt him and 'twixt his Common-weale Come neerer Death and let 's imbrace but you That with such care and jealousies pursue My spited Soule although my blood 's no price To your wish'd peace too weake a Sacrifice To expiate three Kingdomes yet from me Take this my last and perfect'st Legacie For all the service I have done the State My early risings and my sleeping late For all those cares kept sad my charge my long Zeale to my Prince which you miscoster'd wrong For all my labours and in that pursuit My slaughtered honours and my life to boote Doe this and you shall by my counsaile prove Happy on earth as I in Heaven above And though for this shall your most cōfort bring You lov'd not me yet love my Lord your King FJNJS Printed in the Yeare 1641.