Selected quad for the lemma: england_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
england_n	katherine_n	king_n	queen_n	2,561	5	7.6029	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A03470	Pancharis the first booke. Containing the preparation of the loue betweene Ovven Tudyr, and the Queene, long since intended to her maiden Maiestie: and now dedicated to the inuincible Iames, second and greater Monarch of great Britaine, King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, with the islands adiacent.	Holland, Hugh, d. 1633.	1603 (1603)	STC 13592; ESTC S116940	23,955	84

little bolder And beg that thou mayst waite vpon her Among her many May des of Honor A modest Maide with chaste variety To lull asleepe that sweete Society Who may as well as any other Reade euery line before the Mother So shamefa'cd are they and so holly Voide of all loosenesse and light folly Else had it beene too much impiety To vow them to so great a Deity This done againe on knee lowe bended And hands as high to heauen extended Ascribe me of this golden story Onely the paine and her the glory Praying she would but reade the proem And so breath life into my Poëm PANCHARIS THE FIRST BOOKE I Sing Queene Katharine and my countryman O Loue if I before thy Altare spread Blacke though I be haue oft lookt pale wan And as white Turtles there haue offered As are those that thy whiter mother dravve Draw neere and with her Myrtle decke the head Of me thy priest that am too rudely rawe Nor once haue bin baptized in the spring Of Helicon which yet I neuer saw A pinion plucke me out of thine owne wing And let thy godhead more propitious be Vnto my thoughts whiles others loues I sing Then in mine owne it hath beene vnto me AND thou O second Sea-borne Queene of Loue In whose faire forehead Loue and Maiestie Still kisse each other as the Turtle-doue Doth her beloued thou whose frowne whose smile Presenteth both who dost inspire and moue This lesser Continent this greatest Ile Let smiling Loue when Maiesty would frowne Infuse like life and motion to my Stile I treate not I here of the awfull Crowne Though somewhat of the court my Legend is Composde of Loue and Beautie vp and downe Where if I aught haue saide that sounds amisse Immortall Maid thou pardon mee that crime Sith thy white hand which lord I long to kisse May crosse out all and rectifie my rime So shall the amorous Readers seeme as those That haue seene thee full oft and many a time Yet seeing thee againe anone suppose They somewhat see they neuer saw before Such spangling obiects thou dost still disclose As all desire to see thee more and more From London Westward doth a Castle stand Along the Thames which of the winding shore Is called Windsore knowne by sea and land For the rich Guarter and the holy George There founded first by the victorious hand Of warlike Edward he that was the scorge And second hammer of the haughty Scot. As the lame God in his Trinacrian Forge Striu'd first to blow the stubborne yron hot And after laide about him like a Lord Till he thereof the vpper hand had got So English Edward did with fire and sword Lighten and Thunder in that Northerne Clime And neuer respite did his foe afford No nor himselfe almost vntill the time As hardy Dauid grac'd faire Windsores Court Where also Iohn of France who long'd to clime The wheele of Fortune in the selfe same sort A captiue King was after shortly seene Yet neither this nor that so much report The fame of Windsore as faire Katherine She that hath yet saue her great Neece no other Daughter of France of England mother-Mother-Queene The sixt Charles daughter the sixt Henries mother And which is chiefest the fift Henries Wife Here the sad Queene ful many a sigh did smother Resolued still to leade a Widdowes life So chaste was she though faire and rich and yong That yong and olde to praise her were at strife Of her high honour all Musitians sung And thereto each sweet Poet tun'd his pen That therewith England and all Europe rung She was the wonder of all mortall men Few Queenes came neere her none went aboue In grace and goodnesse since before or then Might once no minion dare to kisse her gloue Much lesse her hand or Mistresse her mis-call As men are wont when they for fashion loue So modest was she and so mecke withall That all good folkes might to her Presence come No lesse then to some Councellors common Hall More doth the suter than the gaudy roome Set out a Monarchs Maiestie by ods When life or death he lookes for at his doome Not they that grau'd the gold did make the gods But such as did before them bow to begge All were they made of clay but only clods Nor they the Prince that still prouoke and egge That only they may golden I dolls be To which the subiect bends his seruile legge The sacred and annointed Maiestie To robbe the realme to gaine the subiects wealth And loose their hearts But such as on the knee Importune grace with happinesse and health Not posted off to those extreame delayes Of bribing fauorites which is worse then stealth And scarce was heard of in those happy dayes Her selfe a widdow would for widowes pleade With much compassion and at al assayes But as for Orphanes bills them would she reade And then shut in her princely Orphans hand Whereby along with her she would him leade Vnto his Vncle that did rule the land Hard were the heart that in so iust a cause With two such suters vpon tearmes could stand And not dispence a little with the lawes Thus with her great delight in doing good Shee wanne such fame and popular applause That on a time the goddesse of the wood Diana sorely longed once to see This ●● street model of all womanhoode And next her selfe the flowre of chastitie Wherefore the Sunne now scorching in the skull Of L●o foorth a hunting needes would shee To Windesore forrest which she found as ful Of deere as trees yet trees so many ar As there the darts of Phoebus are too dull And pierce no more then doth the meanest starre There was the Lawrell that was glad to hide Her greene head from the face of Phoebus farre The I ordly Oake that scorn'd not by his side The bragging Brier and with wilde yuie was Like great God Bacchus crownd there was beside The smoothskinn'd Beech all kerued as did passe In curious knotts that did the names entwine Of many a Louer and of many a Lasse There was the Elme that vnderprops the Vine And Box wherof poore shephards frame their pipes The gentle Wood bind and sweete Eglantine Each other clipping with their amorous gripes The budded Hawthorn and our London dames Holy-reformers the Birch lacing stripes On lasie truands with such like whose names I know not saue the Willow that did guirde The bankes forsaken of the slippry Thames On euery tree did sit a seuerall bird And euery bird did sing his seuerall note This to the base a fift that sung a third Each one according to his aery throate A Summers day me thinkes were nothing long With the rare Musike which they made by rote Phoebe her selfe with all her Nymphs did throng To heare it as she had not heauenly beene And this was all the burden of their Song Long liue Diana and faire Katherene Wearied with toile but neuer with the noyse High time

she thought to goe and see the Queene For her declining brother that enioyes One part in one of her three-formed realmes Bade her breake vp those sports and earthly ioyes Sith he must neuer quench his thirsty beames Till she to heauen returne and take his place To gouerne there the starres and here the streames She therefore to the Castle gan to pace That bounteously was built of faire free-stone Whose guilded inside for the greater grace Was all set out with many a precious one And they with one that yet more precious was The cristall windowes round about it shone That as she stood therein the very glasse Seem'd rather to let out the lusty light On did the goddesse with her meany passe Till they came to a roome all richly dight Of heauenly blisse and happinesse the bowre Where each of other had this happy sight The place was after calld the Maydens towre But of Diana and her Maydes no doubt So called was and is vnto this howre Much the amazed goddesse look'd about But most astoned at the Queene shee stood That ready word she could bring hardly out Before the louely Queene who could more good Then halfe a world did silence softly breake Each Lilly blending with a Rose of blood Madame she sayde my tongue can hardly speake That vvorld of worth which I in you admire Then all that I can doe is farre too weake To answere your desert and my desire For since my Lord my life God his soule saue Was laide as well may witnesse my attire My better halfe since he was laide in graue I neuer yet came foorth in companie But in my chamber my selfe buried haue Wherefore if person here or aught there be That vnto you may breede the least offence God knowes it is without my priuitie But did I knowe I soone should rid him hence That of this action is not humbly glad And therewithall they both lowe reuerence Did one another Vp the while was had A Banquet to a by rome as did passe Bisket-bread Sucket Marchpane Marmalad Candids Conserues and all that dainty was It haild downe comfects and through euery spoutt The Sugar-Castles powrd out hypocras Walk'd vp and downe the boles so as I doubt If I may call them standing cups or no. And as the wine so went the day about Diana rose and ready was to goe When in an other cup of massie golde They crownd her wine that sparkled to and fro It was the king Confessors Cup of old Who liu'd a maried man and died a maide She kist the cup where grau'n she might beholde Actaeons death and downe it quickly laid Then turn'd a little to her maydes aside Rebuk't their want of secrecie and saide Could ye no better your owne counsailes hide But ouer England too it must be blaz'd Lo heere Actaeon in his horned hide While on our shame and nakednesse he gaz'd Therewith she pawz'd but they no word could say So were they at that liuely mappe amaz'd And sure the cup did all so wel display As if it white wine were that therein stoode Then would ye sweare Dianaes selfe there by Nakedly clothed with the cristall flood And were it redde there lay then would ye swears Actaeon bathing him in his owne blood At last as one that halfe abashed were Vnto the Queene she turn'd and vttred this Alacke alacke if his owne hownds did teare This fond Actaeon yet the fault was his And mine the griefe we gods are no lesse sory For mortalls punishments then for their amisse Though we by this and that declare our glory And our owne iustice in them both exalte Yet some will say and they too peremptory That this his fortune was and not his fault Was 't not his fault so to prophane a place That hallowed was with franckincense and salt Were 't not his fault that should surprise your grace Here in your chamber skare you or your traine And from your side your surest seruants race Abortiue fansies swimme about his braine And faile him when himselfe he most assures Runne all his plots and purposes in vaine That shall the like attempts on you or yours Thus ended she and with this speach the day On stole the night that parting stil procures As though it came to bid her come away Then tooke she leaue and in her coach did clime The Easterne hill with horses yron gray Where in slowe minutes she must tell the time And serue the vse of man God bade her so When neither Cocke doth crow nor Clocke doth chime Whether we see her siluer face or no Yet there she walkes as wel by day as night And still about her cristall or be doth goe But lord with what a longing and delight To Windsor ward she downe woulde cast her looke And guild the wide Thames with hir trembling light An other heauen ye would haue thought the brooke With Moone and Stars and here and there a cloude But in high heau'n what way so e're she tooke Queene Katharines praises there she rung aloude Set to the tune of her well tempred spheare Much more harmonious then is harpe and croud Hermes that all the ghosts belowe can reare And gently vsher with his snaky rod To this new Caroll gaue ' attentiue eare And as he is a very prating god To the bright Venus hath it told anone From the first point to the last period When she in all the haste would needes be gone To see below what all had heard aboue Of Englands Queene and peerelesse paragon Her Coach was drawne by many a Turtle-doue And driuen by a coachman of great worth Her little sonne the mighty god of Loue. So long he guided on his course by North When hauing past the seauenth and vtmost clime Out of the sea he might see peeping foorth A spot of Earth as white as any lime To which he thought it best his course to hold Now was the Earth for it was past the prime That had vnmask'd her of her tawny old Reuested with a flowry diadem And new greene veluet spangled all with gold Thus were the fields enameld all of them Along the siluer Thames that did embrace The golden meades in wanton armes and hem Their looser skitts like an indented lace Acrosle and vp and downe the riuer swame Her sacred swannes who when they saw her Grace Vnto her Coach to doe their homage came And from the land came Turtles many a paire Vnto her Deity who did the same Then Citherea seeing them so repaire Bespake Sir boy we sure be gone amisse But yet the best is this the way was faire Nay doubtlesse that no way to Windsore is But to our palace in mount C●theron And Cupid he was sore afraide by this Lest it were so indeede when hauing gone A little further he might plainely see Where with his eye a castle met anone High on a hill as though it scorn'd to be Built on the baser earth and towr'd aboue The lofty clowds with such a