Selected quad for the lemma: friend_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A20091
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VVarres, vvarre[s,] vvarres
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Dekker, Thomas, ca. 1572-1632.
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1628
(1628)
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STC 6531; ESTC S105272
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6,317
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52
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whilst Battle-axes Helmets batter The Cannon roares by thousands men dye groning But Drums so cheere the rest none minds their moning Gold lacde Buffe-ierkins drop Feathers look pale Whilst tottred de sperueâ—wes all stormes of Haile Stand like tough Briers Heads are for foot-bals tost Armes flye to seeke their Maisters yet both lost Whose mangled Carcases besmeet'd in gore Troupes of Carbines in Tryumph trample o're Here may you see hot spirits as fiercely meete As Whirle-winds do whilst rocks or oakes they greet Yet by strong tugging when their Flames are spent Lye like deere friends tho into wounds all rent Whose streames gush out so fast they oâ—â— are found Suffring two deaths and are both kild and drown'd A thousand windings and a thousand wayes The General beates euen whilst the ordnance plaies To winne the Wind the Sun the Wood the Hell None know what cares the noble Souldier fill Blacke fate there 's drop'd a Leader to the ground Courage he cryes yet Souldiers slights the wound And though death stare in 's face death him doth feare To fall saith he is Fortune de la Guerre As when a Phâ—â—nix to her death-bed comes She buildes a nest of spice and odorous gummes Then in the Sunnes hot flames clapping her wings She burnes to Death out of whose ashes springs A second Phaenix So when Leaders fall E're the last gaspe about them quicke they call Their souldiers whom they heat with their own fire To fight it out who seeing their soules retire To heauenly Tents Ten thousand Leaders rise From them and On a maine On each man cries A fare-well vollied loud from one to one Thus Epitaph'd There 's a braue fellow gon Nor tho a hundred Captaines should lye slaine Run the rest head-long on 't were poore and vaine By quitting others Deaths to meete their Owne No euery Souldier when the Dice are throwne Waites his owne Cast and waâ—ebeâ— his owne Game The vpshot of all faire-play being true Fame For as yong flowers make garlands for the spring As Coronets of Lillies honor bring To amorous Riuers As those smells are rare Which Summers warme hand throwes into the aire As Incense from the Tyrannizing Fire Breaks in sweet clouds and more the flames conspire To choake her odorous breath with richer sent Her Roseall wings fanne all the Firmament So mooues a Souldier in his constant Sphaere His great Desires still burning sweete and cleare Nor seekes he blood but high deeds rather Fame Than a fought Battaile for a nobler Name Is grauen vpon the sword that 's dip'd in Oyle Than that in blood which does all brightnesse foile When horror will spare none 't is Law to Kill But Honor sayes T is better saue than spill Who then with lippes prophane dare curses lay On Warre who to all Glory beates the way Nay to all goodnesse Downe the Court pride falls When He 's in place Church-Simony no man calls To a fat Benefice Bribery dares not feele The Lawyers pulse nor Vsuries golden wheele Whirle in the City Country Foxes hide Their ill got spoyles which Warre can soone deuide Breake then thou thunder that foule bed of snakes Which a Luxurious peace her darling makes Dandling the Plump Brood on her wanton knees Whose Braines War would beat out froÌ„ the Lees Racke the pure wine whose heate should kindle fires For deeds Heroicall Warre more admires One Bethlem Gabor or one Spinola Than all the braue men on S t. George his Day But why doe I Out-Landish coyne thus raise When our own English stamps deserue more praise Giue me a stout Southampton and hiâ— Sonne A fiery Oxford who toth' Top would runne Of the most dangerous hottest high designe An Essex which does euen himselfe cut shine In noble Darings would I had a Pen To set the worths downe of the best of Men The farre fam'd Warwicke Holland Willoughby Whose Actes too high a Pitch for me doe flye I am no Eagle to behold such Sunnes My humble Muse in her owne circle runnes And that 's in thee O Troynonant Old Rome Couldst thou thy gray head lift vp from thy Tombe Glorious as when thy Browes were deck'd with Bayes Higher in fame thy Sons thou couldst not rayse Then London now can here Thy Citizens Had not more honors from the Roman pens Than ours now meâ—rit Like a brazen well Shee should War thunder vp braue spirits can call To guard her towers and pinnacles sonnes here bred Vnder her wing and by her cherished Nor needs she send to Forraine shores for men To lead her Troupes How many a Citizen Stood horror at the Gates could fairely steere And in a rough storme guide both Van and Reare But aboue all the rest why should not I The Fames sing of our twice Decemviri Our twenty Citty Captaines Bond Leate Fen. A chiefe yet Gound amongst our Aldermen Stiles Williams Smith Andrewes march vp here Lasher and Henshaw i th' next Front appeare Walker and Halsey then with Rowdon lead Their Companies stoutly on lyes Milward dead No with a brow vp-reard to'th Field He hyes Wallers and Langhams Drums deafning the skies Lee Fen and Dichfield come in braue array Whilst Wilde and Marshall striue to win the Day Win may they other notes our Muse must sing And to the Sunne play on a louder string VVarre and the Sunne Compared WAr and the Sun are Twinnes as the Sun rides In 's chariot all of flames which himself guides Through heauen the vast earth measuring inon day And of all Countries so takes full suruay Cheering all Nations which his god-like eyes Who sets as he sets rise as he does rise And in a yeare this princely Bridegroome shines Twelue times in his 12. houses the 12 Signes So War holds the whole world in Souereigne awe His not the Common but the Cannon Law What Kingdomes are not glad to see him ride On thunder lightning lackying by his side Turkes Tartars Persians Indians all adore The god of Warre all dance to heare him rore The Pole Russe Hungar Sweue and yellow Dane English French Spanish Dutch waite on Wars traine And to such heigth their Empires nere had brought But for the braue old battailes they haue Fought Warre and the Sunne you see then may be Twins For dey being borne Warres teeming Birth begins Nay one perpetuall motion they both keepe The Sunne still wakes and Warre can neuer sleepe Last of the Sunne that he no point may lacke Warre has found out a rare new Zodiacke With signes of selfe-same names in which the Sunne Does in his euerlasting Progresse runne Warre his Zodiacke 1. Aries WHen into horned Moones the Squadrons change Then the Battalia does in Aries Range Here the braue Van comes vp a Souldiers pride Who dye here Winne a Death that 's dignified 2. Taurus WHen like two stiffe-neck'd Buls fell Armies meete Being goard quite through with wounds from head to feete The bellowing Taurus is a lusty signe That souldiers then in Scarlet-triumphes shine 3. Gemini