Selected quad for the lemma: heaven_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
heaven_n	great_a	see_v	son_n	5,173	5	5.0248	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A73861	The battaile of Agincourt Fought by Henry the fift of that name, King of England, against the whole power of the French: vnder the raigne of their Charles the sixt, anno Dom. 1415. The miseries of Queene Margarite, the infortunate wife, of that most infortunate King Henry the sixt. Nimphidia, the court of Fayrie. The quest of Cinthia. The shepheards Sirena. The moone-calfe. Elegies vpon sundry occasions. By Michaell Drayton, Esquire.	Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.	1631 (1631)	STC 7191; ESTC S109888	153,591	328

doth enclose her eyes Neuer did death so terribly appeare 〈…〉 e first their Armes the English learnt to weeld ●ho would see slaughter might behold it heere 〈…〉 the true shape vpon this fatall field 〈…〉 vaine was valour and in vaine was feare 〈…〉 vaine to fight in vaine it was to yeeld In vayne to flye for destiny discust By their owne hands or others dye they must Here her deare Deuonshire noble Courtney dyde ●er faithfull friend great Somerset here fell ●●lnes Leukn●r Hamden Whittingham beside O Margarite who thy miseries can tell ●harp were those swords which made their wounds so wide Whose blood the soy●e did with abundance swell Other her friends into the Towne that fled Taken no better then the former sped But the amazing misery of all 〈…〉 heauen the great'st vntill the last had kept 〈…〉 it would say that after this none shall 〈…〉 mortall eyes be worthy to be wept The Prince her sonne who sees his friends thus fall And on each side their ●arkases lye heapt Making away in this most piteous plight 〈…〉 s taken prisoner in his tardy flight And forth by Cr●fts before the con 〈…〉 or brought ●is Proclamation cleering euery doubt 〈…〉 he youths safety liuing where he caught 〈…〉 a reward to him should bring him out But when they once had found him whō they soug 〈…〉 Hearing his answeres Princely wise and stout Those bloody brothers Hastings and the rest Sheath'd their sharpe ponyards in his many br 〈…〉 Queene Margarite thus of mortalls most forlo 〈…〉 Her sonne now slaine her army ouerthrowne Left to the world as fortunes only scorne And not one friend to whom to make her moane To so much wo was neuer woman borne This wretched Lady wandring all alone Gets to a homely Cell not farre away If possibly to hide her from the day But wretched woman quickly there bewray'd She thence is taken and to Prison sent Meanely attended miserably array'd The people wondring at her as she went Of whom the most malicious her vpbray'd With good Duke Humphries death her heart to rent Whilst her milde lookes and Gracefull gesture drue Many a sad eye her miseries to rue Till by Duke Rayner Ransomed at last Her tender Father who a Prince but poore Borrow'd great Summes of Lewis with much wast Which for he was not able to restore Prouince and both the Cicils to him past With fruitfull Naples which was all his store To bring her backe from earthly ioyes exil'd The vndon Father helpes the vndone Child And though enlarg'd ere she could leane the land 〈…〉 king a long yeere of each short-liu'd houre 〈…〉 e heare 's that by Duke Richards murthering hand ●he King her husband suffers in the Towre As though high heauen had layd a strict command Vpon each starre some plague on her to powre And vntill now that nothing could suffice Nor giue a period to her miseries FINIS NIMPHIDIA THE COVRT OF FAYRIE OLde Chaucer doth of Topas tell Mad Rablais of Pantagruell A latter third of Dowsabell With such poore trifles playing Others the like haue laboured at Some of this thing and some of that And many of they know not what But that they must be saying Another sort there be that will Be talking of the Fayries still Nor neuer can they haue their fill As they were wedded to them No tales of them their thirst can slake So much delight in them they take And some strange thing they faine would make Knew they the way to doe them Then since no Muse hath bin so bold Or of the Latter or the old Those Eluish secrets to vnfold Which ly from others reeding ●y actiue Muse to light shall bring The court of that proud Fayry King And tell there of the Reuelling Ioue prosper my proceeding And thou Nimphidia gentle Fay Which meeting me vpon the way These secrets didst to me bewray Which now I am in teiling My pretty light fantasticke mayde ●here inuoke thee to my ayde That I may speake what thou hast sayd In numbers smoothly swelling This Pallace standeth in the ayre By Negromancy placed there That it no Tempests needes to feare Which way so ere it bloweth And somewhat Southward tow'rd the Noone Whence lyes a way vp to the Moone And thence the Fayrie can as soone Passe to the earth below it The Walles of Spiders legges are made Well mortized and finely layd He was the master of his Trade It curiously that builded The Windowes of the eyes of Cats And for the roofe instead of Slats Is couer'd with the skinnes of Bats With Mooneshine that are guilded Hence Oberon him port to make Their rest when weary mortalls take And none but onely Fayries wake Descendeth for his pleasure And Mab his merry Queene by night Bestrids young Folkes that lye vpright In elder Times the Mare that height Which plagues them out of measure Hence Shaddowes seeming Idle shapes Of little frisking Elues and Apes To Earth doe make their wanton skapes As hope of pastime hasts them Which maydes thinkes on the Hearth they see When Fires well neere consumed be Their dauncing Hayes by two and three Iust as their Fancy casts them These make our Girles their sluttery rue By pinching them both blacke and blew And put a penny in their shue The house for cleanly sweeping And in their courses make that Round In Meadowes and in Marshes found Of them so call'd the Fayrie ground Of which they haue the keeping These when a Child haps to be got Which after proues an Ideot When Folkes perceiue it thriueth not The fault therein to smother ●ome silly doting brainelesse Calfe ●hat vnderstands things by the halfe ●ay that the Fayrie left this Aulfe And tooke away the other But listen and I shall you tell ● chance in Fayrie that be fell Which certainely may please you well In Loue and Armes delighting Of Oberon that iealous grew Of one of his owne Fayrie crue Too well he fear'd his Queene that knew His loue but ill requiting Pigwiggen was this Fayrie Knight One wondrous gracious in the sight Of faire Queene Mab which day and night He amorously obserued Which made King Oberon suspect His seruice tooke too good effect His saucinesse and often checkt And could haue wisht him starued Pigwiggen gladly would commend ●ome token to Queene Mab to send ●f Sea or Land him ought could lend Were worthy of her wearing ●t length this Louer doth deuise ● bracelet made of Emmotts eyes ● thing he thought that shee would prize No whitt her state impayring And to the Queene a letter Writes Which he most curiously end●es Con●●ring her by all the rites Of loue she would be pleased To meete him her ●●ne Seruant where They might without suspect or feare Themselues to one another cleare And haue their poore hearts cased At mid night the appointed hower And for the Queene a fiering Bower Quoth he is th●t faire Cowslip flower On Hipcut hill that

borne Of Christian Kings the greatest then aliue Now he the Crowne full forty yeeres had worne Doth all his Regall Soueraignety suruiue Of all men liuing and the most forlorne So strange a thing can destiny contriue So many sundry miseries as he No King before had euer liu'd to see To heare all this Queene Margarite must end● Yet sadly to her fathers Court confin'de And now King Edward held himselfe secure When things fell out so fitly to his minde But when of rest he did himselfe assure Vpon a suddaine rose so rough a wind In his strong hand which shooke his Scepter mo 〈…〉 Then all the stormes that ere had blowne before For then in minde to league himselfe with Fr 〈…〉 Which he perceiu'd would be the surest way His questiond Tytle highly to aduance And at his need should serue him for a kay ●o open him their policies vvhose chance ●as then in casting and the next to play For Margarite still the French King Lewis prest For second aydes nor would she let him rest Wherefore he sends a marri'ge to entreat ●ith beautious Bona with whose rich report ●ame was opprest with and a taske too great ●he French Queenes sister and with her in Court ●arwicke the man chose foorth to worke the feat ●●● is sent thither in such sumptuous sort And in short time so well his businesse plyes That she was like to proue an English prize In the meane while this youthful King by chance ●omming to Grafton where the Dutchesse lay ●hen stil'd of Bedford his eye haps to glance 〈…〉 her bright Daughter the faire Widdow Gray 〈…〉 se beauties did his senses so intrance 〈…〉 stole his heart so suddainly away That must he lose his Crowne comeweale come woe She must be his though all the world say no Her lookes like Lethe make him to forget ●on what businesse he had Warwicke sent 〈…〉 this Lady he his loue so set 〈…〉 at should his Crowne from off his head be rent ●his rebellious people rise to let ●s choyse of his they should it not preuent For those pure eyes his bosome that had pierc'd Had writ alaw there not to be reuers'd What lesse amends this Lady can I make For her deere husband in my quarrell slaine Then lawfull marri'ge which for iustice sake I must performe quoth hee lest she complaine For a iust Prince so me the world shall take Soothing himselfe vp in this amorous vaine With his affections in this sort doth play Till he a Queene made the faire Lady Gray This Act of Edwards com'n to Warwicks eare And that the sequell show'd it to be true In his sterne eyes it eas'ly might appeare His heart too great for his strait bosome grew He his Commission doth in piece-meale ●eare Breakes the broad Seale and on the ground it th● And prayes blest heau'n may curse him if that ● For this disgrace reuenged would not be Haue I quoth hee so lifted thee 〈…〉 That to thy greatuesse I the scorne am growne Haue I for thee aduentur'd beene so oft In this long Warre as to the world is knowne And now by thee thus basely am I scoft By this disgrace vpon me thou hast throwne If these thy wrongs vnpunish'd slightly passe Hold Warwicke base and falne from what he was Know t w'as the Nevills forthy Title stood Else long e'r this layd lower then the ground And in thy cause my Father shed his blood None of our house for thee but beares a wound And now at last to recompence this good 〈…〉 for me this Guerdon hast thou ●ound 〈…〉 proud head this h●d shal pluck thy crown Or if thou stand then 〈…〉 Warwick down Yet he to England peaceably repaires And with a smooth browe smother● his intent And to the King 〈…〉 the French affaires ●● what in Court had past there since he went His spleene he for a fitter season spares 〈…〉 he the same more liberally might vent Calme was his countenance and his language faire But in his brest a deepe revenge he bare MEane while Queene Margarit a poore exile heares How things in England in her absence went 〈…〉 halfe burst heart which but a little cheeres ●●● from her head she felt the Crowne was rent ●et though fare off a little glimpse appeares ● seeming hope and though it fain●ly lent It might hau● said had not the F●●es said no These stormes at home might her some profit blow 〈…〉 heares how Warwicke cunningly had wrought 〈…〉 Duke of Clarence from his brothers side ●●● that braue Youth at Callice hauing caught ●●● eldest daughter had to him affide How to rebell the Northerne men were brou● And who by Warwicke poynted was their guide A● on the W●l●h he had a mighty hand By Edward rais'd those rebels to withstand Of new Rebellions at Northampton rais'd And to despight the King what they had done How they at Grafton the Earle Riuers seas'd And Sir Iohn Wooduile his most hopefull Sonne Who with their heads could hardly be appeas d And of the fame by puissant Warwicke wonne Who hauing taken Edward in his Tent His King his prisoner into York●shir● sent Then heares againe how Edward had escapt And by his friends a greater power had got How he the men of Lincolneshire intrapt Who neere to Stamford pay'd a bloody shot And when the Earle his course for Callice shapt When England lastly grew for him to hot Vaucleere who there his Deputy he put The Ports against his late grand Captaine shut Lastly shee heares that he at Deepe ariues And lately com'n to Amboyes to the Court ●●ereas King Lewis to his vtmost striues ●o entertaine him in most Princely sort When the wise Queene her businesse so contriues That she comes thither small what though her port Yet brings along the sweet yong Prince her son●e To proue what good with Warwick might be done Wen both in Court and presence of the King Their due respect to both of them that gaue ●● will'd them in so pertinent a thing That they the like should of each other haue The teares began from both their eyes to spring That each from other Pitty see●'d to craue In gracefull manner when the grieued Queene Thus to that great Earle gently breaths her spleene Warwicke saith shee how mercilesse a Foe ●●st thou beene still to my poore child and mee ●hat villaine Yorke which hast aduanced so Which neuer could haue risen but for thee ●hat Valour thou on Edward didst bestow ● hadst thou show'd for him thou here dost see Our Damaske Roses had adorn'd thy Crest And with their wreathes thy ragged Staues bene drest First at Saine Albans at Northampto● then 〈…〉 fatall Towt●n that most fearefull fight 〈…〉 many nay what multitudes of men 〈…〉 fierce Warwicke slaine and put to flight O if thy Sword that euer stood for ●en Had but beene drawne for Henry and his right He should

plaine thou likd'st not me Why know poore Slaue I no more thinke of thee Then of the Ordure that is cast abroad I hate thy vice more then I doe a Toade Poore is the spirit that fawnes on thy applause Or seekes for suffrage from thy Barbarous Iawes Misfortune light on him that ought doth way Yee sonnes of Beliall what yee thinke or say Who would haue thought whilst wit sought to aduance It selfe so high damn'd beastly ignorance Vnder the cloake of knowledge should creepe in And from desert should so much credit win But all this poysonous froth Hell hath let flie In these last dayes at noble Poesie That which hath had both in all times and places For her much worth so sundry soueraigne graces The language which the Spheares and Angels speake In which their minde they to poore Mortals breake By Gods great power into rich soules infus'd By euery Moone-Calfe lately thus abus'd Should all hells blacke inhabitants conspire And more vnheard of mischiefe to them hyer Such as high Heau'n were able to affright And on the noone sted bring a double night Then they haue done they could not more disgrace her As from the earth euen vtterly terace her What Princes lou'd by Peasants now made hatefull In this our age so damnably ingratefull And to giue open passage to her fall It is deuis'd to blemish her withall That th'hideous braying of each Barbarous Asse In Printed Letters freely now must passe In Accents so vntuneable and vile With other Nations was might damne our Ile If so our tongue they truely vnderstood And make them thinke our braines were meerely m●a To make her vile and vgly to appeare Whose naturall beauty is Diuinely cleare That on the Stationers Stall who passing lookes To see the multiplicity of Bookes That pester it may well beleeue the Presse Sicke of a surfet spu'd with the excesse Which breedeth such a dulnesse through the land Mongst those one tongue which onely vnderstand Which did they reade those sinewie Poems writ That are materiall relishing of wit Wise pollicie Morallity or Story Well purtraying the Ancients and their glory These blinded Fooles on their base Carrion feeding Which are in trueth made ignorant by reading In little time would growe to be asham'd And blush to heare these lowzie Pamphlets nam'd Which now they studie naught but folly learning Which is the cause that they haue no discerning The good from bad this ill that well to know Because in ignorance they are nourish'd so Who for this hatefull trash should I condemne They that doe vtter or Authorize them O that the Ancients should so carefull be Of what they did impresse and only wee Loosely at randome should let all things flie Though gainst the Muses it be blasphemy But yet to happy spirits and to the wise All is but foolish that they can deuise For when contempt of Poesie is proudest Then haue the Muses euer sung the lowdest But to my Calfe who to be counted prime According to the fashion of the time Him to associate some Buffoon doth get Whose braines he still with much expence must whet And euer beare about him as his guest Who comming out with some ridiculous iest Of one perhaps a god that well might be If but compar'd with such an Asse as hee His Patron rores with laughter and doth cry Take him away or presently I dye Whilst that Knaue-foole which well himselfe doth know Smiles at the Coxecombe which admires him so His time and wealth thus lewdly that doth spend As it were lent him to no other end Vntill this Moone-Calfe this most drunken puffe Euen like a Candle burnt vnto the snuffe Fierd with surfet in his owne greace fries Sparkles a little and then stinking dies The wealth his Father by extortion wonne Thus in the spending helps to damne the Sonne And so falls out indifferently to either Whereby in hell they iustly meete together And yet the World much ioyes in her behalfe And takes no little pleasure in her Calfe Had this declining time the Freedome now Which the braue Romane once did it allowe With wyer and Whipcord yee should see her payd Till the luxurious Whore should be afraid Of prostitution and such lashes giuen To make her blood spirt in the face of Heauen That men by looking vpward as they goe Should see the plagues layd on her here below But now proceed we with the other Twin Which is most woman who shall soone begin To shew her selfe no sooner got the Teenes But her owne naturall beauty she disdaines With Oyles and Broathes most venomous and base She plaisters ouer her well-fauoured face And those sweet veines by nature rightly plac'd Wher with she seem'd that white skin to haue lac'd She soone doth alter and with fading blew Blanching her bosome she makes others new Blotting the curious workemanship of nature That e're she be arriu'd at her full stature E're she be drest she seemeth aged growne And to haue nothing on her of her owne Her black browne aburne or her yellow hayre Naturally louely she doth scorne to weare It must be white to make it fresh to show And with compounded meale she makes it so With fumes and powdrings raising such a smoke That a whole Region able were to choke Whose stench might fright a Dragon from his den The sunne yet ne're exhal'd from any Fen Such pestilentious vapours as arise From their French powderings and their Mercuries Ireland if thou wilt able be alone Of thine owne power to driue out thy Tyrone By heaping vp a masse of Coyne together Sheere thy olde Wolues and send their Fle●ces hether Thy white Goates hayre Wales dearer will be solde Then silks of Naples or then Threed of gold Our Water-dogs and slands here are shorne White haeyre so much of Women here is worne Nay more then this they 'll any thing endure And with large summes they sticke not to procure Haire from the dead yea and the most vncleane To helpe their pride they nothing will disdaine Then in attyring her and in her sleepe The dayes three parts she exercis'd doth keepe And in ridiculous visits she doth spend The other fourth part to no other end But to take note how such a Lady lyes And to gleane from her some deformities Which for a grace she holds and till she get She thinks her selfe to be but counterfet Our Merchants from all parts twixt either Inde Cannot get silke to satisfie her minde Nor natures perfect'st patterne can suffice The curious draughts for her embroderies She thinkes her ●onour vtterly is lost Except those things doe infinitely cost Which shee doth weare nor thinke they can her dre●● Except she haue them in most strange excesse And in her fashion she is likevvise thus In euery thing she must be monstrous Her Picadell aboue her crowne vp beares Her Fardingale is set aboue her eares Which like a broad sayle with the wind doth swell To driue this faire Hulke headlong into hell After