Selected quad for the lemma: kingdom_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
kingdom_n	country_n	great_a	king_n	8,331	5	3.6012	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A96784	Vaticinium votivum or, Palæmon's prophetick prayer. Lately presented privately to His now Majestie in a Latin poëm; and here published in English. To which is annexed a paraphrase on Paulus Grebnerus's prophecie. With several elegies on Charls the First. The Lord Capel. The Lord Francis Villiers.	Grebner, Paul.; Wither, George, 1588-1667.	1649 (1649)	Wing W3206; Thomason E1217_2; ESTC R204106	24,839	96

my Arteries Hee di'd by th' barbarous hands of such a Frie As fed on Furies and have dreined Drie The Lerna of all Murthers to new-stock Mankinde with spreading Crimes such as may mock Preceding Treasons and the world supplie With a strange Mould to cast all Future by All former Acts were fictions unto this Raviliacks too is a Parenthesis A Murther so transcendent Annals shall Henceforth grow faithless and Apochryphal But Thou blest Martyr who hast here laid down And chang'd a Temporal for a Glorious Crown Hast finish't Thy great Work and by th' event Attain'd more then they promis'd but ne'r meant Rest ROYAL SIR rest in Your Sacred Hers While wee embalm Your Memorie with our Vers And trickling Tears which shall like Pearls refine Your Urn and serv for Diamonds to your Shrine You need no other Monument who have No less then three whole Kingdoms for Your Grave Whiles from the melting Marble of their Eies Is Crystalliz'd this Epitaph Here lie's Honor's rich Fountain the True Faith's Defender Religion and the Law's Prop and Extender The purest quintessence of Christian Zeal Best Father both of Church and Common-weal Virtues rare Patern Wedlocks chastest Mirror Rebellions and bold Treasons Scorn and Terror The spotless Sacrifice for the wilde flood Of 's People's loud sins CHARLS the Great the Good CHRONOSTICHON Decollationis CAROLI REGIS c. tricesimo die Januarii secunda hora Pomeridiana Anno Dom. MDCXLVIII Ter Deno IanI Labens ReX SoLe CaDente CaroLVs eXVtVs SoLIo SCeptróqVe SeCVre CHARLS ah forbear forbear lest Mortals prize His Name too dearly and Idolatrize His Name Our Loss Thrice cursed and forlorn Bee that Black Night which usher'd in this Morn CHARLS our Dread Sovereign hold lest Out-law'd Sens Bribe and seduce tame Reason to dispens With those Celestial Powers and distrust Heaven can Behold such Treason and prove Just CHARLS our Dread Sovereign's murther'd Tremble and View what Convulsions Shoulder-shake this Land Court Citie Countrie nay three Kingdoms run To their last Stage and Set with Him their Sun CHARLS our Dread Sovereign's Murther'd at His Gate Fell Fiends dire Hydra's of a Stiff-neck't-State Strange Bodie-Politick whose Members spread And Monster-like swell bigger then their Head CHARLS of Great Britain Hee who was the known King of three Realms lie's murther'd in His Own Hee Hee who liv'd and Faith's Defender stood Die'd here to re-Baptize it in His Blood No more no more Fame's Trump shall Eccho all The Rest in dreadful Thunder Such a Fall Great Christendom ne're Pattern'd and 't was strange Earth's Center reel'd not at this dismal Change The Blow struck Britain blinde each well-set Limb By Dislocation was lop't off in Him And if Shee yet live's Shee live's but to condole Three Bleeding Bodies left without a Soul Religion put's on Black Sad Loialtie Blushe's and Mourn's to see bright Majestie Butcher'd by such Assassinates nay both 'gainst God 'gainst Law Allegiance and their Oath Farewel sad Isle Farewel Thy fatal Glorie Is Summ'd Cast up and Cancell'd in this Storie FINIS OBSEQUIES ON That unexemplar Champion of Chivalrie and Pattern of true Prowess ARTHUR Lord CAPEL T' Is fals Astronomie Nor are wee yet In utter darkness though the Sun bee set Since Thy star-beaming-influence prove's all Those Rules Excentrick and Apocryphal Thou 'rt hight'ned by Thy Fall and dost now shine With doubled lustre since Thy last Decline Bright mirror of our Sphere who art no less Then Valor 's wonder Virtue's Master-piece Filling whole Volums with Thy Fame to tell The World Thy Worth was her own Chronicle To tell the World those Praises in the Wars Thou 'st purchas'd might bee numbred with the Stars And had Thy well-proportion'd-Daies been Spun Out by Thy Deeds Thou had'st out-liv'd the Sun Forcing the World's great Luminarie t' have His Chaös climacterick with Thy Grave Thus Thy renowned Meeds like Incens hurl'd On flaming Altars have Perfum'd the World With such rich Odors that scarce Envie knew Whether Thou wer 't to King or Realm most true Let State-Chronographers admire and plead Those Rites they ow to Honor when they read Thy rare Atchievements studying to refine The truth of Modern Historie by Thine Carthage bee dumb our Colchester stand's now Corrival with thee and dare's more then Thou And all those Punick Wars thy Walls could boast Have o're and o're been travers'd on her Coast Rome's three Horatii are pos'd our Isle Hath bred a Capel Lucas and a Lisle Whose matchless deed 's have Dub'd them with that late And glorious title of Triumvirate Whiles their transcendent merit strut's and strive's To stand on tip-toe in Superlatives And still there 's somthing more for what was mixt Promiscuously in these in Thee was fixt In Thee that Pythagorean Maxime's true And what was stale Philosophie prove's new Divinitie since th' Souls of all those Nine Renowned Ones Transmigrated in Thine But why do wee Adore Thee made immens And far sublim'd above our Sphere of Sens Scorning bright Obelisques of Brass or Stone Should rais Thy Monument who art Thine own Yet should'st Thou exspect a Shrine on Earth wee must Make Colchester th' Exchequer of Thy Dust Nor is it more then reason since 't were pitie To give Thee a less Church-yard then that Citie T' Interr Thee in her Breaches and o're-turn Her stately Bulwarks to support Thine Urn Whil'st the throng'd streets would justle to make room And spread their Towrs as Trophies o're Thy Tomb But this grand Task I recommend to those Who can limm Fancies in more lively Prose Whose Rhetorick may richly guild this Pile And rais Invention to a loftie stile Such as may Conjure Horror and oblige Faith-founder'd-Zelots to confess that Siege That fatal Siege whose Trenches were or'e-spread With mangled trunks and bodies of the Dead Till the discolour'd Earth thus di'd in Grain Blush't to behold such Shambles of the Slain And the pale Furies stood like heartless Elvs Trembling to see Men do more then Themselvs The Center-shaking-Brass grew hot and spoke In Flames of Lightning and in Clouds of Smoke And Charon fainted Ferrying Souls to Hell When Hecatombs of the Besiegers fell Amidst these Tragick Triumphs did'st Thou rear Thy brave Top-gallant 'bove the reach of Fear Undauntedly exposing Thy bold Head To shocks of Thunder and thick showrs of Lead Those Bullets were then Tame and wee may tax The partial Sword that spar'd Thee for the Ax. The Field th' Asylum of great Spirits clean Is changed here the Citie is the Scene The Cannon shew'd fair-plaie But Thou wer 't pack't Away not by an Ordnance but an Act. The Scaffold turn'd a Stage Where 't is confest The last Act though most Bloodie prov'd Thy Best It prov'd Thy solemn Coronation since The Yard 's Thy Palace and a Glorious Prince Thy President Who after Him art hurl'd To meet Thy Sovereign in another World Transferr'd from Earth to Heaven to remain A fixed Star and wait on CHARLS his WAIN OBSEQUIES Offered up

Trophies and displaie Thy matchless Chivalrie on that black daie Thou copd'st with Destinie and did'st resign Thy Temporal-Title for a more Divine Nor could Thy Courage stop or make a paus Where Honor call'd so loud and such a Caus As might provoke an Hermit and make room With His own Flame to meet His Martyrdom Armed with these resolvs encountring Fear Thou foild'st her quite whil'st in a brave career Thou did'st out-dare the Destinies and tread A loftie measure through whole showres of Lead Spight of the furie of th' opposing croud Cleaving Thy waie like Lightning through a Cloud Thus mid'st these tragick Triumphs wer't Thou hurl'd With loud Field-Musick from th' affrighted world A Conqueror o're Thy doom witness that Peal And vocal Vollie which chim'd forth Thy Knell To tell the world Thy Merit maugre Fate Still still survive's and is Invulnerate How large the storie or how ample wee 'l Not now remember since 't was writ with steel And register'd in Blood Th' indented Face Though no great Volume was the Common-Place And Index of Thy Valor everie scar Seeming at least som mistick Character While 's wee admire those Marginal Notes and vext Wee cannot Comment on so deep a Text But why do I revolv the short-writ-storie Of fading Youth or recollect the Glorie Of Thy blest Beautie which though once the Throne o th' Lillie and Rose was blasted before blown Prepo'strous Fate t' anticipate and bring On Winter e're Thou did'st enjoie Thy Spring To obnubilate Thy Morning-Sun and shroud Thy dawning splendor in a gloomie Cloud But ah Complaints are shadows and too brief To shew the world Thy Goodness or our Grief Nor can wee circumscribe or with weak sens Define Thy Merit which is so immens Alas wee knew 't was not the Cob-web-shrine Of Flesh could lodg so bright a Soul as Thine T' was not a Cabinet of Claie could hold So rich a Jewel nor the brittle Mould Of Earth contain a Seraphin in all His blest dimensions so Angelical Why should wee fondly then repine or why Thus pitie Him wee rather should envie His state transcend's our Passions nor may wee Revers or Counterman'd Heav'ns grand Decree Though Wee could weep a deluge to ingross Our Griefs and make them ample as His Loss And You blest Madam mirror of Your Sex And wonder of our Age surceas to vex Your Soul wth sad Remembrance whiles You smother And burie quick all Comforts in a Brother Those Diamond-Tears You daily shed of more Account then all those on the Indian shore Are spent in vain and You profusely prize His loss to waste the Treasure of Your eies His Fame require's no Monumental-stone Nor Epitaph why should You then bemoan His Funeral-Obsequies and thus make room i th' Tablet of Your Heart t' erect His Tomb Where You blest Votaress piously resign Your Sighs as Incens offer'd at His Shrine Whil'st in the Torrent of these Tears You swim Madam You do bewail Your Self not Him Who soar's above Your Sorrows and sit's in Commission with som blest Cherubin Inthron'd in those Celestial Mansions where Hee shine's like Heaven 's bright Champion in His Sphere On the MARTYRDOM Of His Late MAJESTIE c. COm com let 's Mourn all eies that see this Daie Melt into Showrs and Weep your selvs awaie O that each Private head could yield a Flood Of Tears whil'st Britain's Head stream's out His Blood Could wee paie what His Sacred Drops might claim The World must needs bee drowned once again Hands cannot write for Trembling let our Eie Supplie the Quill and shed an Elegie Tongues cannot speak this Grief know's no such vent Nothing but Silence can bee Eloquent Words are not here significant in This Our Sighs our Groans bear all the Emphasis Dread SIR What shall wee saie Hyperbole Is not a Figure when it speak's of Thee Thy Book is our best Language what to this Shall e're bee added is Thy Meiösis Thy Name 's a Text too hard for us no men Can write of it without Thy Parts and Pen Thy Prisons Scorns Reproach and Povertie Though these were thought too courteous Injurie How could'st Thou bear Thou Meeker Moses how Was ever Lion bit with Whelps till now And did not roar Thou England's David how Did Shimei's Tongue not move Thee Where 's the Man Where is the King CHARLS is all Christian Thou never wanted'st Subjects no when they Rebell'd Thou mad'st Thy Passions to obeie Had'st Thou regain'd Thy Throne of State by Power Thou had'st not then been more a Conqueror But Thou thine own Soul's Monarch art above Revenge and Anger Can'st Thou tame Thy Love How could'st Thou bear Thy Queen's Divorce must Shee At once Thy Wife and yet Thy Widdow bee Where are Thy tender Babes once Princely bred Thy choicest Jewels are They Sequestred Where are Thy Nobles Lo in stead of these Base savage Villains and Thine Enemies Egyptian Plague 't was onely Pharaoh's doom To see such Vermin in His Lodging-room What Guards are set what Watches do they keep They do not think Thee safe though lock't in Sleep Would they confine Thy Dreams within to dwell Nor let Thy Fancie pass their Centinel Are Thy Devotions dangerous Or do Thy Praiers want a Guard These faultie too Varlets 't was onely when they spake for You. But lo a Charge is drawn a Daie is set The silent LAMB is brought the Wolves are met Law is arraign'd of Treason Peace of War And Justice stand's a Prisoner at the Bar. This Scene was like the Passion-Tragedie His Saviour's Person none could Act but Hee Behold what Scribes were here what Pharisees What bands of Souldiers What fals witnesses Here was a Priest and that a Chief one who Durst strike at God and His Vicegerent too Here Bradshaw Pilate there This make's them twain Pilate for Fear Bradshaw condemn'd for Gain Wretch could'st not thou bee rich till Charls was dead Thou might'st have took the Crown yet spar'd the Head Th' hast justifi'd that Roman Judg Hee stood And washt in Water thou hast dipt in Blood And where 's the Slaughter-Hous White-hall must bee Lately His Palace now His Calvarie Great CHARLS is this Thy Dying-place And where Thou wer 't our KING art Thou our MARTYR there Thence thence Thy Soul took flight and there will wee Not ceas to Mourn where Thou did'st ceas to Bee And thus blest Soul Hee 's gon a Star whose fall As no Eclips prove's Oecumenical That Wretch had skill to sin whose Hand did know How to behead three Kingdoms at one blow England hath lost the Influence of Her KING No wonder that so backward was Her Spring O dismal Daie but yet how quickly gon It must bee short Our SUN went down at Noon And now yee Senators is this the Thing So oft declar'd Is this your Glorious King Did you by Oaths your God and Countrie mock Pretend a Crown and yet prepare a Block Did you that swore you 'd Mount CHARLS higher yet Intend the Scaffold for His