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Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
kingdom_n	good_a	people_n	time_n	1,769	5	3.1061	3	false

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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A38641	An essay upon satyr, or, A poem on the times under the names of the golden age, the silver age, the brazen age, and the iron age : to which is added, A satyr against Separatists.	Buckingham, John Sheffield, Duke of, 1648-1720 or 21.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700.	1680 (1680)	Wing E3299; ESTC R13552	32,624	92

Land The State 's now quite unhing'd the Engineers That have been ham'ring it these many years Now ply it home striking while th'Iron's hot And make our Jars th' ingredients of their Plot. When bing contriv'd by some whom Schism and Pride Had long ago inflam'd now when they spl'd The peoples mindes inclining to their Will Set on their work and more and more instill Sedition by themselves and Instruments To fill the peoples mindes with discontents But privately at first until at length They had encreas'd their number pow'r and strength CHAP. II. THen first a Meteor with a Sword breaks forth Into this Island from the boist'rous North Darting ill influences on our State And though we knew not what they aimed at They went to make us Denizons o'th'Tombs While they Religiously possess our rooms These from the entrails of a barren soil On an imagin'd wrong invade our Isle Upon pretence of Liberty to bring Slav'ry to us and Ruine to our King Whose yelling Throats b'ing choakt at last with that Which cures all Gold they aimed at A private Project to engage the Rout Of English-Scots to bring their ends about And spoil the Crown so what they could not do By force by fraud they slily work us to They came to help us that themselves might get And are dear Brethren but we pay for it Hence hence our Tears hence all our sorrow springs The curse of Kingdoms and the bane of Kings CHAP. III. THen they in publick meet and 'cause they knew All their success upon the people grew They feel their Pulses and their Cures applie Be 't good or bad still to their Phantasie What ere they love to praise and what they hate In every act to give a jerk at that What ere they would have done must not b'impos'd By Humane Law but with Religion gloz'd And when Laws penal are too weak to do it Then their Lay-Levites press the Conscience to it Who are maintain'd to preach and pray and pray As if they had Commissions of Array From Heav'n to make men fight they crie Arms Arms What e're 's the Text the Uses are Alarms Though they seem pale like Envy to our view Their very Pray'rs are of a sanguine hue And though they 've Jacob's Voice yet we do finde T hey've Esau's Hands nay more they 've Esau's mind Their empty Heads are Drums their Noses are In sound and fashion Trumpets to the War These dangerous Fire-brands of curst sedition Are Emissaries to increase division These make God's Word their Pander to attain The fond devices of their factious Brain Like Beacons being set themselves on fire In peoples mindes they Uproars straight inspire Or like the Devil who since from Heav'n he fell Labours to pull Mankinde with him to Hell In this beyond the Devil himself they go He sow'd by night they in the day-time sow He while the Servants slept did sow his Tares They boldly in God's Pastors sight sow theirs They 've tongue-ti'd Truth Scripture they 've made a Glass Where each new Heresie may see his Face CHAP. IV. THey make long Speeches and large promises And giving hopes of plenty and encrease Cherish all discontented men at hand To help all grievances they crouch and stand Congying to all and granting every Suit Approve all Causes Factions and impute All Scandals to the Court that they 're unjust And negligent giv'n to delight and Lust And what 's done there to give the more offence They still interpret in the worser sense In all they make great shows of what they 'll do They 'll hear the Poor and help the Needy too For in all civil Discords those that are Disturbers always counterfeit the care Of publick good pretending they will be Protectors of the peoples Libertie The priviledge o'th'State the good o'th'King The true Religion yet all 's but to bring Their own designes about they 'll ruine all That they may rise though the whole Kingdom fall By these delusions us'd with dext'rous Art They drew all Factious Spirits to their part The childish people gazing at what 's gay Flock to these Shows as to a Puppet-play Like Drunken men they this way that way reel And turn their Mindes as Fortune does her Wheel They long for noveltie are pleas'd with shows And few Truth from truth-seeming Errour knows Their Love like French-mens courage does begin Like Powder and goes out as soon's 't is in The thing or person whom they dearly love Within a moment hate and disapprove They measure every Action by th' event And if they 're crost by some ill accident Whoever serves them nere shall recompence With all his vertuous deeds one slight offence So wretohed is that Prince that Church that State That rests upon their love or on their hate They 'll all be Kings and Priests to teach and sway Their Brethren but they can't indure t' obey Nor rule themselves and that 's the onely cause Why they 've pluck'd down Religion and the Laws And yet will settle neither that they might Have fair pretences to make people fight For by this cunning every factious minde Hopes to finde that to which he 's most inclin'd They like Miscellionists of all mindes be Yet in no one opinion can agree Their Planet-heads they in Conjunction draw As emptie Skulls meet in a Golgotha Each Head his several sense though sensless all And though their humours by the ears do fall In this they jump To disobey and hate Whatere's injoyn'd them by the Church or State And all strive to be Reformation-men Yet putting out one evil bring in ten CHAP. V. GRreat men that would be little Kings did come Some led by discontent b'ambition some Others of ruin'd Fortunes but a minde To Pomp to Sloth and Luxurie inclin'd Who long'd for Civil Wars that they might be Instal'd in Wealth or we in Miserie These bobtail'd-Bears would fain like Lions raign And Clowns would drive or ride in Charles his Wain These by their greatness were the heads of Faction The Commons must be Hands and Feet of Action That must by force defend if they had need Their grand designe thus on their plots succeed All humours stir'd none cur'd jar yet conspire To be all Fuel to begin the fire Some go in wantonness to see and some Must go because they cannot stay at home Villains that from just death could not be free But by the Realms publick calamitie They 're like the Milt which never can encrease But by the Bodies ruine or disease That with our Money must recruit their Chests And onely in our trouble have their rests Such as in Luxurie in Lust in Play Have prodigally thrown their ' states away Convicted persons Bankrupt-Citizens That spend their own and long for other mens Servants which from their Masters hither flee And change their bondage for this libertie Men of high thoughts and of a desp'rate minde Wilde Gallants whose vast thoughts were not confin'd To'th'Circle of the Laws and all whom Want

None know the good of Peace but such as are Broil'd in the Furnace of Intestine War CHAP. VIII NOw having us'd the Effeminate war of words Which did enlarge the jars at length the Swords Apparelling themselves in robes of Blood Sate Doctors of the Chair which never stood To hear the Cause but quickly does decide All that comes near and without skill divide All individuums 'T is a fearful Case When undiscerning Swords have Umpires place That have two-edg'd to wound but have no eye To sever Justice from Iniquity When Rage and Ignorance shall moderate That understand no Syllogisms but straight Turning all method into curst confusion Majors to Minors bring both to Conclusion And now the great Reformists only care Is how to help those miseries which were Of their own rearing Faction like a Snake Stings those from whom it did a quick'ning take First all the Kingdom to a need they draw Then make that need they 've brought their only Law This Mint of Laws stands not on observation Of Statutes fixt the Birth-right of our Nation It 's turn'd a Warlike Council and no more A legal Senate as it was before Now Salus Populi begins to be The general Warrant to all Villanie Of which themselves are Judges Lawless Need The conqu'ring Rebel to all Laws does plead A priviledge what e're they say or do New need still makes them act contrary to When any injur'd Subjects did complain These two Laws paramount could all maintain Religion too and Fundamental Laws Are both o're-ruled by a Law call'd Cause CHAP. IX OUr Quarrel is a working jealousie Fixt in a sever'd Kingdom both sides be So diffident of each they 'll rather die Than trust each other such Antipathie Springs from this ground Subjects dare spill the Blood Of their Anointed Soveraign for his good Th' ungrateful Son forgetting Nature's Laws Dares kill his Father for the good of 's Cause Fathers their Sons and Brothers Kinsmen Friends Do seek their Brothers Friends and Kinsmens ends Arms that long useless lay for want of War Are now call'd forth more summoned from far English to English are become a terrour One wicked action is a second 's mirrour Each strives in mischief to transcend another And every Christian is a Turk to 's Brother Blows seldom fall upon a barren ground But bear Centuple crops they still rebound Rage begets Rage men do in Vice climbe higher And all bring fuel to encrease the fire Conscience rejected men their forces bend Which shall the rest in hight of sin transcend Now Faith and Loyalty grow out of date And Treason is the Gole that 's aimed at The sacred League 'twixt Body and the Soul Which Laws preserv'd inviolate and whole Is daily broke and that sweet Bridegroom forc'd From his beloved Spouse to be divorc'd Each man is drunk with Gallus and grows mad Nor can there Hellebore enough be had To re-instate our Reason in its Throne Nor have we sense enough to feel we 've none Th'Age was so vile the Iron Age of old Compar'd with ours may be an Age of Gold We in the times of Peace like th' Ocean were Impenetrable till Divisions tare Us from our selves and did divide us quite As the Red Sea was by the Israelite And we like Walls facing each other stand To guard our selves while they devour our Land We are like those that vainly go to Law And spend their Corn while they defend the Straw We sue for Titles Castles in the Air Egg'd on on both sides by the Martial Lawyer Who saies the Cause is good but what 's the fruit We spend the substance to maintain the Suit At last we purchase at so dear a rate A larger Title of an empty State But oh the general Law-case of our Nation Doth know no Term nor yet our woes Vacation CHAP. X. NAy we can't soon enough our selves undo But we call others in to help us too They bring their pocky Whores and do desire To drive us from our Land by Sword and Fire These serve as Umpires not to work our Peace But that their Wealth may with our Wars encrease For Forrain aids and Contributions are Not to conclude but to prolong the War All for their own advantage not t' expire But fewel-like t' encrease the fatal fire We like the Steel and Flint do fall by the ears And each by mutual blows his fellow wears Mean while the Souldier like a wily Fox Purses the golden sparkles which our knocks Strike forth so we must all expect no less Than certain Ruine or a sudden Peace These Journey-Souldiers will expect a pay Nor can fair promises their stomacks stay Plunder but blows the flame they will so far Ingage themselves in our unnat'ral War That when they end it it shall be so well They 'll take the Fish and give both sides a Shell They Phoenix-like will from our ashes rise And 't is our ruine only satisfies Their bloody mindes and we may justly fear They will have all not be content to share CHAP. XI HOw direful are th' effects of Civil War No Countries Cities Corporations are Nor Families but their division 's so That their own selves will their own selves undo One's for the King and t'other for the States And the poor Souldiers like the Andabates Fight blindfold shoot are shot are wounded die Only because they do not knowing why Yet those whom Rage had hurri'd on to slay Each other in the Exodus o'th'day Breathe with their souls their anger out and lie Kissing or hug each other when they die And though in life they had such enmitie Meet in one death and there they both agree Two Armies now against themselves do fight For th'publick good so equal both in might That between both the Kingdom 's like to fail And both to fall but neither to prevail Yet both in disagreeing do consent To be the Realms continual punishment While some like Camels take delight to swill Their souls i'th'troubled waters of our ill That are on foot i'th'Kingdom and do rise When that does fall and on our miseries Do float like Arks the more the Waves aspire The more they dance and are exalted higher That Leech-like live by Blood but let such know Though they live merry at the Kingdoms woe 'T is a sad Obit when their Obsequies Are tun'd with Widows and with Orphans cries Wo be to those that did so far engage This wretched Kingdom in this deadly rage That both sides being Twins of Church and State Should slay each other in their fatal hate This Mountain-sin will clog their guilty souls Whose pois'nous breath hath kindled all these coals And when their Souls do from their Bodies flie If they have burial which they so defie And 't is more fit their Carkas meat should be To beasts whom they transcend in crueltie Posterity upon their Tombs shall write Better these men had never seen the light 'T is just that all Achitophels of State That have his policie should

Mothers first came hither Are with their Mothers by them nail'd together From wounded Hearts a bloudy Ocean springs The King bleeds in our Wounds we in the Kings Slain Bodies naked lie and scarce can have A Christian Burial Kings scarce a Grave Nor have we Zoars to fly to from ill But must stay in this Sodome come what will Where we in floating bloud surrounded lie Like Islands in a Sea of Miserie Nor have we either Bulwarks Forts or Arms To stand betwixt our sences and our harms But our bare Skulls no Trumpets but our cries And those can't help though ease our miseries Complaint's an easement to a burden'd Soul That vents by retail what we feel in whole So on th' Hydraula's of our dropsi'd eyes We Swan-like sing at our own Obsequies We pour out Tears and having spent our store We weep again 'cause we can weep no more Yet all in vain our Griess do still extend And know no measure nor our Sorrows end Nay which is more those that should help all this Labour to make 't more woful than it is Peace we may labour for but ne're shall see Till men from pride and avarice be free Which since we so desire and cannot finde Let 's make a Ladder of our peace of minde By which we 'll skale that Throne where peace doth dwell Roab'd with such joys which none can think nor tell Which neither vice can break nor time decay Nor Schism nor Treason ever take away O det Deus his quoque sinem Postscript To his Judicious Friend Mr. J. H. FRIEND I Have anvil'd out this Iron Age Which I commit not to your Patronage But Skill and Art for till 't be fyl'd by you 'T will seem ill-shap'd in a judicious view But having past your test it shall not fear The bolt of Criticks nor their venom'd Spear Nay if you think it so I shall be bold To say 't is not an Age of Ir'n but Gold A. C. Eidem HIc Liber est mundus homines sunt Hoskine Versus Invenies paucos hîc ut in orbe bonos Owen Ep. To my Lord Lieutenant of IRELAND HOw much you may oblige how much delight The Wise and Noble would you die to night Would you like some grave sullen Nictor die Just when the Triumphs for the Victorie Are setting out would you die now t' eschew Our Wreaths for what your wisdom did subdue And though they 're bravely fitted for your head Bravely disdain to wear them till you 're dead Such Cynick-glory would out-shine the light Of Grecian-greatness or of Roman-height Not that the Wise and Noble can desire To lose the Object they so much admire But Heroes and Saints must shift away Their flesh ere they can get a Holy-day Then like to Time or Books feign'd Registers Victors or Saints renown'd in Calenders You must depart to make your value known You may be lik't but not ador'd till gone So curst a Fate hath humane excellence That absence still must raise it to our sense Great vertue may be dang'rous whilst 't is here It wins to love but it subdues to fear The mighty Julius who so long did strive At more than man was hated whilst alive Even for that Vertue which was rais'd so high When dead it made him straight a Deity Embassadors that carry in their breast Secrets of Kings and Kingdoms Interest Have not their Calling's full preheminence Till they grow greater by removing hence Like Subjects here they but attend the Crown Yet swell like Kings Companions when they 're gone My Lord in a dull Calm the Pilot grows To no Esteem for what he acts or knows But sits neglected as he useless were Or con'd his Card like a young Passenger But when the silent Windes recover breath When Storms grow loud enough to waken Death Then were he absent every Traffiquer Would with rich wishes buy his being there So in a Kingdom calm you leave no rate But rise to value in a storm of State Yet I recant I beg you would forgive That in such times I must perswade you live For with a Storm we all are overcast And Northern Storms are dangerous when they last Should you now die that only know to steer The Windes would less afflict us then our fear For each small States-man then would lay his hand Upon the Helm and struggle for Command Till the disorders that above do grow Provoke our curses whilst we sink below A SATYR AGAINST SEPARATISTS I 'Ve been Sir where so many Puritans dwell That there are only more of them in Hell Where silenc'd Ministers enough were met To make a Synod and may make one yet Their blessed liberty they 've found at last And talk'd for all those years of silence past Like some half-pin'd and hunger-starved men Who when they next get Victuals surfeit then Each Country of the World sent us back some Like several Windes which from all Quarters come To make a storm As 't haps 't is Sunday too And their chief Rabbies preach To Church I go He whines now whispers straight and next does roar Now draws his long words and now leaps them o're Such various voices I admir'd and said Sure all the Congregation in him praid 'T was the most tedious Soul the dullest he That ever came to Doctrines twenty three And nineteen Uses How he draws his Hum And quarters Haw talks Poppy and Opium No Fever a mans eyes could open keep All Argus body he 'd have preach'd asleep In half an hour The Wauld O Lawd he cries Lukewarmness And this melts the womens eyes They sob aloud and straight aloud I snore Till a kinde Psalm tells me the danger 's o're Flesh'd here with this escape boldly to th'Hall I venture where I meet the Brethren all First there to the grave Clergy I am led By whatsoever title distinguished Whether most reverend Batchellors they be Of Art or reverend Sophs or no Degree Next stand the Wall-eyed Sisters all arow Nay their Scal'd-headed Children they come too And mingled among these stood gaping there Those few Lay-men that not o' th' Clergy were Now they discourse some stories here relate Of bloudy Popish Plots against the State Which by the Spirit and Providence no doubt The men that made have found most strangely out Some blame the King others more moderate say He 's a good man himself but led away The women rip old Wounds and with small tears Recount the loss of the three Worthies Ears Away you fools 't was for the good o'th'men They ne're were perfect Round-heads until then But against Bishops they all rail and I Said boldly I 'd defend the Hierarchy To th'Hierarchy they meant no harm at all But root and branch for Bishops to 't we fall I like a fool with reason and those men With wrested Scripture a slie Deacon then Thrust in his Ears So speaks th'Apostle too How speaks he friend not in the nose like you Straight a She-zealot raging to me came

And said o'th'what d' you call 't party I am Bishops are limbs of Antichrist she cries Repent repent good woman and be wise The Devil will have you else that I can tell Believe 't and poach th' eggs o'those eyes in Hell An hideous storm was ready to begin When by most blessed Fate the meat came in But then so long so long a Grace is sed That a Good Christian when he goes to bed Would be contented with a shorter prayer Oh how the Saints injoy'd the creatures there Three Pasties in the minute of an hour Large and well wrought they Root and Branch devour As glibly as they 'd swallow down Church-land In vain the lesser Pies hope to withstand On Geese and Capons with what zeal they feed And wond'ring cry A goodly Bird indeed Their spirits thus warm'd all the jests from them came Upon the Names of Laud Duck Wren and Lamb Canons and Bishops Sees and one most wise I like this innocent Mirth at Dinner cries Which now by one is done and Grace by two The Bells ring and again to Church we go Four Psalms are sung wise times no doubt they be When Hopkins justles out the Liturgie Psalms which if David from from his seat of Bliss Doth hear he little thinks they 're meant for his And now the Christian Bajazet begins The suffering Pulpit groans for Israels sins Sins which in number many though they be And crying ones are yet less loud than he His stretch'd-out voice Sedition spreads afar Nor does he onely teach but act a War He sweats against the State Church Learning Sense And resolves to gain Hell by violence Down down ev'n to the ground must all things go There was some hope the Pulpit would down too Work on work on good Zeal but still I say Law forbids threshing thus o' th' Sabbath-day An hour lasts this two-handed Prayer and yet Not a kinde syllable from him can Heaven get Till to the Parliament he comes at last Just at that blessed Word his fury 's past And here he thanks God in a loving Tone But Laud and then he mounts All 's not yet done No would it were think I but much I fear That all will not be done this two hours here For now comes to As you shall finde it writ Repeats his Text and takes his leave of it And straight to his Sermon in such furious wise As made it what they call 't an Exercise The Pulpit's his hot Bath the Brethrens Cheer Rost-beef Minc't-py and Capon reek out here Oh how he whips about six year ago When superstitious Decencie did grow So much in fashion How he whets his fist Against the name of Altar and of Priest The very name in his outragious heat Poor innocent Vox ad palcitum how he beat Next he cuffs out Set-prayer even the Lords It bindes the Spirit he says as'twere with cords Even with Whip-cords Next must Authority go Authority's a kinde of binder too First then he intends to breathe himself upon Church-government have at the King anon The thing 's done straight in poor six minutes space Titus and Timothy have lost their place Nay with th'Apostles too it e'en went hard All their Authority two thumps more had mar'd Paul and S. Peter might be sure o' th' Doom Knew but this Lion Dunce they 'd been at Rome Now to the State he comes talks an Alarm And at th'malignant party flings his arm Defies the King and thinks his Pulpit full As safe a place for 't as the Knight does Hull What though no Magazine laid in there be Scarce all their Guns can make more noise than he Plots Plots he talks of Jealousies and Fears The politick Saints shake their notorious Ears Till time long time which doth consume and waste All things to an end this Sermon brought at last What would you have good Souls a Reformation Oh by all means but how o' th' newest fashion A pretty slight Religion cheap and free I know not how but you may furnish'd be At Ipswich Amsterdam or a Kingdom neer Though to say truth you paid for 't there too dear No matter what it costs we 'll reform though The Prentices themselves will have it so They 'll root out Popery whats'ever come It is decreed nor shall thy fate O Rome Resist their Vow They 'll do 't to a hair for they Who if upon Shrove-tuesday or May-day Beat an old Bawd or fright poor Whores they cou'd Thought themselves greater than their Founder Lud Have now vast thoughts and scorn to set upon Any Whore less than her of Babylon They 're mounted high contemn the humble play Of Cat or Foot-ball on a Holyday In Finsbury-fields No 't is their brave intent Wisely t' advise the King and Parliament The work in hand they 'll disapprove or back And cry i' th' Reformation What d' you lack Can they whole Shop-books write and yet not know If Bishops have a Right Divine or no Or can they sweep their doors and shops so well And for to clense a State as yet not tell No study and experience makes them wise Why should they else watch late and early rise Their wit so flows that when they think to take But Sermon-notes they oft new Sermons make In Cheapside-cross they Baal and Dagon see They know 't is gilt all o're as well as we Besides since men did that gay Idol rear God has not blest the Herbwives Trading there Go on brave Heroes and perform the rest Encrease your fame each day a yard at least Till your high Names are gro wn as gloriousfull As the four London-Prentices at the Bull So may your Goodly Ears still prickant grow And no bold Hair encrease to mar the show So may your Morefields-pastimes never fail And all the Towns about keep mighty Ale Ale your own Spirits to raise and Cakes t' appease The hungry coyness of your Mistresses So may rare Pageants grace the Lord-Mayor's show And none finde out that those are Idols too So may you come to sleep in Fur at last And some Smectymnuan when your days are past Your Funeral-sermon of six hours rehearse And Heywood sing your Acts in losty Verse But stay who have we next mark and give room The Women with a long Petition come Man's understanding is not half so great Th'Apple of Knowledge 't was they first did eat First then Plural'ties must be ta'ne away Men may learn thence to keep two Wives they say Next Scholarship and Learning must go down Oh fie your Sex so cruel to the Gown You do'nt the kindeness of some Scholars know The Cambridge-women will not have it so Learning 's the Lamp o'th'Land that shines so bright Are you s'immodest to put out the light This is a Conventicle-trick What 's next Oh! with the Churches solemn Forms they 're vext The signe o'th'Cross the Forehead must not bear 'T was only you were born to plant signes there No Font to wash Native Concupiscence in You like that itch still of Original sin No solemn Rites of Burial must be shown Pox take you hang your selves you shall ha'none No Organs Idols to the Ear they be No Anthemes why nay ask not them nor me There 's new Church-musick found instead of those The Womens Sighs tun'd to the Teachers Nose No Surplice no why none I crave They 're Rags of Rome I think what would you have Lastly they 'd Preach too let them for no doubt A finer Preaching-Age they 'll nere finde out They 've got the Spirit firy Tongues they 've that 's true And by their talk those should be double too OH Times oh Manners when the Church is made A Prey nay worse a scorn to ev'ry Cade And ev'ry Tyler when the popular rage The Ages greatest curse reforms the Age. When Reason is for Popery suppress'd And Learning counted Jesuitism at least When without books Divines must studious be And without meat keep Hospitality When men 'gainst antient Fathers rev'rend daies That many-headed Beast Smectymnuus raise That Hydra which would grow still and encrease But that at first it met an Hercules When the base rout the Kingdoms dirt and sink To cleanse the Church and purge the Fountains think They who whilst living waters they might take Drink Belgian ditches and the Lemnian lake When th'Liturgy which now so long hath stood Seal'd by five reverend Bishops sacred Bloud Is left for Non-sense and but pottage thought Pottage from Heav'n like that to Daniel brought Their Broaths have such weeds mixt and are so hot The Prophets Sons cry out Death 's in the pot Oh times Oh manners but me thinks I stay Too long with them and so much for to day Hereafter more for since we now begin You 'll finde we 've Muses too as well as Pryn FINIS