Selected quad for the lemma: kingdom_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
kingdom_n	king_n	leave_v	lord_n	2,600	5	3.6008	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A56858	Regale lectum miseriæ, or, A kingly bed of misery in which is contained a dreame with an elegie upon the martyrdome of Charls, late King of England, of blessed memory, and another upon the right Honorable the Lord Capel : with A curse against the enemies of peace, and The authors farewell to England / by John Quarles.	Quarles, John, 1624-1665.	1649 (1649)	Wing Q135; ESTC R5228	28,866	72

Oh make them to behold Their errours Let not Conquest make them bold Here stop my Muse le ts labour to accost Our former Glory Charles though we have lost His sacred Person yet we must not lose His happy memory Ah who can chuse But sigh when as they seat his glorious name Within their serious thoughts If ever Fame Receiv'd a Crown it was from Him whose worth My wearied Quil's too weak to blazon forth And when the best of my endeavour's done I shall but light a Candle to the Sun Yet will I spend my strength a feeble light Plac'd by a greater makes it shine more bright He was 't is not unknown to all the earth A Prince by vertue and a Prince by birth In the exordium of his Reign he swaid The Scepter of this Land till time betraid Cupid and Mars with a Majestick brow And made his chearfull subjects hearts to bo● In honor and it could not be exprest Whether he rul'd himself or Subjects best He was a Prince whose life and conversation Impoverish'd vices and enrich'd his Nation With good examples Honor never found So sweet an harbour Vertue never crown'd So rare a heart Love reign'd within his eye And there was clothed with Divinitie Vertue and Majestie did seem to strive Within his Royall brest which should survive In greatest Glory but 't was soon decided Martha and Mary would not be divided No more would they there was a sympathie Between them both for if the one should die The other could not live they were combin'd Within his brest and could not be disjoynd O happy is that Land where Vertue shall Meet Majestie within a Princes Hall He was a King not onely over Land But over Passion for he could command His Royall Self and when approaching trouble Assaild his mind his wisdome would redouble His present patience and he would allow The worst of sorrows a contented brow His undivided soul was alwaies free To propagate the works of Pietie His heart was still attracted to good motions By the true Loadstone of his firm devotions He alwaies studied how to recompence Good deeds with full rewards as for offence He sooner would forgive it then impose A punishment his meekness made his foes Grow supercilious and at last they made A private snare and zealously betraid The Lord of Englands life whose free consent Granted them a Triennial Parliament To salve the Kingdoms grievances but they Took not the grievances but Him away It could not be distinguish'd which did reign Mars or Apollo most within his brain He was a Cesar and the equall fame Of War and Wisdom dwelt upon his Name As for his Martiall parts Edge-hill will bear An everlasting record how his care And resolution did maintain that Fight Till day submitted to th' incroaching night Although Heavens General was pleas'd to bring Such small conditions to so great a King We must not judge that 't is success that can Procure the title of a valiant man For that will but instruct him how to fly Upon the wings of popularity As for his Theologick parts I may Without presumption absolute say He was a second David and could raise A lofty strain to sing his Makers praise Read but his Meditations and you 'l finde His brest attain'd an heav'n-enameld minde Now Reader close thine eys and do not read My following lines except thy heart can bleed And thou not die Ah here 's a mournfull text Imports a death Suppose what follows next And 't is enough Oh that I could ingrosse The Language of the world t' expresse this losse Break hearts weep eys lament your Soveraign's And let Him swim unto his Funerall In Subjects teares oh had you seen his feet Mounted the stage of blood and run to meet The fury of his foes and how his breath Proclaim'd a correspondency with death Oh then thy diving heart must needs have found The depth of sorrow and receiv'd a wound That Time could not recure oh such a sight Had been sufficient to have made a night Within this little world hadst thou but seen What soule-defending patience stood between Passion and him with what a pleasing grace As if that death had blush'd within his face He look'd upon his people which surrounded His mourning Scaffold whilst his thoughts abounded With heav'nly ruptures his Angellike voice Taught Ioy to weep and sorrow to rejoyce Teares blinded many that they could not see So bloody so abhorr'd a Tragedy He look'd as if he rather came to view His Subjects then to bid them all adue Feare had no habitation in his breast And what he spoke was readily exprest Heav'ns sacred Orator divinely typp'd His tongue with golden languages and dipp'd His soul in Loves sweet fountaine so that all That lov'd admir'd and griev'd to see him fall Whil or he submitting Prince devoutly pray'd That Heav'n would pardon those that had betraid His body to the grave as from his soul He had forgave them all and did condole Their sad conditions having spent his breath He yeelded like a Lamb unto his death Much more he utterd but my burthen'd Quill Recoils and will not prosecute my will My Pen and I must now abrubtly part Pardon oh Reader for love bindes my heart With chains of sorrow let me crave what I Shall want in Language that thou wilt supply In Meditation But before I let My Quill desert my hand I 'le make it set This Tragi comick period to my story Charles liv'd in trouble and he dy'd in glory FINIS Habakkuk chap. 1 ver 13 Thou art of purer eys O God then to behold evil and canst not look on iniquity Wherefore lookest thou upon them that deal treacherously and holdest thy tongue when the wicked devoureth the man that is more righteous then they AN EPITAPH Vpon Caines having kill'd their Abel lay'd Him underneath whom they betray'd And forc'd to death Kind Reader know Religion was his overthrow Lament lament this fatall losse England never had a Crosse So Great as This Let every Eye Keep teares to weep his Elegie I may presume to say a Tombe Never had a richer wombe Goe not till your sorrowes have Offered teares unto his grave Faile not to spend some reall groanes Except your hearts are turn'd to stones Now methinkes his ashes cryes Guiltlesse blood 's a Sacrifice London lately lost her heart And is sicke in every part Nothing could appease but bloud Death took her King and left a flood FINIS AN ELEGY UPON The Right Honorable the LORD CAPELL Baron of Hadham Who was beheaded at Westminster for maintaining the ancient and fundamentall Lawes of the Kingdome of ENGLAND March the 9. 1648. Heu●jrc●t aut fuctis vivat ubique suis DIsturbe me not my thoughts are mounting high To build a Nest for Capells memory Fool that I am I doe not meane a Nest No nor a Kingdome neither that 's the least Of all my thoughts It is a world that shall Be rul'd by Capells eccho

hollow all Ye sacred Muses and conspire to bring Matterialls to this worke and learne to sing For should ye weep your eyes might undertake To drown that world which I intend to make Forbeare your teares are uselesse you must now Gaze upon death with an undaunted brow Capell has taught us how to entertaine The palled looks of Mars by him we gaine The art of dying and from him we have The diffinition of a Noble Grave Rare soul I say thy ever active Fame Shall build a world upon thy pregnant name And every Letter of thy Name shall raise A spacious kingdom where thy ample praise Shall be recorded every hearkning eare Shall prove Ambitious and admire to heare 'T will be a glory when the world shall say 'T was bravely done his Soveraigne lead the way And he as valiant Souldiers ought to doe March'd boldly after and was alwayes true To sacred Majesty his Noble breath Disdain'd the fear of a Tyrannick death Death added life unto his thoughts for he Contemn'd a life if bought with infamy The very birds shall learne to prate and sing How Capell suffered for his Royall King Rouze then ye stupid sons of Morpheus Let This shining Sun of English valour set And rise within your horizons your hearts I mean and teach you how to sing in parts The Anthems of his worth Oh understand That this was he whose death hath fill'd the land With living sorrow this was he whose glory Shall lend the world an everlasting story You lust-obeying Tarquins that permit And tolerate your pleasures to commit Adulterated actions and command England our poor Lucretia to stand Subject to our libidinous desires And cannot help her self heav'n grant your fires May soone expire that at the last we may Like Tarquins see you banish'd quite away Say will your hung'ry appetites receive No satisfaction have you vow'd to leave No Noble blood Alasse how can your meek And tender consciences thus roar and seek Like greedy Lyons senting up and downe To find your prey in every Royall Towne Where is that zeale which was in former times A golden pretext to your drossy crimes Doe you not thinke of heav'n have ye forgot There is a God or will ye own him not Where is Religion your upholder fled What is that murther'd too or have ye spread A vaile upon her that she may not be Observ'd or own'd but in necessitie Has not Religion all this while maintain'd Your unjust cause what mony 's ye have gain'd Was for Religions sake which still supplyd Your wants but now ye 're full that 's lay'd Vnhappy is that land whose people braggs That they have put Religion up in baggs Money precedes Religion now but stay Precipitating quil I 've lost my way Nay and my subject too how came my minde Thus much to deviate oh where shall I finde My former subject shall my thoughts object His memory and own him with Neglect No no they shall not come my Muse repose Let 's think upon your Friend and let our foes Remember us Capell thy worth shall fill The black mouth'd concave of my mourning quil He was a Pompie but receiv'd his harme From Tyrants not from Caesars noble arme He had an Army in his minde could call Vertue to be their bold fac'd General He had no Pride no Faction to create Or nurse division in his peacefull State He had a Court of Justice in his breast But not to tyrannize to make inquest After the sons of Loyalty or bring Illegall Judgements to their legal King He had a heart that never us'd to hide The heate of envie or the flames of Pride He had a Conscience never us'd t' exact Upon a widdowed Kingdome or extract The treasures of a Nation to defray His own desires he never us'd to play The Devil in the habit of a Saint Or teach his Agitators how to paint A vice with pleasing colours or prepare His ready eyes to shed a zealous teare With a false heart he never striv'd to please And turn the Peoples hearts with Peters-Keyes And to conclude he never would desire Other mens fuels to maintain his fire Now Reader thou hast heard he had a minde Not morgag'd unto basenesse but inclin'd To honorable actions It was he That was the Embleme of true Charitie Yet some unworthy Spirit have exprest He was a son of Rome because his breast Was fill'd with pitty and would still relieve The Poor whose wants instructed him to grieve False are those base reports he was a man Always reputed a great Puritan And not a Papist and he had a care To have that hated Book of Common prayer Read to his Family himself would joyn His aid to any thing that was Divine The Church did seldom fail to entertain His Hoble self and his domestique traine Until this blessed Reformation spread It self abroad and struck Religion dead And then indeed his Conscience would refuse To let him hear some Rabshekah abuse His Gods Anointed and his reall heart Could not endure to hear time-servers dart Arrows of envie at his King and raile Aginst his Consort lab'ring to intaile Disgrace upon their names and fill the earth With heapes of errours and rebellious mirth These things his heart abhorr'd he could not hear His King abused with a patient ear He was the soul of Loyalty his minde Was alwayes active for he still inclin'd His thoughts to goodnesse striving how to bring Peace to his Country honour to his King He was a man that always us'd to fly Upon the wings of true sollidity He was compleat and rich in every part His tongue was never traytor to his heart But now ah now I shall make death too proud To speak it he hath lately left this cloud This world of envy and is gon t' inherit Those joyes which wait upon a noble Spirit Now now hee 's gon to heav'ns sublimer court Where Justice lives a place were false report Shall find no eare a place where none shall dye For being rich or wise their Loyalty Shall be respected there the weeping eyes Of Orphans shall be pitied there the cries Of Ladies pleading for their Lords shall finde A full respect where Vertue is refinde There must be happinesse oh think but where It is kinde Reader and brave Capels there There there he rests who stoutly trode the stage Of blood whose life whose death no age Will ever paralel his courage gave A life to death and pleasure to a grave He had a pleasing countenance his face Did seem to blush but 't was for their disgrace And not his guilt he hever seem'd t' expresse The least of fear but hasted to addresse Himself to heav'n and like a Stagge he bay'd At his unsatisfied hounds and lay'd His use before them and contemn'd their power Because he knew they only could devour His little world but for his soul that went Before a more consciencious Paliament Where now he rests in peacefulness and doubles His pleasures whilest