Selected quad for the lemma: land_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
land_n	country_n	day_n	great_a	2,103	5	2.8741	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A09525	Englands Cæsar His Maiesties most royall coronation. Together with the manner of the solemne shewes prepared for the honour of his entry into the cittie of London. Eliza. her coronation in heauen. And Londons sorrow for her visitation. By Henry Petowe.	Petowe, Henry.	1603 (1603)	STC 19806; ESTC S119196	6,573	38

Thamesis Water-nymphes delight So London in her bosome hopes to see Tryumphant IAMES in all his royaltie Oh thou that onely canst forbeare thy rod Of fell correction wee will sinne no more Oh thou eternall Essence onely God Now London feeles thy scourge she doth deplore Her masse of sinne oh she doth weepe at hart Thy visitation doeth in force her weepe She wants her Sou'raigne which procures her smart His sight would lull her in her ioyes a sleepe But thou say'st no for by thy mighty hand What she and hers intended to performe In IAMES his honour thou dost countermaund And mak'st her know that she is but a Worme A Worme that hath her being from thy power And must not dare but stoop when Ioue doth lower And now thou frown'st oh she doth quake for feare Her hands are daily heaued to the skies With impetrations that thou would'st forbeare See how trill teares distill from her moyst eies How can a Mother choose but euer weepe When as her children loath their natiue bed Her yong ones in her bosome will not sleepe But to a forrayue fosterer are fled Yet like a Mother she doth daily pray Thou would'st not note such disobedience But to be mercifull to them that stray And in their losse to giue her patience She weepes for losse of them which now are gon Thinking thereby to shunne correction But who knowes not thy power is euery where In Cittie Country both on Land and Sea Then do we think thou canst not touch vs there Yes yes t is too apparant euery day But stay great glory of aeternitie Wee doe confesse thy might almightie force Be mercifull to vs in miserie And for thy deare anoynted take remorce Smooth thy deepe furrowed front shriu'led with ire Open thine eares vnto our sad complaints Let vs at last reioyce in our desire And helpe weake London that now helples faints For while thou frown'st alas she feares to die And but to thee she knowes not where to flie Thou mad'st the sore but who can giue the cure Thou gau'st the blowe but who can salue the wound Thou prick'st the hart but who can helpe procure Thou mad'st the bruise but who can make it sound Thou all in all canst salue make sound and cure The sore the blow the wound yea more then this Thy ministring is present helpe t is sure And he that prayes to thee prayes not amisse Deigne then dread Lord from thy high throne of grace Where Angels praise thee with diuinest song To looke on London with a smyling face And breake thy rod which she hath felt too long Then will her friends draw neere and she shall see Her long wisht Soueraigne in his royaltie For him she weepes for IAMES his want she mornes Want of his presence that should guild her streetes For want of him in passion she burnes And from her residence all comfort fleetes Thousands of treasure hath her bounty wasted In honour of her King to welcome him But woe is she that honour is not tasted For royall IAMES on siluer Thames doth swim The Water hath that glory for he glides Vpon the peatly mayne vnto his Crowne And lookes with pittie on London as he rydes Saying alas thou should'st haue this renowne So well he knew that wofull London lou'd him That her distresse vnto compassion mou'd him And from his royall loue thus doth he greete her Before the glancy Isacles of Winter By heat of Sunne be molten he will meet her In all her pompe till when of ioy he 'le stint her Meane time he wils her teach her yong to pray That Heauens almightie may surcease his hand For when he heares of such an happie day He leglad the Chamber of the Fairy Land Then shal her showes and princely ornaments Her famous Pageants Londons solemne pride Be at the ful and surfet with contents Such ioy shall mantle her on euery side Where IAMES shal ride Conduits shal flow with wine In honour of his state and happie time This is the day that should haue fam'd our City But that the hand of God lyes heauy on it All you that know it crie alas t is pitty And pray Iehoua may looke downe vpon it Whose ioyes like shadowes tooke their sudden flight Whose weale is fleeting like deluding sleepe That in an houre mixe sorrow with delight Her paths to ioy is tedious long and steepe Giue period all-almightie to her plaint Vnhappie London wittie in selfe-grieuing Let her now ioy let griefe no longer taynt Her tender hart that makes her woe her liuing Let her now smyle and as she smyleth sing Glory to God and God preserue the King FINIS