Selected quad for the lemma: land_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
land_n	great_a	keep_v	king_n	2,594	5	3.5237	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A55245	A Poem on that execrable treason plotted by the papists on the 5th of November, anno 1605		1670 (1670)	Wing P2685; ESTC R26890	5,500	16

such blind worship did adore Yet to this whore Nations drink off Cyrcaean cups and feast Turning from heaven to her and so from man to beast Thus she came forth but all the way Trampled on Emperours necks that groaning lay Hating her now as they before did day On still she came but with a pride That yielded nor to Lucifer's or any one beside For this a man may tell She that would rival heaven would never yield to hell Then bowing with disdain thus spoke Great Monarch to whom earth doth homage do Air sea men and mens souls too 'T is true we vex in vain and this beleeve Both you and I have equal cause to grieve That Isle before drunk with my poyson'd wine At once shakes off your yoke and mine A new born light dispels the clouds And with them our Religion that shrouds Her self in ignorance they see And seeing hate and hating sly Our plots and damned treachery Our Masques took off we can no more Deceive their senses as before Hypocrisie no longer takes Our Machiavilian Plots we draw So subt'ly out their fineness makes them break In vain we strive to keep the world in awe In vain we like Chamelions change To th' colour of all objects where we range For spight of envy we I fear Must like Chamelions too go live on air Come then our forces le ts unite And though our projects fail let not our spight My wrangling Jesuite shall sowe Sedition strife and whatsoe're May a full harvest bear Of murder rapine theft and woe Well well I 've a new project and as high As would not ill become a Deity And since heaven will not help me hell I scorn to kill a King 't is base and low Nor fits it my brave soul I 'le at one blow King and his Nobles mow But not the manner how the quickest sighted know I 'le God-like make the Sun stand still amaz'd As once when at it Israel gaz'd Old fearfull Grandame earth shall quake and flit As troubled with an ague fit Oh how I 'le laugh to see their members fly As though they fought against the Deity In heavens own face those that did scorn to move In lower then in higher orbes shall rove I 'le blow them up to heaven but this I 'le tell My comfort they with you and me shall backward fall to hell Heavens self shall think we ope'd his door And stole from thence his chiefest power His wide-mouth'd thunder that even he shall fear Lest I should him with his own weapons tear That Hydra that we never yet could mow But for one head cut off there sprang up two I 'le cut the snake in parts so small That he shall ne're again together crawl Help help ye fiends from you and from the fire I must require A means on this damn'd crue to wreak mine ire 'T is thus under that stately frame * West minster Adorn'd with Trophies of still living fame In caverns deep that one might swear They with your Kingdom correspondence bear In these instead of wine I 'le thrust Hells sooty dust That must Not onely hells colour but forces wear And when the King and Nobles all shall meet And he shall them with hony'd phrases greet And when he shall Perhaps invectively against us fall I 'le snatch a brand from hell made of the bones Of some old Papist and at once Blow up three Kingdoms into nought and send Their King to hell his half-spoke speech to end This breach once made my Furie's all Cloyster'd before I 'le soon disband And turn them on th' already conquer'd land And with unheard of tortures on them fall Unto three Furies Poets give a birth I 'le be the fourth on earth Heark heark methinks I hear Some pleasant Musick strike mine ear Better then whatsoe're Harmonious sounds the deafned world counts dear Oh? 't is the far-fetch'd grones of those Whose haughty spirits scorn'd our yoak And must be broke By tortures and by blows 5 This said the spirits all by a dumb Rhetorick show By silence they do of the Plot allow Yet they though nurs'd in blood And i' th' profession long had stood ' Sham'd to be beat in their own art they would Have blush'd if through their black they could Yet struck they were with horrour at the first But strait the thirst Of sweet revenge these new bred fears did burst Oh! how their breasts do glow With thoughts of this revenge a Century of years In hell but the Epitome appears Of one small minute now And sure some juster Nemesis had sent Onely there thoughts for punishment For hells great pain Is nothing to what they in expectation do sustain Impatient out they fly and fill the earth With stranger Monsters then e're took a birth In slimy Egypt and for fear some eye Should them and their Plot too espy They turn not Asses in Lyons but Lyons in an Asses skin For well they know Asses go free When Foxes oft suspected be Turn'd to a Jesuite here 's one That vaunts with strength of words And not of swords He can plant Romes Religion And 't is not strange Rome can so subtly plead When that old Sophister's their head No wonder that Imposter triumphs thus We are the sons of Eve And he that could deceive Our mother quickly conquers us An apple tempted her but we Are catch'd with shades and empty Pageantry Mean while hells fiends work in their cell A man might safely call it hell Hating as did their Plot the light Keeping from mens and so they thought from Gods own sight And 't is a wonder he that once durst vie With God himself for principality Should force his pride to stoop so low As in mans shape to go But hence you see what envy's self can do England mean while was lull'd asleep While her grand enemy did centry keep But watchfull heaven still in their actions pries And never shuts her Galaxy of eyes England i' th' midst of day was in a night Wandring without a light England was turn'd a floating Isle And in a sea of misery did toyl Wandring from 's knowledge far Without or sight of compass or of Star When strait me thought a ray Descends from heaven and reduces day And at one blessed sight Brings them and that damn'd Plot to light England was even Sinking in woe when strait an hand from heaven It did and still does it from sinking keep And me thought at once it rose from woe and I from sleep Awak'd I found my breast Grief gone with an unknown joy opprest When my too swelling joy t' asswage Raptur'd with a Poetick rage I burst out in these words Oh! happy Isle That can like kingdoms rule stern fate That can outbrave whate're Palsie strikes others with a Pannick fear That one may stile Without a wild Hyperbole thee th' onely Fortunate See smiling peace wars horrour gone Doth crown our rightly named Albion No Tragedies appall the eye with fear No thunder-imitating noise the ear The happy natives know not war Onely from far They hear it nam'd perhaps pure Halcion days Attends their blessed lives that canker care Corrodes not their blest peace but free as air They chant their lays Each field is pure Elizian earth doth seem To rivall heaven and show At once what all past ages e're did know That one would deem England her beautie 's Magazine where lie Oppos'd to th' ravish'd eye Her sweets contracted in one point that Jove Seems with the earth in love And as to Danae powr'd Not gold but flowrs yet whatsoe're This Letcher seems by this t' infer She is a virgin pure not yet deflowr'd O land thrice happy in thy blessed guide That at full tide Of blood and woe did steer thy wandring course And break thy greatest tempests force Thou sit'st above while winds do storm thy fort And they that once thy terrour were do now become thy sport Peace doth not hover o're Our no longer tempestuous shore But take her seat scattering her joyes amain That one might swear she had brought the golden days again And may'st thou still blest Land embalm'd in peace Securely sit Queen Regent of the Seas And may thy wooden castles all about Keep sweet peace in and enemies out And may'st thou be In a true sence called Great Britanny And may thy glorious King loaden with praise More then with years when Fate shall end his days But may 't be long first lay his down As in exchange for a celestial Crown FINIS