Selected quad for the lemma: love_n
Text snippets containing the quad
|
ID |
Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
Words |
Pages |
|
A41266
|
St. Leonard's hill a poem / written by R.F.
|
Fage, Robert.
|
1666
(1666)
|
Wing F85; ESTC R40572
|
9,517
|
25
|
were Innocent I wish that I could say our Lives were so And that our Actions did less Guilty show Then looking up to Heaven from the Ground Thus would I say he might us all confound In less than moments time who sits above Were not his Mighty power control'd by Love But if provok'd by Sinners he doth show That power although in Anger he is slow He makes whole Nations then submit to Fate Leaving their greatest Cities desolate Either by Famine Sword or Pestilence The dreadful Instruments of his Vengeance And if it were not for his Goodness sake He would in peeces that proud City shake For there are all Varieties of Sin Some raign without the Walls and some within And though that true Religion preach them down Yet she could never drive them out of Town There Vice and Virtue in extreams are set There Atheism and true Piety are met There cries and horrid noise your Temples tear And there soft Musick sweetly Charms your Ear All this great Heap then let your Eyes run over Nothing but Smoak and Dust you will discover Which the wind drives away I know not whither O come Democritus let 's laugh together Only old Pauls sometimes his Bald-Pate shows Hoping those deep wounds and those deadly blows Which our New Sanctity to his Old sides gave Will all be cur'd and he preserv'd from Grave And stand a glorious Monument again Of Charles the Great and 's Second happy Reign And to succeeding Ages shall declare VVhat Rebels did pull down King Charles did rear Now this Way turn and see through yonder glade VVhat Reformation our late Saints have made In that Great Park whose Trees are all cut down By the same Powers that trampl'd on the Crown And which did then o'rethrow our Church State These innocent Trees endur'd the same hard fate There stood that Old and stately Royal Oak VVho for five hundred years endur'd the stroak Of Times sharp teeth but Zeal more sharp did say To my dear Sons it now must fall a Prey Down with it Root and Branch a Zealot cries As that Malignant falls the Saints shall rise Down with them all and those on t'other side Th' are in our way and do Heavens prospect hide Could you no other way to Heaven finde Deceitful Hypocrites and Leaders blinde But through forbidden Paths and unjust waies VVhich were not known in our fore-fathers daies Surely quoth Zeal we have the wicked vext By opening a dark place to clear the Text The Text is clear indeed and ye have found VVhose Fate is to be Hang'd shall not be Drown'd But would you now those Royal Mansions see Built only for the Seat of Majesty VVhere Art and Nature like two Rivals strove Which of them both should shew their greatest love View that high Castle and the Church behold VVhich doth St. George for her great Patron hold How like an Empress she alone Commands The Lower Vallies and the adjoyning Lands View well her battlements and her towers agen To satisfie my doubt pray tell me then VVhat a strong breath the Rump had that could blow Down to the ground that Church and Castle too And with one Vote they both had tumbled down Following the Fate of Scepter and of Crown To the great shame of our unhappy Age Had not good Providence stopt their damned rage Now may your stately Towers securely stand Nor dread the fury of a Rebels hand Now may your Sacred and Harmonious Quire Te Deum sing and so with praise admire How Providence preserv'd you from those Men Of wicked theeves who made Gods house a Den. But on the day that Martyr'd Charles did Dye Let all in Sorrow kneel or prostrate lye Then let no Organ play or Musick rise But from a Contrite Heart and VVeeping Eyes And passing over his cold Vault let all Tread softly and a Tear or two let fall But Heavens forbid that e're you should again Become a Prison to your Soveraign Though once it was your glory not your shame VVhen two great Kings of famous Name Were made your Prisoners in a narrow Room And from the Conquerour did attend their doom Then English Valour to it's heighth was come Victory they had abroad and peace at home And then their naked swords they did not show Against their Soveraign but the common Foe Then was that Noble Azure Garter found So much by Ours and Forraign Kings Renown'd Who with Ambition strove to be instal'd And Knights of that Heroick Order call'd And without boasting I may boldly say Since the first institution to this day More famous Men the world hath never seen Than they who in succeeding times have been Companions of that Sacred Order made Whose Names shall live though their cold Ashes fade Whether 't were Honour or the power of Love That did thy royal Heart Great Edward move This Noble Order for to Institute Let Learned Men and Graver Heads dispute I for my part do easily suppose That both thy Genius did alike dispose And if'twere Honour that devis'd the Plot I do beleeve 't was Love that ty'd the Knot But whatsoe're it 't was this we do know Nothing but Great could from thy Greatness flow And by thy Prowess France I me sure did finde Great was thy Sword but greater was thy Minde Which to their terrour such vast wonders did As can no more than the Sun's Beams be hid Nor shall the Deeds of thy brave Off-spring dye VVhil'st time doth last or name of Victory He surely fell who with thee did contend Black to thy Foe but lovely to thy Friend Had'st thou the Age of thy Old Father seen King of all Nations doubtless thou hadst been But Fate did think which all things does controle This world too little was for thy great Soul Nor do we wonder that thou shouldst be so Because the Stock from whence you came we know Bellona was thy Mother Mars thy Sire VVho can derive himself from Parents higher The next great thing that to your Eye appears Is the best Nursery to tender years Of Piety and Learning which our Land can show Blest is that Holy King who made it so Nor did his Royal Goodness only there In Acts of Grace and Piety appear For he at Cambridge also did erect Another Monument whose Architect The Name doth show if not to his great praise The Stones would say a King this Roof did raise Thither her hopeful Youth doth AEton send To advance in Learning and their knowledge mend And raised by degrees themselves translate Fit Instruments for the Church or for the State So we from Nurseries do young Plants remove To better Soyle when they are grown above Their Fellows heads and proudly do aspire To raise themselves yet many stories higher And though the Brittish Prophesies of Old That Harry born at Windsor have fore-told Should lose what Monmouth Harry did obtain And with such personal Valour bravely gain Yet he hath left though frowning
St. LEONARD'S HILL A Poem Written by R. F. Gent. Licensed May the 14th 1666. Roger L'Estrange LONDON Printed for Iohn Simms at the Cross-keyes in Cornhil near the Royal Exchange 1666. St. Leonard's Hill WHat if Apollo and the Muses now Should with an angry nod and frowning brow Chide me for boldly thus daring to write Before they gave me leave or did invite To taste of Hellicons inspiring streams Although perhaps not half so clear as Thames Or cause I put not on considering Cap And upon their Parnassus took a nap Faith let Apollo and his Wenches know it I ne're ambitious was to be a Poet Yet without their good leave I 'le Verses make And from a Nobler Hill my Rise I 'le take Viewing these Aiery Land-skips as I flye More bounded in my Fancy than mine Eye VVell may I then great Hill thy praise rehearse Since you alone give life unto my Verse Come hither all ye Mortals that would be Blest with a taste of Heavens felicity Come I 'le conduct you to that mount above Where you will finde that shall deserve your love And as we go let 's view this Rural Green Here true content with Poverty are seen Here little Lambs after their Mothers bleat Until their mouths are stopped with the Teat Young Colts are here with droves of Heyfers bred Making this Green their Pasture and their Bed Here with her Gulls the reverend Brood-Goose walks And old Sir Gander to the young ones talks Here a small Farm there doth a Cottage stand To which the Owner joyns a little Land Where he doth plant young Trees and if they grow To bear good Fruit the Gods cannot bestow On him or His a greater blessing thinks And chearfully a good health to his Neighbour drinks Living more happy under his thatch't Roof Than they whose splendid Buildings stand a loof For in this poor and solitary Cell Sound health and harmless peace together dwell VVhich blessings are most commonly deny'd To Great Mens houses fill'd with lust and pride Here with the Lamb they close their slumbring eyes And early with the Lark again they rise Unto their Rural labours thus they live Content though poor with what the Fates do give And when at last Death doth his summons send Not sickness but old age does make them bend Now whilst I 'me speaking look the Old man peeps Let 's enter in and see what house he keeps Going then in he soon doth us espy And pulling off his Hat a loud doth cry My Masters all ye are welcome pray draw near Sit down and drink for I have Ale and Beer And sweet Metheglin that 's both blithe and bonny Made of the Best and purest Virgin-Hony Or would you Syder drink or good old Perry Your nose 't will tickle and your heart make merry Old Mother grief sate by the Smoaky Hearth Holding a brown Toast to the burning Turff Then sighing o're a pot of Ale anon Her Sorrow for to break she thus began O Gentlemen my daies are almost done My Sun 's neer set and I my race have run Cheer up thy heart Old woman do not cry Should innocency be afraid to dye Alas I weep because Death comes not yet He to my misery would a period set Mourn all ye Lovers when so e're she dies Of Custards Cheese-cakes and hot Pudding pies For to your sorrow you will quickly finde Her fellow she can never leave behinde Now of each Liquor having had a taste He leads us to his little Plot at last And shew'd us how each tender Plant did grow In rank and file and he their names doth know First stands a file of Pippins next to those Deep ranks of Codlins and John Apples grows Here are Paremains with Gilliflowers good store Which I have quite forgot with many more And here are Pears the best that e're were eat The Catherin red and jucy Burgomat And the well-colour'd Marget with the green Sweet Cheesil here in plenty may be seen But good Old Doctor prethee tell me now What lovely Pear is that on yonder Bow For 't is a Fruit I have not seen before That 's all I have Sir but I hope for more 'T will make your mouth to water when 't is nam'd To tell us then I hope you 're not asham'd No truly Master I 'le be plain and Bold 'T is call'd my Ladies Buttock I am told Now Husband you are wanton pray Wife why Here 's my young Master knows as well as I And better too that 't is it's proper Name A pleasant fruit and now in greatest fame But here 's the Windsor Pear which I dare say Deserves from all to bear the Bell away All sorts of Plums are here and Quinces fair And Apricocks that most beloved are Here 's Flemish Cherries here are Spanish Vines With Peaches sweet and Roman Nectarines Here 's the Bonchretien and the Bingfill too With other Fruits not to be reckoned now Then what reward pray tell me can there be Too great for this Mans active industry Who with his Labour and his old blunt Spade In Barren ground such Nurseries hath made Having this plain and pleasant Green o're past The great Hills top now we have reach't at last Nor are we far from Old St. Leonard's Cave Whose pious life the Name of this place gave And now look down upon the world below Then see how faint and little all things show Look a far off where that great City stands Who by it's riches all the world commands And whose great Ships bring Spices from the East To enrich our Land and Ingots from the West Whose Noble Buildings stand in every street Where swarms and shoales of people daily meet Thronging so thick together as they go That they do one another overthrow And all in haste so full of Business move To little purpose though it often prove Some strive to gain others consume as fast What the Old Sire gain'd his young heir turns to waste A lively Emblem of this populous Crowd How often have I seen my Self to shrowd From scorching Beams when I have Musing stood Under a spreading Beech in shady Wood For I have seen great heaps of Emmets there Who in such numerous Crowds so stirring were And all so busie that a man would say Their Work was by the Great not by the Day Some loaded this way others that way went Some were for Straw and some for Timber sent Here in a broad High way which they had made For fear that Robbers should their Wealth invade They seem'd with Guards of Carravans to go And boldly Marching did not fear the Foe But with my foot how many have I kill'd And in a moment all that they did build Have quite thrown down and taken all their spoil Which they had purchased with so much toyle And with such care and industry did gain Their Commonwealth in Winter to maintain Poor Souls forgive me I do now repent Your Actions I confess