Selected quad for the lemma: water_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
water_n	air_n	element_n	fire_n	13,062	5	7.1789	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A13479	The nipping and snipping of abuses: or The woolgathering of vvitte With the Muses Taylor, brought from Parnassus by land, with a paire of oares wherein are aboue a hundred seuerall garments of diuers fashions, made by nature, without the helpe of art, and a proclamation from hell in the Deuils name, concerning the propogation, and excessiue vse of tobacco. By Iohn Taylor.	Taylor, John, 1580-1653.	1614 (1614)	STC 23779; ESTC S118233	39,316	104

friend I. P. Musophily To my good friend and fellow Iohn Taylor ON land thy water workes with more praise floates Then Standgate castle or Thames flaming boates More fitter for the presse puld from thy oare Then many which may brag of learning store If Coriat or his Crew thy worth doe blemmish The care is taken all Incumbe Remis Hold on thy way though others first shall plie me Th' art my first man though last I chance to spy thee Thy true friend Cornwallis Blague To the Pegasian Taylor LOe heere the Tayler of Parnassus spring Whose offall shreads doe proue quaint well made verses Whose pen dismist straite doth the bottles bring From Bacchus fuming pipes to fill Tower Teirces Who Sculd the Muses brauely or'e the flood And since that time hath for a Poet stood Thine Edmund Blague To the humidious Poet and my very friend Iohn Taylor THe Poets old with much head breaking paine Did learne of others to compose a verse But Iohn thy studdy neuer broke thy braine Yet canst in meeter many Acts rehearse And when thy hand doth tug the heauy oare Thou canst speake verses neuer spoke before Nought comes amisse for now thou tak'st delight In bitter Satyres to explaine thy minde Then tragicke like describst a bloody fight And straight all mery art to mirth inclinde Of all thou makst a harmony sometimes To please the inclination of the times Then spight of each calumnions critticks coller No Sculler euer came so neere a scholler Thine as thou wouldest wish Samuel King In Laudem Authoris WEll mightst thou wonder Taylor that I praise Thy home bred Muse since in these crittick daies It is a Maxim that who er'e is knowne To giue to others worth leaues himselfe none Did not I see how much adultrous art Paints out the face of poesie for the mart Of outside stages who can from 's loose pen Shake inke at whores and country gentlemen Can make a souldier vtter treason curse And Ladies whine speake as new come from nurse Who can with this and an opinion'd fame A hungry pention purchase weares the Name Of Poet when his idle pate hath nought To speake his art but that t is deerely bought And yet cheape too should we but weigh the paine And selfe felt guilt of his translating veine When I on both looke by Apollo's fire I laugh at him and thee I doe admire Thou ow'st thine owne begettings which by thee Are made not fashiond such should Poets be Such were the antient Bards and Druids songs Who vsed their owne language their owne tongues Where Nature vnto me seemes Art to passe As much as Diamonds doe a painted glasse For if who best translates a Poet were We might haue more then one borne in a yeere And I haue liu'd an age and nere saw two So much vnbought vnborow'd yet could show As I haue read from thee what wouldst thou more Ther 's many weares the Bayes deserues thy oare Thy friend Robert Daborne To his friend Iohn Taylor GOe friend let loase thy lines and measure out The length and breadth of vice it was a doubt Thou only wert for a mans Taylor sit When thou didst through thy measures wast thy wit On wit-lesse Coriat but from henceforth The Lawrell Synod shall allow thy worth With more addicions for all may see Thou likewise maist a womans Taylor bee Thou canst with Satyres their streight bodies wring And loose their skirts againe with sonnetting Goe on and from me take a kinde good speed With this prouiso vnto those shall read Let there no Botcher that yet wants his trade Dive to finde fault with that a Taylor made Will Rowley To his deere friend Master Iohn Taylor ME thinkes I see the Sculler in his boate With goodly motion glide along faire Thames And with a charming and bewrehing noate So sweet delightfull tunes and ditties frames As greatest Lordings and the nicest Dames That with attentiue care did heare thy layes Of force should yeeld due merit to thy praise Worth to all Water-men straine forth thy voice To proue so pleasing in the worlds proud eye As eyes and eares and hearts may all reioyce To see heare muse vpon the melodie In contemplation of thy harmony Let Thames faire banckes thy worth and praises ring While I thy worth and praise beyond seasing Tho. Gent. To the Water-Poet Iohn Taylor HOnest Iohn Taylor though I know 't no grace To thee or me for writing in this place Yet know I that the multitudes of friends Will thee protect from vile malignant mindes The rather cause what euer thou hast showes Is no one mans inuention but thine owne Malitious minded men will thee despraise Enuy debases all her selfe to raise Then rest content whilst to thy greater fame Both Art and Nature shrine to raise thy name Thine euer as thou knowest R Cadner To honest Iack Taylor FRiend Taylor thou hast here this glory won Tha 'st made a coate Vrania may put on I doe applau'd thy quick ingenious spirit And may thy fortune counteruaile thy merit Which if it doe thy worth I will not flatter Thou neuer more shalt toyle vpon the water Thine as the rest of thy friends William Bubb. To his louing friend Iohn Taylor BEloued friends words mend not much the matter Nor morre the market of thy nat'rall wit They are but Pyes and like to Pyes doe chatter That fault thy acte and so would bemish it For what is Arte but imitation Ty'de vnto rules as such and such haue taught And what those rules but approbation Of that which Nature first in others wrought From Nature then it was they tooke their light The Proto-Poets all and sung their Rhymes And why shall we deny our age like right When Nature is the same with former Tynees No no but since she sendeth forth faire rayes In thy borne-Muse weare thou with all her Bayes Fr Conniers To my friend Iohn Taylor IF Homers verse in Greeke did merrit praise If Naso in the Lattin won the Bayes If Maro mongst the Romanes did exell If Tasso in the Tuscan tongue wrote well Then Taylor I conclude that thou hast don In English what immortall Baies hath won Thy friend Iohn Tap. Tho Bretnor in commendation of the Author THat none are Artists but Academiques T were vaine to thinke and idle to maintaine Sith Nature's free and tide to no such trickes As fostred are among the learned traine The homely Pesant and the country Kerne Haue often better wits then those that learne And for thy selfe there is no Poet writes With words or figures more adornd with Art Thy lines are stuffed with learned Epithites Such sweet conceits thy pleasing Muse doth dart That thou seemest wrapt into the highest ayres When thou but speakest of celestiall Spheares Then cease not Taylor garments more to shape Of this proiection or diuiner matter Le ts haue another suite of finest drape And bury not thy talent in the water That element's cold but thou art all on

fire Go on go on and we will still admire Thine Tho Bretnor To my honest friend Iohn Taylor THy Taylors sheares foule vices wings hath clipt The seames of impious dealings are vnript So Art-like thou these captoius times hast quipt As if in Hellicon thy pen were dipt All those who gainst thy worth are Enuious lipt Thy sharpe Satyrick Muse hath nipt and snipt And to conclude thy'nuention is not chipt Or stolne or borowd begd or basely gript Then Taylor thy conceits are truely sowde And Sculler on my word it was well rowde Thine to my best power Enoch Lynde To him I loue yet neuer knew TO praise thee without knowledge were dispraise I know thy Wit in that thy selfe I raise Thy ful fetcht-strokes so wafts me o're the Strand Of deepe Conceit as bids me vnderstands That neuer Taylor shapt for such small price A Robe so couert which uncouers Vice Thy true friend Iohn Handson In Landem Authoris MOst commonly one Taylor will dispraise Anothers workmanship enuying alwaies At him that 's better then himselfe reputed Though he himselfe be but a botcher bruted So might it well be said of me my friend Should I not to thy worke some few lines lend Which to make probable this sentence tendeth Who not commends he surely discommendeth In my illiterate censure these thy rimes Deserue applause euen in these worst of times When wit is onely worthy held in those On whom smooth flattery vaine praise bestowes But I not minding with thy worth to flatter Doe know thy wit to good too toyle by water Rob Taylor To my friend Iohn Taylor THis worke of thine thou hast compilde so well It merits better wits thy worth to tell Thine Maximilian Waad To my kind friend IOHN TAILOR FYe Momus cryes what franticke fit hath firde The Pelting Sculler thus to play the Poet As if he were with Homers spirit inspir'de Cease Critticke cease and I will let thee know it The honest Sculler seeking for a fare Did meete the Muses in an eu'ning late And finding them dispos'd to take the ayre Such sollace gaue them with his Rusticke prate As there in guerdon of his homebred sport It was decreed by all the Sisters nine He should receive since other meanes was short A brimfull bowle of Heliconian Wine Since when from him such sweet conceits doth flow As merits all the praise thou canst bestow Againe IOhn Taylor heere I gladly would commend thee And wish my note exceeded Ela's straine Or that my Verse could equali Virgils vaine Which might from Momus carping brood defend thee Yet as I can I will this Reader tell I know no Sculler euer writ so well Thy friend Richard Leigh To my true friend Iohn Tailor AMongst the best that Britaine now doth beare Grac'd by Apollo and the Nimphs diuine Swolne with the Raptures of their great Ingine I thinke that fewe or none to thee comes neere They want the tru-true tutch stone of the eare Besides thy makings all are meerely thine Thou stealst no Chore not Scene nor page nor line If they doe so their workes can witnesse beare Then iustly Iacke I doe thee most esteeme Nor art thou alwaies ignorant of Art For Nature so in thee doth play her part As prodigall not lib'rall shee doth seeme Whilest thou her Champion to thy greater grace Mak'st Art to Nature euen in Art giue place Thine as I liue Iohn Moraye The Authors thanks to all those that haue written in his Commendations RIght worthy and my welbeloued friends My loue and seruice shall be all your debters A Beggers thankes is all the best Amends And in that paiment you shall all be getters For words are cheape and this my Booke affoords Your owne with double intrest words for words Yours I. T. To all in generall on whose names I haue Anagrammatized MAiesticke Sol whose eye Eclipsing Raies Shine with admired splendor or'e this land And all you Mercuries of Mars his band Whose words and swords your temples crownes with baies Your pardons grant me if I haue transgrest If you forgiue I le deale with all the rest Euer at Command in all humble seruice Iohn Tailor The Authors description of a Poet and Poesie with an Apollogie in defence of Naturall English Poetrie SHall Beggers diue into the Acts of Kings Shall Nature speake of supernat'rall things Shall Egles flights atempted be by Gnatts Shall mighty Whales be portraied out by Sprate These things I know vnpossible to be And it is as vnpossible for me That am a begger in these Kingly acts Which from the Heau'ns true Poetry extracts A supernat'rall foole by Nature I That neuer knew this high borne mystery A worthlesse gnat I know my selfe more weake Yet of the Princely Egle dare to speake A silly sprat the Ocean seekes to sound To seeke this Whale though seeking he be drown'd Then to proceed a Poets Art I know Is not compact of earthly things below Nor is of any base substantiall mettle That in the worlds rotundity doth settle But t is immortall and it hath proceeding From whence diuinest soules haue all their breeding It is a blessing heau'n hath sent to men By men it is diuulged with their pen And by that propogation it is knowne And ouer all the world disperst and throwne In verball elocution so refinde That it to Vertue animates mans mindes The blessed singer of blest Israel In this rare Art he rarely did exell He sweetely Poetyz'd in Heau'nly verses Such lines which aye eternity rehearses What Reuerend rate and glorious great esteeme Augustus Caesar did a Poet deeme Admired Virgils life doth plainely show That all the world a Poets worth may know But leauing Israels King and Romane Caesar Let 's seeke in England English Poets treasure Sir Phillip Sidney his times Mars and Muse That word and sword so worthily could vse That spight of death his Glory liu's alwaies For Conquests and for Poesie crown'd with bayes What famous men liu's in this age of ours As if the Sisters nine had left their bowres With more post hast then expeditious wings They here haue found the Helliconian springs We of our mighty Monarch IAMES may boast Who in this heau'nly Art exceeds the most Where men may see the Muses wisdome well When such a Glorious house they chose to dwell The Preacher whose instructions doth afford The soules deere food the euerliuing word If Poets skill be banisht from his braine His preaching sometimes will be but too plaine Twixt Poetry and best Diuinity There is such neere and deere affinity As t' were propinquity of brothers blood That without tone the other 's not so good The man that takes in hand braue verse to write And in Diuinity hath no insight He may perhaps make smoothe and Art-like Rimes To please the humors of these idle times But name of Poet he shal neuer merrit Thogh writing them he waste his very spirit They therefore much mistake that seeme to say How euery one that writes a