Fisher, Jasper · published 1633 · first performed or written 1625 [c.1611-1633] (Annals) history · at University unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 485 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
As in the vaults of this big-bellied earth, Are dungeons, whips, and flames, for wicked Ghosts; So fair Elysian fields; where spotless souls Do bathe themselves in bliss. Among the rest, Two pleasant Groves by two sorts are possessed: One by true Lovers crowned with myrtle boughs, Who hand in hand sing Paeans of their joy: Brave Soldiers hold the second, clad in steel, Whose glittering Arms brighten those gloomy shades, In lieu of Starry lights. From hence I bring A pair of Martial Imps, By Ioues decree, As sticklers in their Nations enmity. Furious Camillus, and thou Britain bold Great Brennus, sheath your conquering blades: In vain You threaten death: For Ghosts may not be slain. From the unbounded Ocean, and cold climes, Where Charles his wain circles the Northern Pole: I first lead out great swarms of shaggy Gaules, And big-boned Britain's. The white-pated Alps, Where snow and winter dwell, did bow their necks To our victorious feet: Rome, proudest Rome, We clothed in scarlet of patrician blood, And 'bout your Capitol pranced our vaunting steeds, Defended more by Geese, than by your gods. But I cut short your fury, and my sword Redeemed the City, making your huge vast trunks To fat our Crows, and dung our Latian fields: I turned your Torrent to another Coast: And what you quickly won, you sooner lost. Leave these weak brawlings. Now swift time hath spent A Pylian age, and more, since you two breathed, Mirrors of Britain, and of Roman valour. lo, now the black Imperial Bird doth clasp Under her wings the Continent, and Mars Trampling down nations with his brazen wheels, Fights for his Nephews, and hath once more made Britain's and Romans meet. To view these deeds I Hermes bring you to this upper sky; Where you may wander, and with ghastly looks Incite your Countrymen, when night and sleep Conquer the eyes, when weary body's rest, And senses cease: Be Furies in their breast. Never two Nations better matched. For Iove Loves both alike: whence then these armed Bands? Mavors for Rome, Neptune for Albion stands. Then let war ope his jaws, as wide as hell, And fright young babes, my Countryfolk more stern Can outlook Gorgon: Let the Fates transposed Hang beaten Flags up in the victor's land: Full dearly will each Pace of ground be sold, Which rated is at dearest Blood, not Gold. What, are their ruined Fanes, demolished Walls So soon forgot? Doth Allia yet run clear? Or can three hundred Summers slake their fear? Arise thou Iulian Star, whose angry beams Be Heralds to the North, of war, and death. Let those black Calends be revenged; Those Ghosts, (Whose mangled sheaths deprived of Funeral rites, Made the six hills promise a Cadmus crop:) Be expiated with a fiery deluge. Iove rules the Spheres, Rome all the world beside: And shall this little corner be denied?
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
As in the vaults of this big-bellied earth, Are dungeons, whips, and flames, for wicked Ghosts; So faire Elysian fieldes; where spotlesse soules Doe bathe themselues in blisse. Among the rest, Two pleasant Groues by two sorts are possest: One by true Louers crown'd with myrtle boughes, Who hand in hand sing Paeans of their ioy: Braue Souldiers hold the second, clad in steele, Whose glittering Armes brighten those gloomy shades, In lieu of Starry lights. From hence I bring A paire of Martiall Impes, By Ioues decree, As sticklers in their Nations enmity. Furious Camillus, and thou Britaine bold Great Brennus, sheath your conquering blades: In vaine You threaten death: For Ghosts may not be slaine. From the vnbounded Ocean, and cold climes, Where Charles his wayne circles the Northerne Pole: I first lead out great swarmes of shaggy Gaules, And big-bon'd Britaines. The white-pated Alpes, Where snow and winter dwell, did bow their neckes To our victorious feete: Rome, proudest Rome, We cloath'd in skarlet of patrician blood, And 'bout your Capitoll prauns'd our vaunting steedes, Defended more by Geese, than by your gods. But I cut short your fury, and my sword Redeem'd the City, making your huge vast trunkes To fat our Crowes, and dung our Latian fields: I turn'd your Torrent to another Coast: And what you quickly woone, you sooner lost. Leaue these weake brawlings. Now swift time hath spent A Pylian age, and more, since you two breathed, Mirrours of Britaine, and of Roman valour. Loe, now the blacke Emperiall Bird doth claspe Vnder her winges the Continent, and Mars Trampling downe nations with his brazen wheeles, Fights for his Nephewes, and hath once more made Britaines and Romanes meete. To view these deedes I Hermes bring you to this vpper skie; Where you may wander, and with gastly lookes Incite your Country-men, when night and sleepe Conquer the eyes, when weary bodyes rest, And senses cease: Be Furies in their brest. Neuer two Nations better matcht. For Iove Loues both alike: whence then these armed Bandes? Mavors for Rome, Neptune for Albion stands. Then let warre ope his iawes, as wide as hell, And fright young babes, my Country-folke more sterne Can out-looke Gorgon: Let the Fates transpos'd Hang beaten Flags vp in the victours land: Full dearely will each Pase of ground be sold, Which rated is at deerest Blood, not Gold. What, are their ruin'd Fanes, demolisht Walles So soone forgot? Doth Allia yet runne cleare? Or can three hundred Summers slake their feare? Arise thou Iulian Starre, whose angry beames Be Heraulds to the North, of warre, and death. Let those blacke Calends be reueng'd; Those Ghosts, (Whose mangled sheaths depriv'd of Funerall rites, Made the Sixe hils promise a Cadmus croppe:) Be expiated with a fiery deluge. Iove rules the Spheares, Rome all the world beside: And shall this little corner be denide?