Taylor, John · published 1634 · first performed or written 1634 [Oct 29] (Annals) civic play; pageant unassigned nearest T19 Virtue, Fortune and Vice as abstractions · 428 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
I do command her, still with you t'abide, Do you defend her, she shall be your guide: For truth-sake Time shall be your servant still; And in your just commands, obey your will. Time shall transport your Merchandise and wares, Time shall assist you in your great'st affairs: Time shall be always yours Auspiciously, And Time will bring you to Eternity. Her's Hermes, from his Spheres circumferance Hath brought the Poet wit, and Eloquence; And quick Invention, likewise he Inflamed Into the Artists that these pageants framed, That for your future Honour, this may be A day of well Composed Variety Of Speech and show, these Triumphs we present, We hope (as they are meant shall give content) We humbly wish, that you this year may find, Full of true worth as is your worthy mind. By me fair London in obedience shows The service, love, and duty that she owes To this day's Triumph, but my aim is higher, My thankfulness doth up to heaven aspire, Which unto me hath so propitious been, That I do see this day, and now am seen The Queen of Cities, Empress of content, And Princess of unmarched government; Weigh well my state, and think on other states, Thebes is ruined with her hundred Gates; Numantia, Carthage, great Jerusalem, And Babylon, what are become of them? Constantinople doth in sorrow lie, And groan beneath the Turkish tyranny: Rome, and all Cities that hold Rome supreme, Their glory's are eclipsed or but a dream; Whilst fire and sword doth Germany molest, London's secure, with peace and plenty blessed, Turk, Pope, and war, bear here no rule or sway, For I one God, one King, one Law obey; there's my security, and my state doth stand Supported by the unsupported hand, These are the means and instruments whereby We rise to Honour, painful Industry. An Idle Citizen is like a Moth, One spoils b'example tother spoils the Cloth, True Citizens are the true City's sons, The others are but bastards, mad that runs, Like Runagates, or cursed Imps of Cain, And never shall to Honour's seat Attain: Work on my Lads, and you in time may be, Good members of this Honoured Company, And though good Freeman (of this Corporation) Deceased before his half years expiration, Yet Heaven hath soon provided for our good Another worthy of this Brotherhood. And now my Lord, I give myself and mine, To your command and charge, and I divine That as great is the Honour of your seat, Your Government shall be more good than great.
seed 43: T13 · seed 44: T16 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I doe command her, ſtill with you t'abide, Doe you defend her, ſhe ſhall be your guide: For truth-ſake Time ſhall be your ſervant ſtill; And in your juſt commands, obey your will. Time ſhall tranſport your Marchandiſe and wares, Time ſhall aſſiſt you in your great'ſt affaires: Time ſhall be alwaies yours Auſpitiouſly, And Time will bring you to Eternity. Her's Hermes, from his Spheares circumferance Hath brought the Poet wit, and Eloquence; And quick Invention, likewiſe he Inflam'd Into the Artiſts that theſe pageants fram'd, That for your future Honour, this may be A day of well Compoſ'd Variety Of Speach and ſhew, theſe Triumphs we preſent, We hope (as they are meant ſhall give content) We humbly wiſh, that you this yeare may finde, Full of true worth as is your worthy mind. By me faire London in obedience ſhewes The ſervice, love, and duty that ſhe owes To this daies Triumph, but my aime is higher, My thankfulneſſe doth up to heaven aſpire, Which unto me hath ſo propitious beene, That I doe ſee this day, and now am ſeene The Queene of Cities, Empreſſe of content, And Princeſſe of unmarched government; Weigh well my ſtate, and think on other ſtates, Thebes is ruin'd with her hundred Gates; Numantia, Carthage, great Jeruſalem, And Babylon, what are become of them? Conſtantinople doth in ſorrow lye, And groane beneath the Turkiſh tyranny: Rome, and all Cities that hold Rome ſupreme, Their glorie's are eclips'd or but a dreame; Whilſt fire and ſword doth Germany moleſt, London's ſecure, with peace and plenty bleſt, Turke, Pope, and war, beare here no rule or ſway, For I one God, one King, one Law obey; Ther's my ſecurity, and my ſtate doth ſtand Supported by the unſupported hand, Theſe are the meanes and inſtruments whereby We riſe to Honour, painfull Induſtry. An Idle Citizen is like a Moth, One ſpoyles b'example t'oher ſpoyles the Cloth, True Citizens are the true Cities ſonnes, The others are but baſtards, mad that runnes, Like Runnagates, or curſed Imps of Caine, And never ſhall to Honours ſeat Attaine: Worke on my Lads, and you in time may be, Good members of this Honour'd Company, And though good Freeman (of this Corporation) Deceaſ'd before his halfe yeares expiration, Yet Heaven hath ſoone provided for our good Another worthy of this Brother-hood. And now my Lord, I give my ſelfe and mine, To your command and charge, and I divine That as great is the Honour of your ſeat, Your Government ſhall be more good than great.