Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T19: virtue, fortune, virtues, honour, fame, vice, envy, world, pride, great.
Than either you before have done, or he Could ever: having now a true inspection Into each strife, each cause without affection To this or that party: some are said, To have had feathers on their feet and head. (As those whom I late named) you must have more, And in your place be feathered now all o'er: You must have feathers in your thoughts, your eyes, Your hands, your feet; for he that's truly wise Must still be of a winged apprehension As well for execution, as prevention. You know (Right honoured Sir) delays and pauses, In judicature, dull, if not damp, good causes: That we presume t'advise, we pardon crave, It being confessed, all these, and more you have. THis Structure is a Citadel, or Tower, Where Piety, placed in her heavenly bower, Points out the way to bliss, girt with a ring Of all those Graces that may glory bring. Here sits Religion firm, (though else where torn By Schismatics, and made the Atheists scorn) Shining in her pure truth, nor need she quake, Affrighted with the Faggot and the stake: she's to you dear, you unto her are tender, Under the Sceptre of the Faith's defender. How am I extasi'de when I behold You build new Temples, and repair the old! There's not a stone that's laid in such foundation, But is a step degreeing to Salvation: And not a Scaffold reared to that intent, But mounts a Soul above the Firmament: Of Merchants, we know Magistrates are made, And they (of those) most happy that so Trade. Your Virgin-Saint sits next Religion crowned, With her own Handmaids (see) environed round, And these are they the learned Schoolmen call, The three prime Virtues Theological, Faith, Hope, and Love; Zeal all inflamed with fire Of devout acts, doth a sixt place aspire. The seventh Humility, and we commend The Eight to Constancy, which crowns the end. A Triple crown's th'Emblazon of your Crest, But to gain one, is to be ever blessed. Proceed in that fair course you have begun, So when your Annual Glass of State is run, (Nay, that of Life) Ours, but the Gate to bliss Shall let you in to yond Metropolis. NOw bright Hyperion hath unloosed his Team, And washed his Coach-Steeds in cold Ister's stream: Day doth to Night give place, yet ere You sleep, Remember what the Prophet of the Deep, Proteus foretold: All such as State aspire, Must be as Bulls, as Serpents, and like Fire. The Shepherd grazing of his Flocks, displays The use and profit from the Fleece we raise. That Indian Beast, (had he a tongue to speak) Would say, Suppress the proud, support the weak, That Ship the Merchant's honour loudly tells, And how all other Trades it antecells: But Piety doth point You to that Star, By which good Merchants steer: too bold we are To keep you from your rest; To-morrows Sun Will raise You to new cares, not yet begun.
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)
Than either you before have done, or he Could ever: having now a true inspection Into each strife, each cause without affection To this or that party: some are sed, To have had feathers on their feete and head. (As those whom I late nam'd) you must have more, And in your place be feather'd now all o're: You must have feathers in your thoughts, your eyes, Your hands, your feete; for he that's truely wise Must still be of a winged apprehension As well for execution, as prevention. You know (Right honourd Sir) delayes and pauses, In judicature, dull, if not dampe, good causes: That we presume t'advise, we pardon crave, It being confest, all these, and more you have. THis Structure is a Citadell, or Tower, Where Piety, plac't in her heavenly bower, Poynts out the way to blisse, guirt with a ring Of all those Graces that may glory bring. Here sits Religion firme, (though else where torne By Schismaticks, and made the Atheists scorne) Shining in her pure truth, nor need she quake, Affrighted with the Faggot and the stake: Shee's to you deare, you unto her are tender, Vnder the Scepter of the Faiths defender. How am I extasi'de when I behold You build new Temples, and repaire the old! There's not a stone that's laid in such foundation, But is a step degreeing to Salvation: And not a Scaffold rear'd to that intent, But mounts a Soule above the Firmament: Of Merchants, we know Magistrates are made, And they (of those) most happy that so Trade. Your Virgin-Saint sits next Religion crown'd, With her owne Hand-maids (see) inviron'd round, And these are they the learned Schoole-men call, The three prime Vertues Theologicall, Faith, Hope, and Love; Zeale all inflam'd with fire Of devout acts, doth a sixt place aspire. The seventh Humility, and we commend The Eight to Constancy, which crownes the end. A Triple Crowne's th'Emblazon of your Crest, But to gaine one, is to be ever blest. Proceede in that faire course you have begun, So when your Annuall Glasse of State is run, (Nay, that of Life) Ours, but the Gate to blisse Shall let you in to yon Metropolis. NOw bright Hiperion hath unloos'd his Teame, And washt his Coach-Steeds in cold Isters streame: Day doth to Night give place, yet e're You sleepe, Remember what the Prophet of the Deepe, Proteus fore-told: All such as State aspire, Must be as Bulls, as Serpents, and like Fire. The Shepheard grazing of his Flocks, displayes The use and profit from the Fleece we raise. That Indian Beast, (had he a tongue to speake) Would say, Suppresse the proud, support the weake, That Ship the Merchants honour loudly tells, And how all other Trades it antecells: But Piety doth point You to that Starre, By which good Merchants steere: too bold we are To keepe you from your rest; To-morrows Sunne Will raise You to new cares, not yet begun.