Dekker, Thomas · published 1628 · first performed or written 1628 [Oct 29] (Annals) civic play; pageant unassigned nearest T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and · 507 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
Hail worthy Praetor, (Hail Grave Senators) The Queen of Waves (leaving Grey Neptune's Bowers) waits here (Fair Lord) to serve you. Fame's Report, (so far as old Oceanus' Crystal Court) what Triumphs Ceremony forth would Call To Swell the joys of This Grand Festival, Enticed me with my Mermaids and a Train Of sea-nymphs hither. Here (this day) shall Reign Pleasures in State Majestic: And to lend A brighter Splendour to them, do Attend Three of my Noblest Children, Humber, Trent, And Severn (Glorious made by Punishment.) The Silver-footed Thames (my eldest son) To Grace your Triumphs, by your Barge shall run. Your Fortunes (led by a white-handed Fate Up to this High Fame) I Congratulate: Glad am I to behold you Thus Set Round With Glories, Thus with Acclamations Crowned, So Circled, and Hemmed in, on Every side With Echoing Music, Fishes even take pride To Swim along, and listen, Go, and Take The Dignity stays for you, whilst I make Smooth way Before you, on This Glassy Floor, Ushering your glad Arrival to the Shore. To honour's Temple now you have not far, High, and Come back more Great than yet you Are, On, BEhold, the four Elements wait upon you to do you Honour: Water hath provided Floating Triumphs to Dance in the Air: In the Air are a Thousand Echoes with Music in their Mouths, to Entice you to hear them: On the Shore shall ten thousand pair of hands give you Plaudits in the City: The Element of Fire, Thunders aloud your welcomes. Throngs of Subjects here, are glad to see the Graces enthroned on your Forehead: All the Delicacies of Love, playing on your Eyelids, The Roses of England, and the Lilies of France, Kissing one Another on your cheeks. Be you healthful as the Spring; Glorious as Summer: Fruitful as the Vine: Safety run along your Chariot by Day; Golden Slumbers dress up your Chamber at Night. Live long, Live happy, Live beloved; Goodness Guard you, Virtues Crown you, Angels Guide you. TEn thousand welcomes Greet you on the shore, (My long expected Praetor,) O before You look on Others, fix your eyes on Me, On Me, your second Mother, (London.) she Whom all Great Britain's Cities, style their Queen, For still I am, and have her Darling been. The Christian World, in Me, reads Times best stories, And Reading, falls blind at my dazling Glories, But now the Snow of age, covers my head: As therefore you, by Me have up been bred, You (Sir) must Nurse me now: with a quick eye View then my Tree of Honour, branching high For hundreds of past years, with 12. large Stems, twelve Noble Companies, which like 12. Gems So shine, they add new Sun beams to the Day: Guard all these 12. maine-Boughes; but you must lay: A soft hand, on the Topping-branch, for there (Thrive the Root well) yourself grows all this year: The lesser twigs which lowly run along My tall Tree, Border, you must shield from wrong,
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)
HAile worthy Praetor, (Haile Graue Senators) The Queene of Waues (leauing Gray Neptunes Bowres) waites here (Faire Lord) to serue you. Fames Report, (so farre as old Oceanus Christall Court) what Tryumphes Ceremony forthwould Call To Swell the Ioyes of This Grand Festiuall, Iutic'de me with my Mermaydes and a Traine Of Sea-Nymphes hither. Here (this day) shall Reigne Pleasures in State Maiesticke: And to lend A brighter Splendor to them, do Attend Three of my Noblest Children, Humber, Trent, And Seuerne (Glorious made by Punishment.) The Siluer-footed Thames (my eldest sonne) To Grace your Tryumphes, by your Barge shall runne. Your Fortunes (led by a white-handed Fate Vp to this High Fame) I Congratulate: Glad am I to behold you Thus Set Round With Glories, Thus with Acclamations Crownd, So Circled, and Hembd in, on Euery side With Ecchoing Musicke, Fishes euen take pride To Swimme along, and listen, Goe, and Take The Dignity stayes for you, whilst I make Smooth way Before you, on This Glassy Floore, Vshering your glad Arriuall to the Shore. To Honors Temple now you haue not farre, Hye, and Come backe more Great than yet you Are, On, BEhold, the foure Elements waite vpon you to do you Honor: Water hath prouided Floating Tryumphes to Dance in the Aire: In the Aire are a Thousand Ecchoes with Musick in their Mouthes, to Intice you to heare them: On the Shore shall ten thousand paire of hands giue you Plaudits in the Citty: The Element of Fire, Thunders aloud your welcomes. Thronges of Subjects here, are glad to see the Graces Inthroand on your Forehead: All the Delicacies of Loue, playing on your Eye-lids, The Roses of England, and the Lillies of France, Kissing one Another on your cheekes. Be you healthfull as the Spring; Glorious as Summer: Fruitful as the Vine: Safety runne along your Chariot by Day; Golden Slumbers dresse vp your Chamber at Night. Liue long, Liue happy, Liue beloude; Goodnesse Guard you, Vertues Crowne you, Angels Guide you. TEn thousand welcomes Greete you on the shore, (My long expected Praetor,) O before You looke on Others, fixe your eyes on Mee, On Mee, your second Mother, (London.) Shee Whom all Great Brittaines Citties, stile their Queene, For still I am, and have her Darling beene. The Christian World, in Me, reads Times best stories, And Reading, fals blind at my dazling Glories, But now the Snow of age, couers my head: As therefore you, by Mee haue vp binbred▪ You (Sir) must Nurse me now: with a quicke eye View then my Tree of Honor, branching high For hundreds of past yeares, with 12. large Stems, Twelue Noble Companies, which like 12. Iems So shine, they adde new Sun beames to the Day: Guard all these 12. maine-Boughes; but you must lay: A soft hand, on the Topping-branch, for there (Thriue the Roote well) your Selfe grows al this yeare: The lesser twigges which lowly runne along My tall Tree, Border, you must shield from wrong,