Lucifer faln, or, Some reflections on the present estate of the low-countries. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B26325 of text R226343 in the English Short Title Catalog. Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 5KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B26325 Wing L3438 Interim Tract Supplement Guide Lutt.III[94] ESTC R226343 ocm99886666

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 Early English books online text creation partnership. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. B26325) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 186970) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; C6:1[96]) Lucifer faln, or, Some reflections on the present estate of the low-countries. 1 sheet ([1] p.). s.n., [London? : 1672] Imprint from Wing. Verse - "Oh I could break my spleen, to see them bow". Reproduction of original in the British Library.

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 eng Dutch War, 1672-1678 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. Netherlands -- Foreign relations -- England -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. England -- Foreign relations -- Netherlands -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. Broadsides -- England -- London -- 17th century. eebo Lucifer faln, or, Some reflections on the present estate of the low-countries. . n/a 1672 1 738 1 0 0 0 0 0 13.55 C The rate of 13.55 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2014-04 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2014-06 Sampled and proofread 2014-06 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2015-03 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
LUCIFER FALN , OR , Some Reflections on the Present Estate of the LOW-COUNTRIES . OH I could break my Spleen , to see them bow And make Grimaces like Jack-Puddings now : To see their swelling High , and trebly Great , Dwindle into a poor Distressed State : Their Pageantry discover'd , and they be In a true sence called Low Germany . As High before as could Ambition rear We 'll have them now as low as is Despair . This State was Dropsical sunk with its weight And with ill Humours swell'd too big and great . It had too much Sea-Water in 't , yet we Tap'd the Disease , and brought recovery . They were grown great , the wondring World surmis'd There some strange birth was in that bulk compris'd We shew'd the World the Cheat , and made them see All their great Hopes was but a Tympany . Brave English Doctors ! now 't is understood For th●ir Disease Phlebotomy is good . Our Guns prove Soveraign Remedies , and do Both send them Pills and Physick-Powder too . But they have lost so much Blood , are grown so weak , They 've got Convulsions , and begin to quake . They from their boggy Land the custom get , Which never had its former soundness yet , Since D'Alva struck it with a Palsy-fit . Bold Wretches were they that had no defence , Nothing to guard them , but their Confidence . That have no Spirits , but only those of Wine , And when those once are spent , then theirs decline . The Podex of the World ; and yet they dare Against the Head their lofty Treasons bear . We sent them packing ; and a man may tell , They 've the least Journey in the World to Hell . Extreams are violent ; what though they be From little Sprats turn'd the great Sharks of th' sea . What though they quickly like a Mush'room grow As Natures meanest Products always do . Yet must they needs the spatious World excel ? Or What is more , our English parellel ? Poor Fools ! How they mistake , alas we know Those that are quick of growth , are short-liv'd too . Th' Oak lives some hundred years before its prime ; The boggy Willow dies oft in that time . Stars fall , and have their hidden fates : Kingdoms and Empires have their certain dates . All things have Periods , and must these be The only men that laugh at Destiny . My Augury mistakes then , 't is no Land , Where a perpetual endless State may stand ; No everlasting Rocks to build upon , But an uncertain soft Foundation . The Giants once struck at the Heavenly Powers , They fell by Jove's great Thunder , These by Ours . Couch , and be humble , your own weakness know ; Bubbles if touch'd , like you , prove nothing too . Pull down your Crests , your Lions Couchant now . Our English Cocks can crow , and fright him too . You 've King'd it long enough , the Play is o're , Leave your disguise , turn Fishermen once more 't is but in vain to strive , it is your fate To sit at th' Helm of Ships , not Helm of State . Lower and lower still ; O we know how To make your haughty Hogen Mogen bow . Kneel and be humble , we must have your fall . We 've us'd your Hands , now must have Knees and all . Come know your selves ; a Maxim old and good , Though by your proud ones 't is not understood . We 'll learn you Morrals , and your Ethicks show , And to Superiors better manners too . Come vail your Topsails , those that are ill bred , And will not daugh their Hats , we 'll daugh their Head . Shrink in your heads , a Tempest is here , th'High Are the object of the Tempests Tyranny : The Cedars torn , the gentle Reeds escape By their submission from the furious Rape . Be wise and humble , and t' avoid the stroke Fly for your shelter to the English Oak .