The suspence upon SIXTY SIX:
OR THE Astrologers Prerogative.
Reader, Begin don't stop nor halt it, when
You'av' read a Line, press forward to the end;
And if there wants discourse your wits to please,
Blame not the Author, tis not his Disease;
If matter fails; your goodness will excuse
His petty fault, rather commend his Muse
Deserving nought, but if you'l add to it,
Twill please him well to hear some can remit.
YOU daily sluggards, you that view the Skies
In'th silence of the Night; you thus precise,
That sits to watch the shooting of one Star,
And then by computation to declare
All flesh as grass; The Plague shall cease that Town,
This shall be free, that Land shall have renown.
This by invasions suffer great distress,
No Remedy shall help, tis remed'less.
The
Polish Troops shall in a civil War
This year engage to fight: The fiery Star
Northward the Pole, forespeaks it to be true,
Their faith will call it real; and not a few
Doth credite this; look farther yet and gaze
The Star in'th East brings peace, where no War was.
This year they'l say the
Turks in
Candia fight
With the
Venetian, who to keep their right
Will give them Battel, and a total rout,
Until with new supplies they face about.
Thus plac't is their design, they'l never want
Success to their reports, which makes them vaunt
In their delusions; sometimes a Wound
They'l plaister up, and swear their's not but sound
This is to please, this is to favour what
Allows them this, from whom by favour got
Their Land is still secur'd, no Wolf shall touch
A Lamb of this their Fold, the Heavens shews such
No blast shall scorch their Corn, no mildews spoil
Their tender spring, but plenty shall recoil
From that which went before; no nipping frost
Shall blite their Trees, their Land shall not be crost.
Thus did they urge, when an unusual Star
Approach't the Heavens, which made the Commons stare,
Yet soon appeas'd by these slye gazers on,
Who gave it out the
Turks should be undone.
We should be clear, our State was not concern'd,
Though since, to'ur cost, Bowels have often yern'd;
Some on our Friends, some on our Neighbours lost,
Some on our own Estates, some on our Hoast.
Which of them all did e're the least describe
The raging Pestilence thus to reside
Within this Land, to have our Cities fild
With slain, as if it were whole Armies kill'd;
The Countrey had no less, the Fleet had some,
What could we think but that our final doom
Was near at hand? But thanks be to above
We'r yet a Nation; O lets joyn in love
And fight with courage 'gainst our
Belgian Foes,
Unless a grateful Peace they will compose;
Our Cause is good, how should we want for aid,
When One above will help us being decay'd.
Where were these Watchmen when the War broke out
'Tween Us and
France, surely they'd all the Gout,
They could not gaze, and so did not declare
The League 'tween
Dutch and
French 'gainst whom we are
On their gouty limbs, not vext with that disease
The last foregoing year, being well at ease
They spoke of Sixty Six, and to defend
The certainty approv'd, do still depend
On the ruine of the Pope; the Conclave they
Shall be dissolv'd, no more the Pope obey:
What happens then within this compleat year,
Believing them, be sure 'tis very rare.
These are but tricks, be patient for a time,
Delay your judgment, you shall quickly find
What ten months will produce; if it appears
To be of wonder great, a Year of Years;
Then pass your censure on these starry men,
But let your reason sway the hinder end;
That so your judgement may be fix't aright,
The Balance weighing equal none to light.
With Allowance.
LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1666.