The suspense 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'll add to it,  
'twill please him well to hear some can remit.  

YOU daily sluggards, you that view the Skies  
Inth' 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 credit this; look farther yet and gaze  
The Star inth' East brings peace, where no War was.  
This year they'll say the Turks in Candia fight  
With the Venetian, who to keep their right  
Will give them Battle, and a total rout,  
Until with new supplies they face about.  
Thus placed is their design, they'll never want  
Success to their reports, which makes them vaunt  
In their delusions; sometimes a Wound  
They'll plaster 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 secured, no Wolf shall touch  
A Lamb of this their Fold, the Heavens shows 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 crossed.  
Thus did they urge, when an unusual Star  
Approached the Heavens, which made the Commons stare,  
Yet soon appeased by these sly gazers on,  
Who gave it out the Turks should be undone.  
We should be clear, our State was not concerned,  
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 Host.  
Which of them all did e'er the least describe  
The raging Pestilence thus to reside  
Within this Land, to have our Cities filled  
With slain, as if it were whole Armies killed;  
The Country 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're yet a Nation; O let's join 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 decayed.  
Where were these Watchmen when the War broke out  
Between Us and France, surely they'd all the Gout,  
They could not gaze, and so did not declare  
The League between Dutch and French 'gainst whom we are  
On their gouty limbs, not vexed with that disease  
The last foregoing year, being well at ease  
They spoke of Sixty Six, and to defend  
The certainty approved, do still depend  
On the ruin of the Pope; the Conclave they  
Shall be dissolved, no more the Pope obey:  
What happens then within this complete year,  
Believing them, be sure 'tis very rare.   

These are but tricks, be patiented for a time,  
Delay your judgement, 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 fixed aright,  
The Balance weighing equal none to light.   By E. G. Gent.  

With Allowance.   

LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1666.