Poems on Affairs of State :: :: University of Virginia Library

The States-Man's Almanack:

Being an Excellent New Ballad, in which the Qualities of each Month are consider'd; whereby it appears, that a Parliament cannot meet in any of the Old Months: With a Proposal for mending the Kalender, humbly offered to the Packers of the next Parliament.

[_]

To the Tune of, Cold and Raw, &c.

PROLOGUE.

[I]

The talk up and down,
In Country and Town,
Has been long of Parliaments sitting,
But we'll make it clear,
Ne'r a month in the Year,
Is proper for such a Meeting.

II

The Judges declare it,
The Ministers swear it,
And the Town as a Tale receives it:
Let them say what they can,
There's never a Man,
Except God's Vicegerent, believes it.

III

If the Criticks in spight,
Our Arguments slight,
And think 'em too light for the Master:
It has often been known,
That Men on a Throne,
Have Hrarang'd the whole Realm with no better.

IV

For in times of Old,
When Kings were less bold
And made for their faults Excuses:
Such Topicks as these,
The Commons to please,
Did serve for most Excellent Uses.

V

Either Christmas came on,
Or Harvest begun,
And all must repair to their Station:
'Twas too Dry, or too Wet,
For the Houses to Sit,
And Hey for a Prorogation.

VI

Then, Sir, if you please,
With such Reasons as these,
Let's see how each Moon is appointed:
For tho it be strange,
In all her Change,
She Favours not God's Anointed.

The ALMANACK.

January.

The first is too cold,
For Popery to hold,
Since Southern Climats Improve it:
And therefore in Frost,
'Tis Odds but it's lost,
If they offer to remove it.

February.

The next do's betide,
(Tho then the King dy'd)
Ill luck, and they must not be tampring:
For had not Providence quick,
Cool'd his Head i'th' Nick,
'Fore God they were all a scampring.

March.

The Month of Old Rome,
Has an Omen with some,
But the sleeping Wind then Rouzes,
And trust not the crowd,
When Storms are so loud,
Lest their Breath infect the Houses.

April.

In this by Mishap,
Southask had a Clap,
Which pepper'd our Gracious Master:
And therefore i'th' Spring,
He must Physick his Thing,
And venture no new Disaster.

May.

This Month is too good,
And too lusty his Blood,

To be for Business at leisure,
With his Confessors leave,
Honest Bridget may give,
The Fumbler Royal his Pleasure.

June.

The Brains of the State,
Have been too hot of late,
They have manag'd all Business in rapture:
And to call us in June,
Is much to the same Tune,
Being mad to the end of the Chapter.

July.

This Season was made
For Camp and Parade,
Where with the Expence of his Treasures;
Of much Sweat and Pains,
Discreetly he Trains,
Such Men, as will break all his Measures.

August.

This Month did advance
Our Projects in France,
As Bartholomew Remembers;
But alas they want force,
To take the same Course,
With our Heretical Members.

September.

They cannot now meet,
For the Progress was set,
But they find it a scurvy Fashion:
To ride, and to ride,
To be snubb'd and deny'd,
By every good man in the Nation.

October.

Now Hunting comes in,
That License for Sin,

That do's with a Cloak befriend him,
For if the Queen knows,
What at G---'s he do's,
His Divine Right can hardly defend him.

November.

November might do,
For ought that we know:
But that the King promis'd by chance Sirs,
And his Word before,
Was pawn'd for much more,
Than e're 'twill be able to Answer.

December.

The last of the year,
Resemblance does bear,
To their hopes and fortune declining:
Ne'r hope for success,
Day grows less and less,
And the Sun once so high has done shining.

EPILOGUE.

[I]

You Gypsies of Rome,
That run up and down,
And with Miracles People Cozen:
By the help of some Saint,
Get the Month that you want,
And make Thirteen of the Dozen.

II

You see the Old year,
Wont help ye, 'tis clear,
And therefore to save your Honour:

Get a new Sun and Monn,
And the Work is half done,
And Faith I think not sooner