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When Phaeton came to the door,
Doubting his mother was a whore,
He chap'd, and then put in his head,
Pull'd off his cap, and said, God speed.
And having made a homely jook,
Spy'd Phoebus sitting in the nook,
With purple gown, in armed chair,
Contriving how to guide the year.
A minute-watch hang at his back,
And in his hand an almanack;
And round about him, in a ring,
Sand-glasses did in plenty hing:
The names of months, you may believe, he,
From March to March, had inclusive;
The summer, harvest, winter, spring,
About the walls on boards did hing;
And, to prevent all foul mistakes,
Of kalendars and almanacks,
Great store in every corner lay,
Which serv'd to guide him on his way.
 
------ Intravit dubitati tecta parentis.
------ A dextra lævaque dies, & mensis, & annus,
Seculaque, & positæ spatiis æqualibus horæ.