University of Virginia Library

Now Phoebus seeing madam Moon
Look as pale as a horn-spoon,
And all the stars quite disappear,
Ev'n Lucifer who guards the rear;
Straight he calls out a leash of lackeys,
Some call them Gods, which their mistake is,
At most they're but plebeian powers,

And we, poor mortals, call them hours.
These nimble boys, then, were not idle,
Each quickly snatching up a bridle,
Led forth the steeds, well fed with hay,
From stables where all night they lay.
Then Phoebus taking out a flask
Of oil, for why, he wears no mask,
All o'er, from lug to lug, besmear'd
His face, his whiskers, and his beard:
And this forsooth he did assure him,

'Gainst all sun-burning would secure him;
And on his head, to make him trig,
He put a powder'd periwig.
But calling into mind the tallow
Wherewith their dying friends some hallow,
(A practice once, they say, was common)
He thought it was no pleasant omen,
He sigh'd untill his guts did tumble,
Then out these following words did mumble,
“My son, observe what I'm to tell you,
‘And if you don't, then dool will fell you:
‘ And first, keep a good bridle-hand;
‘But seldom use the spur or wand.
‘My steeds their own jog-trot will keep,
‘Scarce will they leave't for spur or whip.
‘You must not drive too high nor low,
‘The safest way is 'twixt the two.
‘For if you chance to drive too high,
‘You'll burn the sign-posts of the sky.
‘Astrologers will be undone,
‘When not one house in heav'n is known;
‘And who, without a sign, can tell
‘Where heavenly constellations dwell?
‘And if too low (which a disgrace is),
‘You will tawn all the ladies faces.
‘Now, more directions were but needless;
‘I hope you will not be so heedless,
‘But you'll observe and closely follow
‘ The coach-wheel tract, you'll find it hollow;
‘And this will guide you to a minute,
‘Or else I'm sure the Devil's in it.
‘And so to fortune I must leave ye,
‘I wish she play not you a shavie.
‘And now comes on the firie-farie,
‘Time calls us, and we must not tarry;
‘Then take the reins, or if, as yet,
‘You'll show less fondness and more wit,
‘Let me alone to guide the chariot,
‘'Tis ten to one but you will mar it;
‘Stay you at home, and sport and play,
‘And suffer me to guide the day:
‘Here you may safely dance and caper,
‘And see me drive the blazing taper.”