J. G's VERSES about the Prince of WALES in his Almanack for the Year 1689. Travestyed.
In JANUARY.
ALL hail, my Masters! Eighty Eight is gone;
That Year of wonders, which the World so fear'd;
Yet hath produc'd (for us to Anchor on)
A PRINCE of WALES! the Subject of each Bard.
And that thou now art mine, sweet Babe! forgive,
I'de sing thy praises, and thy Vassal live.
TRAVESTY.
All hail, my Masters! what is here to do;
A Year of Wonders dost thou call it John?
'Twas such a year, so fatal to your Crew,
It hath not left you ground to anchor on.
Let Chains then be their Lot, who humbly Crave,
And beg to be a Little Bastard's Slave.
In FEBRUARY.
Angels and Stars adorn'd this Royal BIRTH,
As if the Prince of Peace breath'd peace on Earth.
May it to War-like Britain prove, as he
Did to the World; [its Saviour to be!]
Gladding the drooping Souls of Loyal Men;
And Madmen to their wits return agen.
TRAVESTY.
Angels and Stars; why, what should they do there?
The man mistook, and meant the Prince o'th' Air.
Jack's Prince of Peace was by a fury brought;
J••ffries, you know, saw him come reaking hot.
We know his coming pleas'd the shaven Crew,
And with them [Jack] it did rejoyce us too.
In MARCH.
Who says that EIGHTY EIGHT nought signifies?
Sith such a radiant fixed Star did rise
In our Horizon? Can a PRINCE be born
That shall the World with Regal Acts a••••orn
In future times? and yet that fertile Year
Be passive thought, wherein he did appear?
TRAVESTY.
Who says that Eighty Eight nought signifies?
If any do [though Jack himself] he lies.
It gave a Child, a new way got, and born,
Poor Abdicated Creature, all mens scorn.
It gave us Ease from our avowed Foe,
And gave the Papists too a Cursed Blow.
In APRIL.
No, No! Sour Criticks! God doth dignify
The art of numbers with sweet Harmony.
How many Learned Pens have deign'd to write
Of things stupendious in EIGHTY EIGHT?
And so! herein Great WALES, a Prince of bliss,
Born for the Ease of tender Consciences.
TRAVESTY.
No, No, sour Criticks; we cannot deny
That Gadbury hath learnt to Cant and Lye;
Witness that Year with all these Lies and Tales
About the Glories of his Prince of Wales.
Poor harmless Babe, miscall'd a Prince of bliss;
Born for his Mother's Ease, not Consciences.
In MAY
Thrice happy must that SENATE prove that shall
So meet their PRINCE; for to content us all!
Alas! mens minds and thoughts as different be,
As are their faces; like them disagree:
From such a LAW our King will ever shine
In future times, an English CONSTANTINE.
TRAVESTY.
Thrice happy must that Land and Senate be,
That is from Popish Tyranny set free:
Let Priests lead fools; Let us abhor that thrall
That talks of freedom, when they chain 'em all.
'Twas from such Laws [that King resolv'd to shine]
As Lewis gives▪ and not a Constantine.
In JUNE.
By whose Example, Britain's after Kings
May shun the Cause whence dire Rebellion springs.
Nothing so surely keeps a Land in Awe
As Ivory Love; the Christians Golden Law.
But Tyrant force makes people try their brains
A thousand ways to break their Bonds and Chains.
TRAVESTY.
By whose Example must our after Kings,
Shun all those Causes whence Rebellion springs?
Your Prince of Wales I know; while your soft names
Of Golden Laws, are join'd to Iron Chains.
'Twas Tyrant-force made People try their Brains▪
To Abdicate the Cause, and break their Chains.
In JULY.
But who doubts Ease and Quiet? Since we have
Heavens happy Earnest in a Prince so brave.
Born on that Day , we justly Celebrate
The holy Feast o'th' blest Triumvirate.
As if the Sacred TRINE design'd thereby,
To raise Great BRITAINS Ancient PIETY.
TRAVESTY.
None need doubt Ease and Quiet, since we have
Heavens Gift and Blessing, in a Prince so brave:
Born to Restore our Peace; 'tis he alone,
Shall pull Tyrannick Popish Worship down:
This is the Man [not the Welch Prince] shall be
The true Restorer of our Liberty.
In AUGUST.
Let's then contend, who shall best Tribute yield
To this Sweet PRINCE! On whom our Hopes we build
POETS pay Verses! VIRGINS Innocence!
MINERVA Wisdom! MARS brings strong defence.
Each Man brings OFFERINGS proper to his Sphere,
And none forget to breathe a HOLY PRAYER.
TRAVESTY.
Here John tells truth, In this Sweet Prince, [said he]
Our Hopes are laid of all Felicity.
Each pays his Tribute: John alone, you see,
Abounds in his own Talent, Flattery;
This is his Offering, proper to his Sphere,
A precious Tool to breathe a Holy Prayer.
In SEPTEMBER.
And let September, [for the Mothers sake
Of this bless'd Babe] a better Name partake.
The seventh Month were dull, but that we see
This matchless Princess in it Born to be.
Bright MODENA, who hath enrich'd our Land;
May thy great Name in this Month ever stand.
TRAVESTY.
And let September never be forgot,
Nor Modena, not yet the Bawdy-Plot;
Nor yet Dada, who as the Story tells,
Lent her his Hand, and with that Aarons Bells.
When Babes by Miracles are got, as said,
Farewel the ancient way of Sheets and Bed:
In OCTOBER.
October! may'st thou always prove
For God-like JAMES his Birth; a Prince, whose Love
Joyn'd with his Prudence, hath for us done more,
Than all the REFORMATION could before.
Oh! Let him Live and Reign to see this SON
Of Years and Parts fit for his Fathers Throne.
TRAVESTY.
October did this Land a King afford,
A Prince, they say, that never broke his Word;
Whose Courage, Wit, and Conduct, hath done more,
Than all our Great Reformers could before.
His Reign was short and sweet, but ere 'twas done,
The consecrated Smock produc'd a Son.
In NOVEMBER.
November brought forth Pious Katherine,
Portugal's Princess! England's Virtuous Queen,
To whom, tho Heaven Children did deny;
She liv'd a hopeful Prince of WALES to see.
And let me speak it to her lasting FAME,
Gladly she gave the ROYAL BABE his Name.
TRAVESTY.
November, hang't, that plaguy Powder-plot,
Which Jack so often wilfully forgot;
Nay, last year too; you see how good Men fails!
He thought of nothing then, but Prince of Wales.
To shew you too, his spreading Christian Fame:
He tells you, who did give the B. his Name.
In DECEMBER.
Now MƲSE forbear! This year draws to an end:
In th' next, perhaps thou mayst thy Measures mend.
Thou gav'st such Hopes long since, of this bless'd Birth,
As warm'd each LOYAL HEART with Joy and Mirth.
But positive Truth suits not with Human Skill.
When that is Writ, an ANGEL guides the Quill.
TRAVESTY.
Now Muse forbear! the Year draws to an end,
And bid Friend John, his next Years Measures mend.
Who, by his Hocus-pocus Priests and Tricks,
Foretold a Prince of Wales in Eighty six.
A likely Story! for he could not say,
When all his Makers were to run away,
Passive Obedience Stars will not obey.
Read gentle Reader: Read, and think his Crimes;
How base he is, that wrote these fulsome Lines.