Midsummer's prognostication of pacification and vnity betwixt the King and Parliament.: To the joy of the two twin-sisters, London and Westminster. Wherein is expressed, the onely and readiest way to settle peace in this our Israel these distracted times, and to bring a happy reconciliation and agreement to this kingdome, with a stedfast love betweene His Majesty and his subjects, this vacation. 1642. Written by Isaac Massy, M.A.

THIS Midsummer's Prognostication.

AMongst the Papers thick and threefold sent, Twixt Yorke and London, King and Parliament, Let now a Preacher of Gods Holy Word One Paper print, A Message from the Lord. Go to, Ther's some would go to ransacke Hull, And so their stomacks would be prettie full: Ther's others would go ransack Lumbard street, But fy upon them they shall never meet. For what say I now to such hungry soules That gape for such unheard of hony-falls; Their proper swords must in their gutts be sheath'd, That from their mouthes have first such frenzy breathd. To Ireland run, ye sword-men that would fight, Turne ye, take leave, and bid this land good night. We have a promise made to Protestants, Peace is extended to supply our wants.

The love of peace good protestants unites, God is our peace; and nothing must affright's. Christ is our peace, of peace the Counseller Preacher of peace, of peace the practiser. He is not angry but with onely those That are to God, and each to other foes. The law's for warre, the Gospell is for peace, We of the Gospell have a lasting lease, Call'd Gospellers of old, who hath not seene That such the protestants of old have beene. They tooke that lease not to expire, tis feal'd A statute law, that cannot be repeal'd. Now hold together London, Westminster, Ye have one name and title Gospeller. To get the honey bladder from the bees The boyes in pieces pull them (each man sees) Let nothing pull you sisters two, in twaine: Then I prognosticate ye both shall gaine. London, and Westminster insectilees I cannot liken ye but unto bees. You Innes a Court-men, and you Citizens, I doe prognosticate you shall be friends. I speake it seriously I doe not iest I hold ye past compare above the rest. I leave ye both, my callings inclination Bindes me to be ith country this vacation.

But I have hope next tearme to visit ye In health, in peace, in all prosperitie, I see so many humble mens petitions, The King preventing many propositions, I dare be bold now to prognosticate We have a working reconcil'de estate. If I be found to drive the lying trade Of Almanacks that are at Christmas made, I have excuse will answer for me soone, I write mine almanack Midsummer Moone. If I by chance am come into the fashion Of being mad, it is lesse imputation, Than to be mad at Christmas in cold blood When to make lies in print is farre from good. But I may make a nigh and neighbour guesse And if I erre my error is the lesse. Because tis good to have adventured Allthough successe should be unprospered. Tis Petermasse, John Baptist, Midsummer, To be of future good a harbinger, Tis signe of health, observe me in this tune If ever you felt cooler moneth of Iune. Or saw more plenty furnishing the earth Or hasting more to come to timely birth. Tis Saint Iohn Baptists holy Almanack Whereof at this time I presume to crack.

Both for the cooling raine that fell that day And for the wind that sweetly blew away The sicknesse, that is feard, and was so fell, It is asswagde, allay'd, and lessned well. Tis little spoke of, all things promise faire, To Citizens of nature Debonayre. Bring forth your treasures hid, you that have store. They doe repent, that be not warn'd before. You that have Country houses and will go As I have said above, forespeaking so, List what I say, attend you every man I greet you with the luck of Jonathan. That God, which went with Davids friend, the good Prince Ionathan, who cleane did rid the wood Of all the theeves (before that worthy man Fled all the rogues, the host Philistian, Whilst God with hony Ionathan did greet From topps of trees the hony to his feet Did drope, like amber from outlandish trees The hony sweat from the laborious bees.) That God with sweets bedew your country ground, The choysest wellcoms for you there be found, Where you intend in solemne recreation, To passe the time of this next long vacation. And for the rogues that robbers here would be, Let them, like Philistims to tyborne flee.

That is a guerdon due, their just reward, Who would have others from their owne debar'd. But now for you that daily study how Your private state may to the publique bow, And how you may the rustie things refine In Church and state, that no man may repine, The Lord that gives both hearts and hands to worke Put ends to rigid writings that doe lurke In woods of paper leaves, there is no end Saith Solomon, of making, much to mend, Of many bookes, one humble supplication May get of these a little relaxation. God blesse the happie hopefull Parliament, God grant in some things that they may relent, An intermission make of rigid writing, Tis said, there is no end of much indigh ting. Thus I prognosticate, you must forgive, And by a pardon generall must live. The Parliament of some things must remit, The King must pardon, and the naile is hit. To this conclusion say a loud amen, All you that are true hearted Englishmen. This is prepar'd for peace and plenties meeting, That they may have this yeare a friendly greeting. The meanes you see, the Parliament inventing, A bill toth' purpose, and the King consenting.

So by the end of this next long vacation Our land shall be a quiet habitation. Rumors of warrs, distractions, all shall cease, And then shall be securitie and peace. After a day of raining showry winde, A sunshine morning entertaines my minde, Prognosticating after cloudy times, Then comes a pleasure suting to my rimes.

FINIS.