Classic Poem

The best Prophets are but good Guessers.

Are then the Sibils dead? what is become
Of the lowd Oracles? Are the Augurs dumbe?
Live not the Magi that so oft reveald
Natures intents? is Gipsisme quite repeald?
Is Friar Bacon nothing but a name?
Or is all witchcraft braind with Doctor Lambe?
Does none the learned Bungies soule inherit?
Has Madam Davies dispossest her spirit?
Or will the Welchmen give me leave to say
There is no faith in Merlin? none, though they
Dare sweare each letter creed, and pawne their blood
He prophecied, an age before the flood
Of holy Dee; which was, as some have said,
Ten generations ere the Arke was made.
All your predictions but Impostures are,
And you but prophecy of things that were.
And you Caelestiall Juglers that pretend
You are acquainted with the starres, and send
Your spyes to search what's done in every spheare,
Keeping your state intelligencers there.
Your art is all deceit; for now I see
Against the Rules of deepe Astrologie,
Girles may be got when Mars his power doth vaunt,
And boyes when Venus is Predominant.
Nor doth the Moone though moist and cold shee bee
Alwaies at full work to produce the shee;
Had this been true I had foretold no lie,
It was the Art was in the wrong, not I,
Thence I so dully err'd in my beleife,
As to mistake an Adam for an Eve:
O grosse mistake, and in the civill pleas
Error Personae , Mr. Doctor sayes,
And may admit divorce, but farewell now
You hungry star-fed Tribe, hence forth I vow
Talmud, Albumazar , and Ptolomie ,
With Erra Pater shall no Gospell bee.
Nor will I ever after this I sweare
Throw Dice upon the Shepheards Calender .
But why doe I t'excuse my Ignorance
Lay blame upon the Art? no, no, perchance
I have lost all my skill: for well I know
My Physiognomie two years agoe
By the small Pox was mar'd, and it may bee
A fingers losse hath spoild my Palmistry.
But why should I a grosse mistake confesse?
No I am confident I did but guesse
The very truth: it was a male child then,
But Aunt you staid till 'twas a wench agen.
To see th' unconstancy of humane things,
How little time great Alteration brings!
All thing are subject unto change we know,
And if all things, then why not sexes too?
Tyresias we read a man was borne
Yet after did into a woman turne.
Levinus a Physitian of great fame,
Reports that one at Paris did the same.
And devout Papists say certaine it is,
One of their Popes by Metamorphosis
Indur'd the same, else how could Joan be heire
To the succession of S. Peters chaire.
So I at Chairing crosse have beheld one
A statue cut out of the Parian stone
To figure great Alcides; which when well
The Artist saw it was not like to sell;
He takes his chissell, and away he pares
Part of his sinewy neck, shaving the haires
Of his rough beard and face, smoothing the brow,
And making that looke amorous; which but now
Stood wrinkled with his anger, from his head
He poles the shaggy locks, that had o're spread
His brawny shoulders with a fleece of haire,
And workes insteed more gentle tresses there.
And thus his skill exactly to expresse,
Soon makes a Venus of an Hercules .
And can it then impossible appeare,
That such a change as this might happen here.
For this cause therefore (Gentle Aunt) I pray
Blame not my Prophecy, but your delay.
But this will not excuse me; that I may
Directly cleare my selfe, there is no way
Unlesse the Jesuits will to me impart
The secret depth of their mysterious art,
Who from their halting Patriot learne to frame
A Crutch for every word that fals out lame.
That can the subtle difference discry
Betwixt aequivocation and a lie.
And a rare scape by sly distinction find
To sweare the Tongue, and yet not sweare the mind.
Now arm'd with Arguments I nothing dread,
But my own cause thus confidently plead.
I said there was a boy within your wombe,
Not actually, but one in time to come.
Or by Antiphrasis my words might bee
That ever understands the contrary;
Or when I said you should a man-child beare,
You understood me of the sexe I feare,
When I did meane the mind; and thus define
A woman but of spirit masculine.
Or had I said it should a girle have been
And it had prov'd a boy it should have seen
Mee solve it thus; I meant a boy by fate,
But one that would have been effeminate.
Or thus I had my just excuse begun,
I said my Aunt would surely bring a sonne
If not a daughter; what we seers forsee
Is certaine truth unlesse it falshood bee.
Or I affirme because shee brought forth one
That will bring boyes, shee hath brought forth a sonne.
For doe not we call Father Adam thus
Because that he got those that have got us.
What ere I said by simple Affirmation,
I meant the right by mentall reservation.