The Lunatick Lover:
OR,
The Young Mans Call to Grim King of the Ghosts for Cure.
To an Excellent New Tune. Licensed according to Order.
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GRim King of the Ghosts make hast,
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and bring hither all your Train;
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See how the pale Moon dos wast!
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and just now is in the Wain:
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Come you Night-Hags with all your Charms,
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and Revelling Witches away,
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And hug me close in your Arms,
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to you my Respects Ill pay.
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Ill Court you and think you fair,
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since Love dos distract my Brain;
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Ill go and Ill wed the Night-Mare,
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and kiss her and kiss her again,
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But if she proves peevish and proud,
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then a pile of her Love let her go,
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Ill seek me a winding Shroud,
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and down to the Shades below.
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A Lunacy I endure,
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since Reason departs away;
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I call to those Hags for cure,
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as knowing not what I say:
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The Beauty whom I do adore,
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now slights me with scorn and disdain;
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I never shall see her more,
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oh! how shall I bear my pain?
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I ramble and range about
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to find out my charming Saint,
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While she at my Grief dos flout,
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and smiles at my loud Complaint:
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Distraction I see is my Doom,
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of this I am too too sure;
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A Rival is got in my room,
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while Torments I do endure.
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Strange Fancies doth fill my Head,
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while wandring in Despair,
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I am to the Desarts lead,
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expecting to find her there:
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Methinks in a spangld Cloud
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I see her enthrond on high,
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Then to her I cryd aloud,
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and labourd to reach the Sky.
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When thus I have ravd a while,
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and wearyd my self in vain,
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I lie on the barren Soil,
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and bitterly do complain;
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Till Slumber hath quieted me,
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in sorrow I sigh and weep,
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The Clouds is my Canopy,
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to cover me while I sleep.
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I dream that my Charming Fair
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is then in my Rivals Bed,
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Whose Tresses of golden Hair
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is on the fair Pillows spread
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Then this doth my Passion enflame,
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I start and no longer can lie:
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An! Silvia, art thou not to blame
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to Ruine a Lover? I cry.
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Grim King of the Ghosts be true,
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and hurry me hence away;
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My languishing Life to you,
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as Tribute I freely pay:
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To the Elizium Shades I post,
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in hopes to be free from Care,
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Where many a bleeding Ghost
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is hovering in the Air.
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