New Mad TOM of Bedlam.
OR,
The Man in the Moon drinks Clarret,
With Powder-beef, Turnip and Carret.
Tune is, Grays-Inn-Mask.
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FOrth from my sad and darksome Cell,
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Or from the deep abiss of Hell,
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Mad Tom is come to view the world again,
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To see if he can ease his distemperd brain:
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Fear and care doth pierce the Soul,
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Hark! how the angry Furies howl!
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Pluto laughs, and Proserpine is glad,
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To see poor naked Tom of Bedlam mad:
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Through the world I wander night and day
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to find my strangling Senses,
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In an angry mood I found Old Time
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withs Pentarchy of Tenches,
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When me he spies away-he-flies,
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For time will stay for no man,
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In vain with crys I rend the Skies,
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For pity is not common,
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Cold and Comfortless I lie,
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Help, O help, or else I die.
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Hark I hear Apollos Team,
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The Carman gins to whistle,
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Chast Diana bends her bow,
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The Boar begins to bristle,
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Come Vulcan with tools and with tackle,
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Shake off my troublesome shackle,
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Let Charles make ready his wain
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To bring me my Senses again.
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Last night I heard the Dog-Star bark,
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Mars met Venus in the dark,
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Leaping Vulcan het an Iron bar,
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And furiously did run at the God of war,
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Mars with his weapon laid about,
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But Vulcans temples had the gout,
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His broad Horns did so hang in his sight,
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He could not see to aim his blows aright:
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Mercury, the nimble Post of Heaven
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staid still to see the Quarrel,
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Gorrel bellied Baccus Gyant like
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bestrid a strong beer barrel:
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To me he drank, I did him thank,
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but I could get no Sider,
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He drank whole buts till he crackt his guts,
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but mine were neer the wider.
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Poor naked Tom is very-dry,
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A little drink for Charity:
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Hark I hear Acteons hounds
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The Huntsman hoops and hollows,
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Ringing Ryoster, Bowman Jowler,
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At the Chase now follows,
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The man in the Moon drinks Clarret;
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With Powder-beef, Turnep and Carret,
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A Cup of old Malago Sack
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Will fire his bush at his back.
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