A New Mad TOM of Bedlam,
OR,
The man in the Moon drinks Claret.
With Powder-beef turnep and Caret.
the tune is Grayes Inne Mask.
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FOrth from my sad and darksome Cell,
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Or from the deep Abisse 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 distempred brain,
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Fear and care doth pierce my soul,
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Hark how the angry Furyes howle,
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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 will wander night & day
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to find my stragling Senses,
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In an agry mood I found old time
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withs pentarchy of Tences,
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When me he spyes,
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Away he flyes,
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For time will stay for no man
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In vain with cryes,
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I rend the Skyes
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For pitty is not common,
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Cold and comfortlesse I lye
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Help O help or els I dye
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Heark I hear,
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Apollos Team,
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The Carman gins to whistle.
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Chast Diana.
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Bends her Bow
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The Bore begins to bristle,
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Come Vulcan with Tools and with tackles-
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Shake off my troublesome shackles.
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Let Charls make ready his wain,
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To bring 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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Limping Vulcan heat an Iron Barre
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And fiercely 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 so did hang in his fight.
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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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Gorrell-bellyed Bacchus Gyant like
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bestrid a strong Beer barrel,
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To me he drank,
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I did him thank,
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But I could get no Syder,
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He drunk whole Buts,
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Till he crackt his Guts
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But mine were nere 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,
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Acteons hounds,
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The Huntsman whoops and hollows,
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Ringwood Royster,
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Bowman Jowler,
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At the chase now follows.
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The Man ith Moon drinks Claret.
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With Powder-beef Turnep and Carret.
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A cup of old Malligo Sack,
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Will fire the bush at his back.
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