The Lunatic Lover;
OR
The Young Man's Call to Grim King of the
Ghosts for Cure.
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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 doth wast,
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and just now is in the Wain.
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Come all 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 I'll pay.
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I'll court you and think you fair;
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since Love does distract my Brain,
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I'll go and I'll 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 pise of her Love let her go,
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I'll 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 adore,
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[n]ow slights me with scorn and disdain,
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I never shall see her more,
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ah! 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 does 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 do fill my Head,
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while wandring in Despair,
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I am to the Desarts led,
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expecting to find her there:
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Methinks in a spangl'd Cloud
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I see her enthron'd on high,
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Then to her I cry'd aloud,
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and labour'd to reach the Sky.
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When thus I have rav'd a while,
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and weary'd myself 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 quitted me,
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in Sorrow I sigh and weep,
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The Clouds are 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 Rival[']s 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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Ah, Silvia thou art thou not to blame
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to ruin 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 Elysian Shades I pass'd,
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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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