XIX.

The Lunatic Lover,

MAD SONG THE THIRD,

Is given from an old printed copy in the British Museum, compared with another in the Pepys collection: both in black letter.

GRIM king of the ghosts, make haste,

And bring hither all your train;

See how the pale moon does waste,
And just now is in the wane.

Come, you night-hags, with all your charms, 5
And revelling witches away,

And hug me close in your arms;
To you my respects I'll pay.

I'll court you, and think you fair,
Since love does distract my brain :

I'll go, I'll wed the night-mare,

And kiss her, and kiss her again :

But if she prove peevish and proud,

Then, a pise on her love! let her go:

I'll seek me a winding shroud,

And down to the shades below.

A lunacy sad I endure,

Since reason departs away;

10

15

I call to those hags for a cure,
As knowing not what I say.
The beauty, whom I do adore,

Now slights me with scorn and disdain ;
I never shall see her more:

Ah! how shall I bear my pain!

To find out my charming saint; While she at my grief does flout, And smiles at my loud complaint. Distraction I see is my doom,

Of this I am now too sure;

A rival is got in my room,

While torments I do endure.

Strange fancies do fill my head,
While wandering in despair,
I am to the desarts lead,
Expecting to find her there.
Methinks in a spangled cloud
I see her enthroned on high;
Then to her I crie aloud,

And labour to reach the sky.

When thus I have raved awhile,
And wearyed myself in vain,

I lye on the barren soil,

And bitterly do complain.

XX.

The Lady distracted with Love,

MAD SONG THE FOURTH,

WAS originally sung in one of Tom D'Urfey's comedies of Don Quixote, acted in 1694 and 1696; and probably composed by himself. In the several stanzas, the author represents his pretty Mad-woman as, 1, sullenly mad; 2, mirthfully mad ; 3, melancholy mad; 4, fantastically mad; and 5, stark mad. Both this and No. xxii. are printed from D'Urfey's Pills to purge Melancholy, 1719, vol. i.

FROM rosie bowers, where sleeps the god of love,
Hither ye little wanton cupids fly;
Teach me in soft melodious strains to move

With tender passion my heart's darling joy :

Ah! let the soul of musick tune my voice,
To win dear Strephon, who my soul enjoys.

Or, if more influencing

Is to be brisk and airy,

5

With a step and a bound,
With a frisk from the ground,

10

I'll trip like any fairy.

As once on Ida dancing

Were three celestial bodies:

With an air, and a face,

And a shape and a grace,

I'll charm, like beauty's goddess.

Ah! 'tis in vain! 'tis all, 'tis all in vain!
Death and despair must end the fatal pain:

15

Cold, cold despair, disguis'd like snow and rain, Falls on my breast; bleak winds in tempests blow; My veins all shiver, and my fingers glow;

21

My pulse beats a dead march for lost repose, And to a solid lump of ice my poor fond heart is froze.

Or say, ye powers, my peace to crown,
Shall I thaw myself, and drown

Among the foaming billows?
Increasing all with tears I shed,

On beds of ooze, and crystal pillows,
Lay down, lay down my love-sick head?

25

No, no, I'll strait run mad, mad, mad;

30

That soon my heart will warm;
When once the sense is fled, is fled,
Love has no power to charm.
Wild thro' the woods I'll fly, I'll fly,

Robes, locks-shall thus-be tore!

A thousand, thousand times I'll dye

35

Ere thus, thus, in vain,―ere thus in vain adore.