FORTH from the dark and dismal Cell, Or from the deep abiss of Hell, Mad @3Tom@1 is come to view the World again, To see if he can Cure his destemper'd Brain: Fears and Cares oppress my Soul; Hark, how the angry Furies howl; @3Pluto@1 laughs, and @3Proserpine@1 is glad, To see poor angry @3Tom of Bedlam@1 mad. Through the World I wander night and day, To find my stragling Senses, In an angry mood I met Old Time With his Pentateuch of Tenses; When me he spies, Away he flies, For Time will stay for no man; In vain with cryes, I rend the Skies, For Pity is not common. Cold and comfortless I lye, Help, help, oh help, or else I dye! Hark, I hear @3Apollo@1's Team, The Carman 'gins to whistle; Chast @3Diana@1 bends her Bow, And the Boar begins to bristle. Come @3Vulcan@1 with Tools and with Tackles, To knock off my troublesome shackles: Bid @3Charles@1 make ready his Wain, To bring me my Senses again. II. Last Night I heard the Dog-star bark, @3Mars@1 met @3Venus@1 in the Dark; Limping @3Vulcan@1 heat an Iron Bar, And furiously made at the great God of War. @3Mars@1 with his weapon laid about, Limping @3Vulcan@1 had got the Gout; His broad Horns did hang so in his light, That he could not see to aim his blows aright. @3Mercury@1 the nimble Post of Heaven Stood still to see the Quarrel; Gorrel-belly'd @3Bacchus@1', Gyant-like, Bestrid a Strong-beer Barrel: To me he Drank, I did him thank, But I could drink no Sider; He drank whole Buts, 'Till he burst his Guts, But mine was ne're the wider. Poor @3'Tom@1 is very Dry; A little Drink, for Charity: Hark! I hear @3Acteon's@1 Hounds, The Huntsman Hoops and Hollows; Ringwood, Rockwood, Jowler, Bowman, All the Chace doth follow. The Man in the Moon drinks Clarret, Eats Powder'd-Beef, Turnep, and Carret: But a Cup of Malligo Sack Will fire the Bush at his Back. |