Classic Poem

F FORTH : ffrom my sadd & darksome cell,
ffrom the deepe abisse of hell,
madd Tom is come into the world againe
to see if hee can ease his distempered braine

ffeare & dispayre pursue my soule!
harke how the angry ffuryes howle!
Pluto laughes, proserepine is gladd
to see poore naked Tom of Bedlam madd

through woods I wander night and day
to seeke my stragling sences;
In an angrye mood I ffound out time
w i th his Pentarchye of tenses.

when mee he spyes, away hee fflyes;
time will stay ffor no man;
In vaine w i th cryes hee rends the skyes,
pitty is not com m on.

Cold & comfortlesse I lye
helpe, oh helpe! or else I dye.

harke! I heere Appolloes teeme,
the Carman 'gins to whistle;
Chast Dyana bends her browe,
the bore begins to bristle.

Come, vulcan, w i th tooles & w i th takells,
& knocke of my troublesome shakells!
bid Charles make ready his waine
to ffeitch my ffiue sences againe

Last night I heard the dogstar barke,
Mars mett venus in the darke;
Limping vulcan heates an Iron barr,
& ffuryouslye runs att the god of warr.

Mars w i th his weapons layd about,
but vulcans temples had they gout,
ffor his broad hornes did hang soe in his light
tha t hee cold not see to aime arright.

Mercurye, the nimble post of heauen,
stayd to see this quarrell
gorreld-bellyed Bacchus, gyant-like
bestryds a strong beere barrell:

to me he dranke, [I did him thanke,
but I cold gett noe Cyder;
hee dranke] whole butts till hee burst his gutts;
but mine were neere the wyder.

poore naked Tom is verry drye;
a litle drinke, ffor charitye!

hearke! I heare Acteons hounds
the huntsmen woopp and hallowe;
Ringwood, Royster, Bowman, Iowler,
all the chase doe ffollowe.

the man in the moone drinkes Clarrett,
eates pouthered beeffe, turnipp & Carrett;
a cup of old Maligo sacke
will ffire the bush att his backe