Classic Poem

I.

I'm as Mad as you'd have me;
If you'll not believe me,
I'll tear off my own Clothes and yours;
Like a Frantic at Night,
If I spy any Light
In your Room, I'll break down your Doors.

II.

I am Mad, till you strip me,
With your bare Hand too whip me,
Can speak Sense in Love now, no more;
But am pleas'd with my Pain,
And am proud of my Chain;
Wou'd have none, my Wits to restore.

III.

So you will ne'r recover
Me, your sensless, mad Lover,
With Hardships you make one endure;
Nor will Fasting for Love,
Any Help for mine prove,
My Fill of thee, wou'd be my Cure:

IV.

If me then your mad Lover,
You wou'd yet not give over,
But me from Love's Frenzy reclaim;
Then my Love-sick crack'd Brain,
Cure, with Wedlock's strong Chain;
No Mad-Love, but Marriage can tame:

V.

For as often as we see't so,
When two mad things meet too,
One's Madness does t'other's reprove;
So by Marrying me,
Which were Madness in thee,
Thou't Cure thy mad Pride, my mad Love.