The bridge is drawn, the gate is barr'd, My father he has the keys, fir. But I have for my love prepar'd A fhorter way and eafier. Over the moate I've laid a plank 170 Then ftep a-crofs to the other bank, 175 Thefe words fhe had no fooner spoke, The plank was faw'd, it fnapping broke'; And fous'd the unhappy lover. 180 XVI. WHY XVI. WHY SO PALE? From Sir John Suckling's poems. This Sprightly knight was born in 1613, and cut off by a fever about the 29th vear of his age. See above, pag. 318. WHY fo pale and wan, fond lover? Prethee, why fo pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Prethee why fo pale ? Why fo dull and mute, young finner ? Prethee why fo mute? Will, when speaking well can't win her, Saying nothing doe't ? Prethee why fo mute? Quit, quit for fhame; this will not move, This cannot take her ; If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her. The devil take her! 15 XVII. OLD XVII. OLD TOM OF BEDLA M. MAD SONG THE FIRST. It is worth attention, that the English have more fongs and ballads on the fubject of madness, than any of their neighbours. Whether it is that we are more liable to this calamity than other nations, or whether our native gloominess bath peculiarly recommended fubjects of this caft to our writers, the fact is incontestable, as any one may be fatisfied, who will compare the printed collections of French, Italian Songs, &c. with thoje in our language. Out of a much larger quantity, we have selected half a dozen MAD SONGS for thefe volumes. The three firft are originals in their respective kinds; the merit of the three laft is chiefly that of imitation. They were written at confiderable intervals of time; but we have here grouped them together, that the reader may the better examine their comparative merits. He may confider them as fo many trials of fkill in a very peculiar fubject, as the conteft of jo many rivals to foot in the bow of Ulyfes. The two firft were probably written about the beginning of the last century; the third about the middle of it; the fourth and fixth towards the end; and the fifth within this prefent century. This is given from the editor's folio MS. compared with two or three old printed copies. With regard to the author of this old rhapsody, in Walton's Compleat Angler, cap. 3. is a fong 66 fong in praife of angling, which the author fays was made at his request by Mr. WILLIAM BASSE, one that bas "made the choice fongs of the HUNTER IN HIS CAREER, " and of Toм OF BEDLAM, and many others of note." p. 84. See Mr. HAWKINS's curious Edition, 8vo. of this excellent old Piece. ORTH from my fad and darksome cell, Or from the deepe abyffe of hell, Mad Tom is come into the world againe To fee if he can cure his distempered braine. Feares and cares oppreffe my foule : Through the world I wander night and day To feeke my ftraggling fenfes, In an angrye moode I mett old Time, With his pentarchye of tenfes : When me he spyed, Harke! I heare Apollo's teame, The carman 'gins to whistle; Chaft Diana bends her bowe, The boare begins to bristle. Come, Vulcan, with tools and with tackles, To knocke off my troublesome shackles ; Bid Charles make ready his waine To fetch me my fenfes againe. Last night I heard the dog-ftar bark ; Mars met Venus in the darke; 30 Limping Vulcan het an iron barr, And furiouflye made at the god of war: Mars with his weapon laid about, But Vulcan's temples had the gout, For his broad horns did fo hang in his light, 39 Mercurye the nimble poft of heaven, To mee he dranke, I did him thanke, But I could get no cyder ; 40 He |