The Bedlam Schoolman.  
To a Delectable new Tune.  
 
 

Fancy.  
IN a Melancholy Fancy out of myself,  
Through the Welkin dance I:  
All the world surveying,  
No where staying,  
like the Fairy Elf:  
Over the tops  
of highest Mountains Skipping  
Through the Fields  
the Woods and Valleys tripping;  
Over the Ocean Seas  
without an Oar or Shipping,  
Hollow my fancy, whither wilt thou go?   

Answer.  
Feel the art led by thy Fancy, out of thy wits,  
For any thing I can see,  
Thou in thy fegary,  
Still doth vary,  
ever in frantic fits:  
What didst thou see  
when thou the Mountains skipped?  
What didst thou find  
when thou the Valleys tripped?  
Didst thou ere pass the Seas,  
and yet was never Shipped?  
Hollow my mad brains whither wilt thou go?   

Fancy.  
Amid the cloudy Vapours fain would I see,  
what be those burning tapors:  
That so much affrights us,  
And benight us,  
and what those Meteors be:  
Fain would I know  
what is the roaring thunder?  
And what those lightnings be  
which cleave the clouds in sunder,  
And what those Comets are,  
whereat men gaze and wonder,  
Hollow my fancy, whither wilt thou go?   

Answer.  
What hast thou learned of the Vapours,  
cold, moist, and dry:  
Or of those glorious tapors,  
That did ne'er fright us, but delight us,  
and so adorn the sky:  
What canst thou tell  
of Meteors or of thunder,  
Have not their legend  
rend thy wits in sunder?  
If Comets do appear,  
thou art a fool to wonder,  
Hollow my mad brains, whither wilt thou go?   

Fancy.  
Then did I look down below me,  
where I was on high,  
Wither any one did know me,  
The world was then a madding,  
Running and gadding.  
so I do pass them by:  
He that's above, he that's above despiseth,  
He that's below  
doth envy him that riseth,  
So every one his Plot,  
and Counterplot deviseth,  
Hollow my fancy etc.   

Answer.  
WAs not thy fancy be faulted;  
when in the air  
Thou were't exalted when thou look'st below thee  
Who 'tis that knows thee,  
Or who dost thou know there,  
what did the world there,  
Like thy fancy wander,  
running at random,  
Void of a Commander,  
I think with thy disease,  
some other thou dost slander,  
Hollow my mad brains whither wilt thou go?   

Fancy.  
See, see, what a buffling  
now I do behold,  
How they are justling,  
Evermore turmoy●ing,  
One another foiling,  
none do their stations hold:  
One sits musing,  
in a dumpish passion:  
Another is for Music,  
mirth, and recreation:  
Another hangs his head  
because he's out of fashion;  
Hollow my fancy whither wilt thou go.   

Answer.  
Was not thy fancy amazed  
the world to see?  
When thereon thou gazed:  
Thy wits they fell a running,  
Ever shunning  
the steps of certainty:  
There will be music  
if thou use thy brains man,  
And thou mayst have  
thy labour for their pains man?  
Of all thy fancies travels,  
show me now thy gains man:  
Hollow my mad brains, etc.   

Fancy.  
Ships, ships, ships, I descry now  
passing the Main;  
I'll go and try now,  
How they are protecting  
And projecting:  
when they'll return again?  
Some go to keep  
their Country from invading;  
Some go to Sea  
for Merchandise and trading:  
And some to take the air,  
(like Summer cattle shading)  
Hollow my fancy, etc.   

Answer.  
When thou surveyed the Ocean,  
didst thou perceive  
The reason of its motion:  
How it ebbs and floweth,  
And still moveth,  
didst thou the cause conceive?  
knowst thou the mind  
of every ships director:  
Then thou art fit  
to be some great Projector;  
I think that of thy wits  
thou scarcely are protector:  
Hollow thou mad brains, etc.   

Fancy.  
Hollow my fancy, hollow  
again to me:  
I can no longer follow  
Long time thou dost fly me,  
Still to try me,  
will it no better be?  
Come, come away,  
leave off by lofty soaring,  
Stay till at home  
and on thy Books be poring:  
For they that god abroad  
have still the less in storing,  
Welcome my fancy home again to me.   

Dost for thy fancy rove now?  
is she so wild:  
That she'll not endure now,  
For to keep her standing,  
At thy commanding,  
but hath thy hopes beguiled?  
Take my advice,  
and if thou canst forsake her,  
Never in thy whimsies,  
thus thy Goddess make her:  
But if she do return,  
for recreation take her:  
And welcome thy mad brains home, etc.    

Printed for F Coles T V●re and ● Wr●●ht.