The Mad Man's Morris.  
Wherein you shall find  
His trouble and grief, and discontent of his mind,  
A warning to young men to have a care,  
How they in love entangled are.  
To a pleasant new Tune.  

 
 
 

Herded you not lately of a man,  
That went beside his wits,  
And naked through the streets he ran,  
Wrapped in his frantic fits?  
My honest neighbours it is I,  
Hark how the people flout me:  
See where the mad man comes they cry,  
With all the Boys about me.   

Into a pond stark naked I ran  
And cast my clothes away Sir,  
Without the help of any man  
Made shift to run away Sir,  
How I got out, I have forgot,  
I do not well remember,  
Or whether it was cold or hot,  
In june, or in December,   

Tom Bedlam's but a Sage to me,  
I speak in sober sadness,  
For more strange visions do I see,  
Then he in all his madness.  
When first this chance to me befell,  
About the market walked I,  
With Capon's feathers in my cap.  
And to myself thus talked I.   

Did you not see my Love of late,  
Like Titan in her glory?  
Do you not know she is my mate,  
And I must write her story,  
With pen of gold on silver leaf,  
I will so much befriend her;  
For-why, I am of this belief,  
None can so well commend her.   

Saw you not Angels in her eyes,  
While that she was a speaking,  
Smelled you not smells like Paradise,  
Between two Rubies breaking?  
Is not her hair more pure than gold,  
Or finest Spiders spinning:  
Me thinks, in her I do behold,  
My joys and woes beginning.   

Is not a dimple in her chéek,  
Each eye a star that's starting,  
Is not all grace installed in her,  
Each step all joys imparting?  
Me thinks I see her in a Cloud,  
With graces round about her:  
To them I cry and call aloud  
I cannot live without her.    

The second part  
to the same tune.  
 
 

THen raging towards the Sky I roar,  
Thinking to catch her hand,  
O then to love I call and cry,  
To let me by her stand,  
I look behind and there I see  
My shadow me beguile,  
And wish she were as near to me,  
Which makes my worship smile.   

There is not creature can compare  
With my beloved Nancy.  
Thus I build castles in the air,  
This is the fruits of fancy:  
My thoughts mount high above the Sky,  
Of none I stand in awe,  
Although my body here do lie  
Upon a pad of straw.   

I was as good a harmless youth  
Before base Cupid caught me,  
Or his own-mother with her charms  
Into this cage had brought me,  
Stripped and whipped now must I be  
In Bedlam bound with chains:  
Good people all, now you may see  
What love hath for his pains.   

When I was young as others are  
With Gallants did I flourish,  
O then was I the properest Lad  
That was in all the Parish!  
The bracelets which I used to wears  
About my arm so tender  
Are turned now to iron plates,  
About my body slender.   

My silken Suits do now decay,  
My caps of gold are vanished,  
And all my friends do wear away,  
As I from them were banished,  
My silver cups are turned to earth,  
I'm féered by every Clown,  
I was a better man by birth.  
Till Fortune cast me down.   

I'm out of frame and temper too,  
Though I am something cheerful,  
Oh this can love and fancy do,  
If that you be not careful!  
O set a watch before your eyes,  
Lest they betray your heart,  
And make you slaves to vanities,  
To act a mad man's part.   

Declare this to each mother's son,  
Unto each honest Lad,  
Let them not do ea I have done,  
Lest they like me grow mad,  
If Cupid strike, be sure of this,  
Let reason rule affection,  
So shalt thou never do amiss,  
By reasons good direction.   

I have no more to say to you,  
My keeper now doth chide me,  
Now must I bid you all adieu,  
God knows what will betide me,  
To picking straws now must I go,  
My time in Bedlam spending,  
Good folks you your beginning know  
But do not know your ending.    
Humphrey Crouch.  
FINIS.   

LONDON, Printed for Richard Harper in Smithfield.