The lunatick lover: or, The young man's call to Grim King of the ghosts for cure. To an excellent new tune. Licensed according to order. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B04266 of text R221330 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing L3485). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 3 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B04266 Wing L3485 Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.40.m.9.[53] Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.8[317] 99885271 ocm99885271 183461 2264212505

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. B04266) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 183461) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A3:2[56]; A5:2[252]) The lunatick lover: or, The young man's call to Grim King of the ghosts for cure. To an excellent new tune. Licensed according to order. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, in Pye-Corner, [London] : [between 1688-1695] Date and place of publication suggested by Wing. Verse: "Grim king of the Ghosts make hast ..." Imperfect: item at A3:2[56] cut and mounted; item at A5:2[252] trimmed, affecting imprint. Reproduction of original in the British Library. eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. eebo The lunatick lover: or, The young man's call to Grim King of the ghosts for cure. To an excellent new tune. Licensed according to order. anon 1695 1 484 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2008-04 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-08 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-10 Sampled and proofread 2008-10 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2009-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The Lunatick Lover : OR , The Young Man's Call to Grim King of the Ghosts for Cure . To an Excellent New Tune .

Licensed according to Order .

GRim King of the Ghosts make hast , and bring hither all your Train ; See how the pale Moon do's wast ! and just now is in the Wain : Come you Night-Hags with all your Charms , and Revelling Witches away , And hug me close in your Arms , to you my Respects I 'll pay . I 'll Court you and think you fair , since Love do's distract my Brain ; I 'll go and I 'll wed the Night-Mare , and kiss her and kiss her again . But if she proves peevish and proud , then a pise of her Love let her go , I 'll seek me a winding Shroud , and down to the Shades below . A Lunacy I endure , since Reason departs away , I call to those Hags for cure , as knowing not what I say : The Beauty whom I do adore , now flights me with scorn and disdain ; I never shall see her more , oh ! how shall I bear my pain ? I ramble and range about to find out my charming Saint , While she at my Grief do's flout , and smiles at my loud Complaint : Distraction I see is my Doom , of this I am too too sure ; A Rival is got in my room , while Torments I do endure . Strange Fancies doth fist my Head , while wand'ring in Despair , I am to the Desarts lead , expecting to find her there : Methinks in a spangl'd Cloud I see her enthron'd on high , Then to her I cry'd aloud , and labour'd to reach the Sky . When thus I have rav'd a while , and weary'd my self in vain , I lie on the barren Soil , and bitterly do complain ; Till Slumber hath quieted me , in sorrow I sigh and weep , The Clouds is my Canopy , to cover me while I sleep . I dream that my Charming Fair , is then in my Rival's Bed , Whose Tresses of golden Hair , is no the fair Pillows spread , Then this doth my Passion enflame , I start and no longer can lie : An ! Silvia , art thou not to blame in Ruine a Lover ? I cry . Grim King of the Ghosts be true , and hurry me hence away ; My languishing Life to you , as Tribute I freely pay : To the Elizium Shades I post , in hopes to be free from Care , Where many a bleeding Ghost is hovering in the Air.