The moon’s my constant mistress,
And the lonely owl my marrow;
The flaming drake and the night crow make
Me music to my sorrow.
The spirits white as lightning
Would on my travels guide me
The stars would shake and the moon would quake
Whenever they espied me.
And then that I’ll be murdering
The Man in the Moon to the powder
His staff I’ll break, his dog I’ll shake
And there’ll howl no demon louder.
With a host of furious fancies,
Whereof I am commander,
With a burning spear and a horse of air
To the wilderness I wander.
By a knight of ghosts and shadows
I summoned am to tourney
Ten leagues beyond the wide world’s end-
Methinks it is no journey.
— Tom O’ Bedlam