STRAIT for ye Doctor send: That's thy first word, & hastiest care; When some Disease, or but ye fear Of it, hath made thee sick. And I commend Thy diligence, provided thou What thou allow'st thy self wilt but thyself allow. 2 Thy Minde's as much & more Thyself, than is thy Body: be Impartial then, & equalie At least dispense thy providences store; Especaly since thou mayst finde More than a Spittle of Diseases in thy Minde. 3 The Aigue of cold Fear Doth nip thee up; or Lusts dogdays A burning Fever in the rayse. The Boulimie of Avarice doth tear Thy restless ever-hungry heart, Or thou in Prodagalities Consumption art. 4 Pride's dangerous Tympanie Thee to a monstrous bulk doth swell; Or Drunkenesses Dropsie fill But not suffice thee: Curiositie With a wilde Itch doth hant thee, or The Gout of Lazines make thee unfitt to stirr. 5 Ah most diseased thing! And darst thou still forbear to fly To Physiks Sanctuary? Why, Since Fear of Dying thee so deep doth sting, Drawst thou securely thy short breath, Who ly'st just at the point of everlasting Death? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL TWO SONNETS: 1 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON FIRST BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 11 by THOMAS CAMPION FATHER LAND AND MOTHER TONGUE by SAMUEL LOVER IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 22 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE GIRLS' LOT by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS THE WATER-SPRINGS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |