Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, VIRGIDEMIAE: BOOK 2: SATIRE: 4, by JOSEPH HALL

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VIRGIDEMIAE: BOOK 2: SATIRE: 4, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Worthy were galen to be weigh'd in gold
Last Line: Purchaseth realmes, and life prolonged brings.
Subject(s): Death; Health; Life; Socrates (470-399 B.c.); Dead, The

VVorthy were Galen to be weigh'd in Gold,
Whose helpe doth sweetest life & health vphold
Yet by S. Esculape he solemne swore,
That for diseases they were neuer more,
Fees neuer lesse, neuer so little gaine,
Men giue a groat, and aske the rest againe.
Groats-worth of health, can any leech allot?
Yet should he haue no more that giues a grote.
Should I on each sicke pillow leane my brest,
And grope the pulse of euerie mangie wrest:
And spie out maruels in each Vrinall:
And tumble vp the filths that from them fall,
And giue a Dose for euery disease,
In prescripts long, and tedious Recipes:
All for so leane reward of Art and mee?
No Hors-leach but will looke for larger fee.
Meane while if chance some desp'rate patient die,
Cum'n to the Period of his destinie:
(As who can crosse the fatall resolution,
In the decreed day of dissolution:)
Whether ill tendment, or recurelesse paine,
Procure his death; the neighbors straight complaine
Th'vnskilfull leech murdred his patient,
By poyson of some foule Ingredient.
Here-on the vulgar may as soone be brought
To Socrates-his poysoned Hemlock-drought,
As to a wholsome Iulep, whose receat
Might his diseases lingring force defeat.
If nor a dramme of Triacle soueraigne,
Or Aqua vitae, or Sugar Candian,
Nor Kitchin-cordials can it remedie,
Certes his time is come, needs mought he die.
Were I a leech, as who knowes what may bee,
The liberall man should liue, and carle should die.
The sickly Ladie, and the goutie Peere
Still would I haunt, that loue their life so deere.
Where life is deare who cares for coyned drosse?
That spent, is counted gaine, and spared, losse:
Or would coniure the Chymick Mercurie,
Rise from his hors-dung bed, and vpwards flie:
And with glas-stils, and sticks of Iuniper,
Raise the Black-spright that burns not with the fire:
And bring Quintessence of Elixir pale,
Out of sublimed spirits minerall.
Each poudred graine ransometh captiue Kings,
Purchaseth Realmes, and life prolonged brings.

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