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VIRGIDEMIAE: BOOK 2: SATIRE: 4, by JOSEPH HALL 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. | Other Poems of Interest...DOUBLE ELEGY by MICHAEL S. HARPER A FRIEND KILLED IN THE WAR by ANTHONY HECHT FOR JAMES MERRILL: AN ADIEU by ANTHONY HECHT TARANTULA: OR THE DANCE OF DEATH by ANTHONY HECHT CHAMPS D?ÇÖHONNEUR by ERNEST HEMINGWAY NOTE TO REALITY by TONY HOAGLAND |
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