The Snow-Drop Part 15

Emetics reduce you, and tonics distress, While morphine distracts you and seldom gives rest.

Now leave him, Oh, leave him! your life he'll not save; Except you obey me, you'll sink to the grave.

Come, leave all the doctors; resort to the shops Which peddle pills, balsams, elixirs and drops; Each cures ev'ry malady whenever used, Altho' by base slander they're greatly abus'd.

I hate these vile patents; they often make worse; Hear my good advice, let your mother be nurse; Ten thousand rare medical plants grow around.

Their ne'er failing virtues old women have found.

There's catfoot and mugwort, archangel and balm, Possessing great virtues, and never do harm; While spleenwort, and whiteweed, and hyssop, and sage, Have cured the consumption in every stage.

Take saffron and goldthread, white poplar and rue, They've cured the dyspepsia wherever they grew; Use clover and nightshade, and drink wintergreen, They'll cure the worst cancer that ever was seen.

But I have no faith in these simple herb teas They never can lessen or cure a disease; And do not take pills, nasty powders and drops, Till you are filled up like the medical shops.

Still, something is needful, of that I am sure, But I've the most faith in the cold water cure; 'Twill strengthen, invigorate, open the pores, 'Tis curing sick people by dozens and scores.

Don't wrap yourself up in that cold dripping sheet, I always take cold, only wetting my feet; Yet there is an agent which I would apply, The red forked lightning which darts through the sky.

Old Franklin has tamed it and brought it to earth, And men are now learning how much it is worth; 'Twill dart through the stomach, the heart, and the brain, Each pore it will open and drive out the pain.

Come, quit all this fussing, take rich hearty food, And soon, I a.s.sure you, your health will be good; Leave your warm stifling beds, your soft cus.h.i.+oned chair, Run ten miles a day in the cool healthful air.

If I went thus, moping and lounging about, 'Twould bring on dyspepsia, consumption, or gout; Now here is good counsel, why will you be shy, You'd much better take it than lie down and die.