University of Virginia Library

THE TWO LEECHES

TO MRS. CLUTTERBUCK.

On Chlora's temples, agoniz'd with pain,
The Doctors tried their art, but tried in vain;
Long they disputed about cold and heat,
The pang increasing whilst they fix its seat;
Some said 'twas from the teeth, some from the head,
Some counsell'd air, and some advis'd a bed:
This man of medicene shew'd a Sovereign Bill,
That gave a drop which conquer'd every ill;
Cold water one, another brandy hot,
Ten swore 'twas rheumatism, ten swore not;
Nostrums infalliable by loads she swallow'd,
But not one drop of promis'd comfort follow'd;
Drug, blister, bolus, lotion, potion, draught,
All things but ease the learned sages brought.
At length, unsluice rare beauties crimson tide,
Lovers of blood, two Leeches were applied;
The happy creatures, conscious of the place,
Sport round the regions of her charming face:
Now press the roses bleeding on her cheek,
Now in the lillies of her beauteous neck;
Their jelly lips luxuriously they steep,
And to the confines of her bosom creep,
There, where the whole Sorbonne might wish to rest,
They spot with blood the snow drop on her breast:
Thence to the fiery elements they rise
And madly dare the sun-beams of her eyes,
Presumptuous grown, hear those they fix at last,
But soon repent them of the rich repast.
From Chlora's cheek the fatal nectar came,
From Chlora's eyes shot forth the fatal flame;
Lovesick and blind at last they yield their breath,
Drank deep, look'd long, and tasted certain death;
Such streams, such fires unable to endure,
They fell by Chlora, yet were Chlora's cure;
Lovers beware, nor rashly come too nigh,
Nor hope to live where sanguine leeches die.