Miscellanies in prose and verse on several occasions, by Claudero [i.e. James Wilson], son of Nimrod the Mighty Hunter. The Fourth Edition with large Additions |
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On laying the Foundation Stone of St. Bernard's Mineral Well,
15th September, 1760, lately found out near Edinburgh.
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 | Miscellanies in prose and verse |  |
On laying the Foundation Stone of St. Bernard's Mineral Well, 15th September, 1760, lately found out near Edinburgh.
No muse I invoke to help out my song,
The muses all flutter around in a throng;
A theme so delightful with transport they view,
And with their assistance my song I pursue.
Great Drummond improveth what nature doth send,
To country and city he's always a friend?
Regardless of junto's, his lordship pursues
The weal of the public in all that he does;
Unwearied he studies the good of the town,
And success his labours for ever must crown,
Tho' opposed of late by Bedlamite Tom,
Who ne'er could do good abroad nor at home;
And likewise by others of far better fame;
What views they had in it my muse shall not name.
The muses all flutter around in a throng;
A theme so delightful with transport they view,
And with their assistance my song I pursue.
Great Drummond improveth what nature doth send,
To country and city he's always a friend?
Regardless of junto's, his lordship pursues
The weal of the public in all that he does;
Unwearied he studies the good of the town,
And success his labours for ever must crown,
Tho' opposed of late by Bedlamite Tom,
Who ne'er could do good abroad nor at home;
And likewise by others of far better fame;
What views they had in it my muse shall not name.
With pity he saw the diseas'd without aid,
(Physicians do nothing unless they are paid)
Then straight thro' three kingdoms he sent for supply,
And rear'd up the structure, call'd Infirmary,
Where ev'ry disease that physicians can cure
Is instantly heal'd, for the rich or the poor.
When heav'n, propitious to grant his desire
To th'utmost extent his heart could require,
For the health of the poor sent this sanative well
A blessing to all that around it do dwell.
(Physicians do nothing unless they are paid)
Then straight thro' three kingdoms he sent for supply,
And rear'd up the structure, call'd Infirmary,
Where ev'ry disease that physicians can cure
Is instantly heal'd, for the rich or the poor.
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To th'utmost extent his heart could require,
For the health of the poor sent this sanative well
A blessing to all that around it do dwell.
This Water so healthful near Ed'nburgh doth rise,
Which not only Bath, but Moffat outvies.
Most diseases of nature it quickly doth cure,
Except the disease that is got from a whore.
It cleans the intestines, and appetite gives,
While morbific matter it quite away drives:
Its amazing effects cannot be deny'd,
And drugs are quite useless where it is apply'd:
So what Doctors can't cure is done by this Spring,
Reserv'd till this year of great Drummond's reign.
That as the foundation of one he did lay;
The other should likewise be put in his way,
His pious endeavours to crown in his day.
Which not only Bath, but Moffat outvies.
Most diseases of nature it quickly doth cure,
Except the disease that is got from a whore.
It cleans the intestines, and appetite gives,
While morbific matter it quite away drives:
Its amazing effects cannot be deny'd,
And drugs are quite useless where it is apply'd:
So what Doctors can't cure is done by this Spring,
Reserv'd till this year of great Drummond's reign.
That as the foundation of one he did lay;
The other should likewise be put in his way,
His pious endeavours to crown in his day.
Persevere still, Great Sir! and be not dismay'd,
Nor regard the harangues that against you are made.
Mad Tom loud may rave; he may curse, he may swear,
When with sinful Marg'ret he's quaffing his beer,
Cry out 'gainst your scheme for bringing in water,
And get posses of ale-wives to join in his clatter:
But the good of the city being your chief intent,
And on schemes for the public your mind being bent,
Despise the poor crew, go on with full speed,
And posterity surely will bless you when dead.
Nor regard the harangues that against you are made.
Mad Tom loud may rave; he may curse, he may swear,
When with sinful Marg'ret he's quaffing his beer,
Cry out 'gainst your scheme for bringing in water,
And get posses of ale-wives to join in his clatter:
But the good of the city being your chief intent,
And on schemes for the public your mind being bent,
Despise the poor crew, go on with full speed,
And posterity surely will bless you when dead.
| Miscellanies in prose and verse | |