The Poetical Entertainer Or, Tales, Satyrs, Dialogues, And Intrigues, &c. Serious and Comical. All digested into such Verse as most agreeable to the several Subjects. To be publish'd as often as occasion shall offer [by Edward Ward] |
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 | The Poetical Entertainer |  |
The Modish Quack:
OR Doctor Merryman's Panacea against all Melancholy Distempers.
[I]
Come all ye Ladies, who have lostYour Lovers, by your Folly;
And Maids, in your Affections cross'd,
Depress'd with Melancholy;
Unmarry'd Dames, with Bellies Great,
Fatigu'd to find a Father;
And Dowdies forc'd, in spight of Fate,
To keep your Legs together;
Ye Sighing old Fools,
And ye Cuckoldly Tools,
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Whilst your Wives are hugg'd close,
By young Spindle-shank'd Beaus,
In your Absence, behind the Curtain.
Chorus.
Be as sad and as mad as you please,Your Spirits, tho' cloudy, I'll clear up,
And infallibly give you all Ease,
With my Pills and a Glass of my Chear up.
II
Come all ye modern Saints, that wearReligion in your Faces,
And you that shew your sad Despair,
In dull austere Grimaces.
You Breaking Merchants, who repine,
For want of Coin and Credit,
And grieve that Trade should so decline,
When you so greatly need it:
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Who subsist by your Tails,
And ye diving Night-walkers and Bunters,
Who are stroling to Day,
Very Frolick and Gay,
And to Morrow, in Workhouse or Counters.
Chorus.
Be as sad, &c.III
Come all of High or Low Degree,That would be brisk and merry,
Tho' ne'er so sad, be rul'd by me,
I've Physick that will Chear ye:
My Golden Pills, so highly fam'd,
Throughout our British Nation,
So greatly priz'd, so richly nam'd,
For pow'rful Operation:
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You'll not fail of a Cure;
Be you never so dull they'll divert ye;
Tho' as pale in your Looks,
As a Punk in a Flux,
They will carry off all that can hurt ye.
Chorus.
Be as sad, &c.IV
Let Whig or Tory come to me,I'll cure 'em of the Simples;
And toaping Barren Ladies, free
From Vapours or from Pimples:
The wry-neck'd Zealot I can bring,
As strait as any Arrow,
And cause the humming Drone to sing,
And cherup like a Sparrow:
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For the Saint or his Bride,
Far exceeding the old Diapente,
That will raise a cross Witch
To an amorous Pitch,
And recover Old Age to be Twenty.
Chorus.
Be as sad, &c.V
Contending Parties I can bind,In friendship Everlasting;
And make a scolding Whore prove kind,
And honest, without Basting.
Nay, all Distempers in the State,
Or Madness in the Nation,
I cure with Ease, in spight of Fate,
Without the least Taxation;
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As adhere to the Dutch,
Or to those of the Chevalier's Party;
If they'll take my Advice,
They shall all, in a trice,
To the National Int'rest be hearty.
Chorus.
Be as sad, &c. | The Poetical Entertainer | |