University of Virginia Library

THE CHEAP PHYSICIAN.

“That which makes us have no need
Of physic, that's physic indeed.
Hark, hither, reader, wilt thou see
Nature her own physician be?
Wilt see a man all his own wealth,
His own music, his own health,—
A man whose sober soul can tell
How to wear her garments well:
Her garments that upon her sit,
As garments should do, close and fit;
A well-clothed soul that's not oppressed,
Nor choked with what she should be dressed;
A soul sheathed in a crystal shrine,
Through which all her bright features shine,
As when a piece of wanton lawn,
A thin, aerial veil is drawn
O'er beauty's face, seeming to hide,
More sweetly shows the blushing bride:
A soul, whose intellectual beams
No mists do mask, no lazy streams;
A happy soul that all the way
To heaven rides in a summer's day?
Wouldst see a man whose well-warmed blood
Bathes him in a genuine flood,—
A man whose tuned humors be
A seat of rarest harmony?
Wouldst see blithe looks, fresh cheeks beguile
Age; wouldst see December smile?
Wouldst see nests of new roses grow
In a bed of reverend snow?
Warm thought, free spirits flattering
Winter's self into a spring?
In sum, wouldst see a man that can
Live to be old, and still a man
Whose latest and most leaden hours
Fall with soft wings, stuck with soft flowers;
And when life's sweet fable ends,
Soul and body part like friends;
No quarrels, murmurs, no delay,
A kiss, a sigh,—and so away,—
This rare one, reader, wouldst thou see?
Hark within, and thyself be he.”