University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Original poems on several subjects

In two volumes. By William Stevenson

collapse sectionI. 
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A QUESTION:
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse sectionII. 
collapse section 
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

A QUESTION:

Sacred to the learned body of Quacks.

Doctors, except just now and then,
Seem longer-liv'd than other men,
Though largely they, like all, great sinners,
Indulge at suppers, and at dinners,
And, from restraints like others freed,
In the non-naturals exceed.

266

Give then, philosophers, the reason,
Why them thus Death delays to seize on.
Death spares the doctor, grave and prim,
For his great usefulness to him.
For one he thus in kindness leaves,
A thousand yearly he receives.
But when Disease, though oft he mock'd her,
Him useless makes, death cures the doctor.
Alternate thus, the fee once sure,
Death and the doctor kill and cure.
Hail! living monitors and sage,
To a vain, frolic, vitious age!
With taking manner to behave,
You to yourselves assume the Grave
Hail worthies of the Coan tribe!
What pen your triumphs can describe,
Your triumphs vast, when illness seizes,
O'er purses, patients, and—diseases!
Nor angry at a brother be,
Heav'n mortal foes design'd these three;
Who mutual work each other's fall,
You wisely then destroy them all;
For thus, howe'er the squabble rose,
They cease for ever to be foes.