 | The Third Part of the Works of Mr. Abraham Cowley
Being his Six Book of Plants |  |
Upon the same.
IN my Fire, that false Gold, the Jaundice, I [61]
Consume, (true Gold scarce does more injury.)
Black blood, at my command, the back-way flows;
Nasty it self through nasty holes it goes.
Choler and Phlegm yellow and white I drain,
They wear th'dear Metals colours both in vain. [62]
All Meteors from the eyes I drive away,
And whatso'er obscures the small Worlds day.
I of the Gout remove the very seed,
And all the humours which that torment breed.
Thorns, splinters, nails I draw, who wondering stand
How they could so come forth without an hand.
This is the least: all Poisons I expel,
And Death force thence, where it was like to dwell.
Infants that know not what it is to live,
Before they're wretched, from the Womb I drive.
Oh Heavens! says th'ignorant amazed world; What's this?
Is't a Distemper to be born? Yes, 'tis.
For if we make a true account, 'tis more
Advantage life to hinder than restore.
Consume, (true Gold scarce does more injury.)
Black blood, at my command, the back-way flows;
Nasty it self through nasty holes it goes.
Choler and Phlegm yellow and white I drain,
They wear th'dear Metals colours both in vain. [62]
All Meteors from the eyes I drive away,
And whatso'er obscures the small Worlds day.
I of the Gout remove the very seed,
And all the humours which that torment breed.
Thorns, splinters, nails I draw, who wondering stand
How they could so come forth without an hand.
This is the least: all Poisons I expel,
And Death force thence, where it was like to dwell.
Infants that know not what it is to live,
Before they're wretched, from the Womb I drive.
Oh Heavens! says th'ignorant amazed world; What's this?
Is't a Distemper to be born? Yes, 'tis.
For if we make a true account, 'tis more
Advantage life to hinder than restore.
| The Third Part of the Works of Mr. Abraham Cowley
Being his Six Book of Plants | |