Classic Poem

Has any young profligate been so perverse,
To slay his old grandsire in wrath;
Why let him eat garlick (not hemlock is worse)
What stomachs have clowns to their broth!
O what is this poison that's burning within?
Has venom of vipers infus'd
Deceiv'd me! or, as the reward of my sin,
Canidia the viands abus'd!
Medea, beyond all the Argonaut wights,
When she captain Jason bespoke;
She made him take this as an unction of nights,
Before the wild bulls cou'd be broke.
With this she prepar'd certain presents she made,
A desp'rate revenge in her view;
And having Creusa to take them betray'd,
Away on her dragon she flew.
Sure ne'er on the thirsty Apulia before,
Arose such a muggy offence;
Nor did the gift-shirt that poor Hercules wore,
Stock closer or burn more intense.
If ever such stuff you again shou'd affect,
With a trick and a jest in your head;
May your wife, hand to mouth, your fond kisses reject,
Or lie on the post of the bed.