Classic Poem

intended to have been spoken by Mr. Woodward at his
benefit, in the character of the Old Mock Doctor, to
introduce the New one.

Too long by dint of dress and force of face,
And all th' hypocrisy of grave grimace;
Have Paeon's sons attracted vulgar eyes,
And made themselves conspicuous by disguise .
But now with heart-felt worth, and conscious pride,
WE ARE OURSELVES, and throw the mask aside
The slow, — funereal — sober — solemn pace,
Turns to the WADDLE, and the sliding grace;
That look, which death denounces, or defies;
The gape-distended mouth, and half-shut eyes,
No longer please — but in their place are seen
The smiles so soft! so simple! so serene !
Life's a disease we all a while endure,
And which most doctors seldom fail to cure
But wou'd you with politeness lose your breath,
And go genteely to the realms of death?
The BEAU PHYSICIAN stands the first in place,
And hands you off with elegance and grace.
Therefore no more this mockery I'll wear,
This compound strange of phiz, and cane, and hair.
Deceiving now's a trite, and trivial task,
He's the best cheat, who bravely scorns a mask.
But let not wits mistake our true intent,
Nor think that spleen , where only mirth is meant
We reverence virtue in the truly good,
And honour Science, where she's understood.
But if in this refin'd judicious age,
There are MOCK-DOCTORS acting off the stage,
We must be pleasant, and we must be free,
And pay derision as their lawful fee;
Whether they wait at Opulency's door,
Or do they charitably kill the poor,
To give them up to ridicule's our plan,
But shou'd suspicion mark some single man,
Let that same doctor in his turn be free,
And as a brother-actor laugh at me