Classic Poem

PERFORMED AT COVENT-GARDEN , 1797.

I F invalids possess but faith and wealth,
They'll find a nostrum to restore their health;
A panacea, advertised to cure
Each ill the human body can endure!
But our bold author claims a nobler art,
And advertises to relieve — the heart.
So many patients he expects to see,
That I'm appointed as his deputy:
Now, then, your mental maladies explain,
And I'll remove or mitigate the pain.
Does love or jealousy, your peace molest?
Revenge inflame? ambition gnaw your breast?
For jealousy a sov'reign balm behold,
The husband's certain cure — a pill of gold;
This dose, administer'd with prudent care,
Dispels at once the frailties of the fair;
Deprives the Proctor of his Crim. Con. fee,
And tunes the chord that jarr'd to harmony.
Should love torment some Romeo's heated brain,
Or agonize a Juliet's breast with pain;
Let them my potent remedy apply,
The maid shall cease to pine, the youth to sigh!
Gold shall restore each drooping lover's health,
And passion find a substitute in wealth.
But let not ill-tim'd ridicule degrade
What heav'n, when well applied, a blessing made:
To foster merit wheresoever found,
And with improvement cheer a country round;
To feed the hungry, and to clothe the poor,
And send the beggar happy from the door;
To mitigate the horrors of despair,
And make the family of want his care;
To succour genius drooping in distress,
Making the business of his life to bless!
When the rich man can such employment find,
We wish his purse as ample as his mind!
For one poor patient I've an anxious fear,
And you must be his kind physicians here:
Our author has to night so much at stake,
He finds his throbbing heart inclin'd to ache!
But should his play a lib'ral audience please,
Your warm applause will set his heart at ease.