Classic Poem

TEMPERANCE. OR THE CHEAP PHYSITIAN UPON THE TRANSLATION OF LESSIUS

Goe now; and with some daring drugg
Bait thy disease. And whilst they tugge,
Thou to maintain their pretious strife
Spend the dear treasures of thy life.
Goe, take physick: Doat upon
Some big-nam'd composition.
Th'Oraculous Doctor 's mystick bills;
Certain hard W ORDS made into pills,
And what at last shalt' gain by these?
Only a costlyer disease.

That which makes us have no need
Of physick, that's P HYSICK indeed.
Hark hither, Reader! wilt thou see
Nature her own physitian be?
Wilt' see a man, all his own wealth,
His own musick, his own health;
A man whose sober soul can tell
How to wear her garments well.
Her garments, that upon her sitt
As garments should doe, close and fitt;
A well-cloth'd soul; that's not opprest
Nor choak't with what she should be drest.
A soul sheath'd in a christall shrine;
Through which all her bright features shine;
As when a peice of wanton lawn
A thinne, aeriall veil, is drawn
Or'e beauty's face; seeming to hide
More sweetly showes the blushing bride.
A soul, whose intellectuall beames
No mists doe mask, no lazy steames.
A happy soul, that all the way
To H EAVN rides in a summer's day.
Wouldst' see a man, whose well-warm'd blood
Bathes him in a genuine flood!
A man, whose tuned humors be
A set of rarest harmony?
Wouldst' see blith lookes, fresh cheekes beguil
Age? wouldst see december smile?
Wouldst' see nests of new roses grow
In a bed of reverend snow?
Warm thoughts, free spirits flattering
Winter's selfe into a S PRING ?

In summe, wouldst see a man that can
Live to be old, and still a man?
Whose latest and most leaden houres
Fall with soft wings, stuck with soft flowres;
And when life's sweet fable ends,
Soul and body part like freinds;
No quarrells, murmurs, no delay;
A K ISSE , a S IGH , and so away.
This rare one, reader, wouldst thou see?
Hark hither; and thy self be H E .