The poem is anonymous. This is a diplomatic transcription of the edition of 1665.
| There’s none so ignorant, I hope, but knowes, | ||
| Medicines are good, as well in Verse, as Prose; | ||
| Therefore consulting with my Thoughts, I found, | ||
| A rare Receipt° to make th’ Infected sound:° | prescription — healthy | |
| 5 | And knowing that the Almighty doth forbid, | |
| In Times of Dangers, secrets should be hid; | ||
| I thought it was my Duty to make known, | ||
| This Cath’lick° Medicine unto every one; | universal | |
| That so their sad Distempers° may be heal’d, | illnesses | |
| 10 | By what (if Heav’n permits) shall be reveal’d; | |
| The cruel nature of this sad Disease, | ||
| Is so outragious, that if speedy ease | ||
| Be not Prescrib’d, the Patient must be lost, | ||
| But here’s a medicine without Price, or Cost; | ||
| 15 | Therefore let those that are inclin’d to be | |
| My willing Patients, read, observe, and see | ||
| What my Prescriptions are, they shall be good, | ||
| And very cheap, not hindring them from food | ||
| Or honest labour; neither need they doubt | ||
| 20 | Restraint, but may with courage go about | |
| Lawfull Occasions; therefore without a Bribe, | ||
| Harken with patience, whilst I thus Prescribe; | ||
Receipt.° |
prescription | |
| Warm Tears, distilled from a pensive Heart, | ||
| With herb-of-grace, mixt with divinest art, | ||
| 25 | Prepar’d in th’morning when the Light begins | |
| To shew it self, not gathered in our Sins; | ||
| But when the Sun of Grace hath spread his Rayes, | ||
| Then we must Gather it, and keep’t with praise: | ||
| It must be laid, where neither Aire of Lust, | ||
| 30 | Nor Heat of Envy, nor th’injurious Rust | |
| Of Malice can come near it, nor the Breath | ||
| Of Covetuousness infect, for sudden Death | ||
| Will seize upon it, if we take not heed. | ||
| ’Tis also good (if possible) to Bleed, | ||
| 35 | Both at the Eyes, and Heart, for if those veins | |
| Be not well breathed, the Physitians pains | ||
| Will prove invalide; If occasion urge, | ||
| The Patient must b’ advis’d to take a Purge, | ||
| Or else a Vomit; When th’ infected Blood | ||
| 40 | Is clens’d, a pleasant Cordial will be good; | |
| But let the Patient not forget to call, | ||
| With Thanks, unto the Sacred Hospitall; | ||
| And then he may with covrage be assur’d | ||
| The worst is past, and his Distemper° cur’d: | disease | |
| 45 | And if he keep a well composed Will, | |
| He need not fear th’ Apothecaries° Bill; | pharmacist’s | |
| Each Item’s a Receipt,° and all his Cost, | prescription | |
| Returns to Profit, nothing can be lost | ||
| But the Disease, which the great Chyron cures; | ||
| 50 | Whilst the Physitian all the pain indures. | |
| Oh happy Patient (if the Doctor please) | ||
| ’Tis Health to fall in love with thy Disease ! | ||
| Oh teach me to be Sick, or I will make | ||
| My self a Patient for the Doctors sake! | ||
| 55 | Oh! who is he that would not be content | |
| With a Disease, to be his Patient ? | ||
| He has an Antidote, that can expell | ||
| All Griefs; ’tis dangerous sickness to be well: | ||
| Oh make me sick to Death (I mean) of Sin, | ||
| 60 | That having done, my Doctor may begin; | |
| Without all doubt, that Patient needs must thrive, | ||
| That makes Affliction his Preparative: | ||
| Oh! who would not Adore so blest a God ? | ||
| Good natur’d Children often kiss the Rod: | ||
| 65 | And so, let us with Patience learn t’indure | |
| Our own Distempers, and not doubt the Cure; | ||
| The Grand Physitian will not spare his Skill, | ||
| If we submit our selves unto his Will; | ||
| The more our Patience labours to endure, | ||
| 70 | The sooner will he make a perfect Cure; | |
| The sacred Scriptures this rare Cordial° gives, | heart medicine | |
| To let us know that our Redeemer lives: | ||
| He lives, who by his living gives us breath, | ||
| He dy’d, and we are living by his Death: | ||
| 75 | Thus both in Life and Death we must confess, | |
| That He’s the Author of our Happiness; | ||
| He is that God, whose Cross must be our Crown, | ||
| Whose shame our honour, whose reproach, renown; | ||
| His Blood must be our Bath, his Wounds, our Cure; | ||
| 80 | For ’tis his Certainty that makes us Sure: | |
| Then let us like the Ninevites° be found, | warned by Jonah of coming plague | |
| Whose true Repentance made them truly sound: | ||
| Though as (like careless Jonas ) now we lye | ||
| In the Whales-belly of our Sins; let’s cry | ||
| 85 | As Jonas did, and Heav’n will soon advance, | |
| And bless us with a quick Deliverance: | ||
| Delayes are dangerous, ’tis therefore good | ||
| To take a Remedy, before the Blood | ||
| Be quite infected, ’tis a sign the Cure | ||
| 90 | Is difficult, and will not long endure | |
| A Physicall oppose, let’s therefore strive | ||
| To quallifie it by a Corrosive. | ||
| A Bath of Tears is good, and will expel | ||
| The black diseases of an Infidel; | ||
| 95 | The Chymistry of sighs, and doubled groans, | |
| Will melt those hearts, which sin hath turn’d to stones. | ||
| But one thing more is singularly good, | ||
| The dear Remembrance of our Saviours Blood; | ||
| Nor will it be unto our Souls a loss, | ||
| 100 | To take the Lignum vitæ° of his Cross; | wood of life |
| And that sick-Soul that knows how to procure | ||
| The Balm of Gilliad, may (by Faith) asure | ||
| Himself a Remedy, Tears mixt with Rue, | ||
| Will make the Patient bid his Grief adue. |