A WELCOME TO WINTER.
BY A POET WHO BELONGS TO THE MEDICAL PROFESSION.
Hail, Winter! Hail, and show, and rain!
Send forth thy storms o’er earth again:
Come frost and fog! Come slush and sleet!
That he who talks may get wet feet.
Blow, wintry winds! Blow cold an keen,
And let no warming sun be seen;
So that, despite their thickest coats,
Whoe’er go out may get sore throats.
Inclement time! the chills prepare
To which wear human flash is heir:
Let muggy mist, and noxious damp,
Breed ague, asthma, cough, and cramp.
Rude Boreas, cease not to blow,
And lay the halest mortals low:
Bite ‘em, and spite ‘em, pinch ‘em, friz ‘em,
And rack their limbs with rheumatism!
Bronchitis, thy dread darts prepare,
And Influenza fill the air:
An evil wind still bloweth good,
For fevers are to doctors food.
Sciatia, tic-doloureux,
With your worst terrors man pursue;
Long sickness lengtheneth our bills,
We live by what our neighbours kills.
So, Winter, hail! and snow! and freeze!
And by foul weather swell our fees:
The heavy head, the light catarrh,
To doctors meat and raiment are.
Back to The True Aristocracy. <<< — >>> Next to THE POPE IN A FIX.
