Physicians an envious band,

Shall snatch the young bays from your head, And wide o'er Columbia's land

The report of your shame shall be spread.

I'll tell the fair victims of love,

Who complain of the pangs they endure,
That the doctor of Hickory Grove
May wound, but he never can cure.

There is only one mean in your power,

To prevent this assemblage of ill,

Which is, that in this very hour

Bid the son of Latona prepare

A robe of cerulean dye,

Or a still brighter vestment of air,

And convey the young sage through the sky.

Then should he a recipe show

That will yield me contentment of mind,

On him the reward I'll bestow,

And I hope you won't take it unkind.

But alas! I have nothing to give

But my hand, and an innocent heart, Which he never would deign to receive Had I offered another a part.

AMANDA.

TO AMANDA.

Amanda, I cannot conceal

How much I respect and approve, The frankness, with which you reveal (Since you find you can't conquer) your love.

How many a fair one has pined,

Yet travelled through life all alone,
Before she 'd unburthen her mind,
Or make her uneasiness known!

But no longer shall custom prevail
In defiance of reason and sense:
Amanda has dared to assail

The monster, and banished him hence.

Disdaining the hypocrite's art,

She offers, explicit and clear,

To give up her hand and her heart,
The moment her swain shall appear.

Then Damon, ah! shorten thy stay,

Leave the East and its treasures behind;

This instant thy canvass display,

And fly on the wings of the wind.

What pleasure has man here below,
So ecstatic, so nearly divine?

As stemming the torrent of woe,

And that pleasure, blest youth! may be thine.

To the cell of the mourner repair,

The demon of anguish control,

Dispel the dark clouds of her care,

And whisper sweet peace to her soul.

ESCULAPIUS.

TO ESCULAPIUS.

Why so sanguine, good doctor, I pray?
Why flatter yourself and your friend,
That should he his canvass display,
Success would his voyage attend?

"T is a difficult science, he 'll find,
To engage in affairs of the heart;
And to yield me contentment of mind
Consists not in medical art.

That ease which I so much desire
No med'cine can ever bestow,
But the recipe I shall require

I will briefly endeavour to show:

Not a diet of gruel and salt,

To impoverish body and mind, But treatment that 's kind, to a fault, With respect and timidity joined.

A character, guileless and bright,
By weakness or folly unstained,
Generosity's heaven-taught flight,
By economy's caution restrained.

The softness, the spirit of youth,
The cool recollection of age,
An adherence to virtue and truth,
And the sacred historical page.

Strong sense, and a justness of thought, That will all my wild fancies improve, Ambition, with fortitude fraught,

And dignity softened by love.

A spirit no menace can bend,

Though mildness the point may secure,

A tear for the woes of a friend,

And a purse for the wants of the poor.

That physician, whoever he be,

Who will mix these ingredients with art, And present the blest compound to me,

Is worthy my hand and my heart.

But

pray what assurance have I

That your friend in the East can do this?

Yet you take it for granted, and cry

Come Damon, inherit the bliss!

It is but conjecture, at best,

That he is not an ignorant elf,

Who may prove, if he's brought to the test,
As arrant a quack as yourself.

TO AMANDA.

AMANDA.

Amanda, I beg you'll forgive my delay,
For believe me, the fault was not mine,

I would sooner have answered your beautiful lay,
But I wanted the help of the nine.