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May (thou safe Lord of Arts) each Spring
Ripe plenty of Diseases bring
Unto the Rich; they still t'our Surgeons be
Experiments, Patients alone to thee:
Health, to the Poore; lest pitty shou'd
(That gently stirs, and rules thy blood)
Tempt thee from wealth, to such as pay like mee
A Verse; then thinke, they give Eternity.
Ripe plenty of Diseases bring
Unto the Rich; they still t'our Surgeons be
Experiments, Patients alone to thee:
Health, to the Poore; lest pitty shou'd
(That gently stirs, and rules thy blood)
Tempt thee from wealth, to such as pay like mee
A Verse; then thinke, they give Eternity.
To
