1 WITH bounteous hand the gracious King of heaven
2 His choicest blessings to mankind hath given,
3 Whilst thoughtless they ungratefully despise
4 The rich profusion that salutes their eyes.
5 But wise was he who study'd every use
6 Of common weeds which common fields produce.
7 The dock, the nettle, in each swelling vein,
8 A healing balm for many an ill contain:[Page 85]
d See a pamphlet lately published by Mr. Gataker, where its virtues are with great candour and judgment display'd. Ev'n deadly nightshade, tho' with poison fraught,
10 At length is found a salutary draught.
11 The same creative power that first display'd
12 His wond'rous works for our delight and aid;
13 His love to mortal man still gracious shows,
14 In ev'ry stream that glides, and herb that grows.
15 At his command, Malvern, thy mountains rise,
16 And catch their dewy nectar from the skies;
17 At his command gush out thy crystal rills,
18 To cure the direful train of human ills.
19 On all alike their influence freely shed,
20 As the bright orb that gilds thy mountain's head.
21 The wealthy squire, whose gouty limbs are laid
22 On beds of down, almost of down afraid,
23 At this balsamic spring may soon regain
24 His lavish'd health, and o'er the spacious plain
25 Pursue the hare, or chace the miscreant fox
26 With winged speed o'er hills or craggy rocks.
27 Here to his comfort the poor helpless swain,
28 Rack'd with the torture of rheumatic pain,
29 Obtains relief without the nauseous pill,
30 Or that more shocking sight the doctor's bill.
31 When cloudy mists obscure the visual ray,
32 And turn to dismal night the gladsome day;
33 The mournful wretch with pleasure here may find
34 A stream that heals the lame, and cures the blind.[Page 86]
35 The pamper'd cit, whose high luxurious food
36 With acrimonious poison loads his blood,
37 Here polished once more his scaly skin,
38 And purifies the vital stream within.
39 Amazing truth! his wretched leprous heir,
40 Who undeserv'd his father's spots must wear,
41 Emerges clean if in this fount he lave,
42 As the white Syrian rose from Jordan's wave.
43 The latent ulcer, and the cancer dire,
44 That waste our flesh with slow consuming fire,
45 Whose subtle flames still spread from part to part,
46 And still elude the skilful surgeon's art;
47 Here check'd submit, their raging fury laid,
48 By streams from Nature's mystic engine play'd.
49 The stubborn evil, for whose flux impure
50 Blind bigotry at first devis'd a cure,
51 Heal'd by these waters needs no more demand
52 The foolish witchcraft of a Stuart's hand;
53 And Brunswick's line may trust their royal cause
54 To reason, justice, liberty, and laws.
55 Should all the virtues of this spa be told,
56 Its praises might be wrote in lines of gold.
57 No more would poets their Pierian spring,
58 But Malvern spa in loftier numbers sing;
59 No more Parnassus, but the Malvern climb,
60 To make their diction pure, their thoughts sublime.
61 Ev'n I at these fair fountains eas'd of pain,
62 To you, my friend, address one votive strain:[Page 87]
63 To you the Naiad of this balmy well
64 Reveals the wonders of her secret cell:
65 To you transfers the lay, whose active mind,
66 Like her own stream frome
e See a treatise lately published by doctor Wall, concerning the extreme purity of the water, and its great efficacy in several obstinate chronical disorders. earthly dregs resin'd,
67 Explores a panacea for mankind.