I can't say much for his morality:
But for his immortality,
Good luck!
Why he's bound in calf, and squeezed in boards,
And scarcely a good library's shelf
But boasts acquaintance with the elf.
But now I'll tell you what I should have told before,
A grievous illness brought him nigh _Death's_ door.
Who, bony wight,
Enjoyed the sight--
And grinn'd as he thought of the fun there'd be
When the jester had joined his company.
Rab's friends, good folk!
Thought it no joke
To the poor joker; they therefore sent around
For all the Esculapians to be found;
And in a trice
(For doctors always haste to give advice--
Mind--don't mistake--I mean when there's a fee)
They mustered two--to which add three.
Now about the bed
Is seen each learned head.
The patient's pulse is felt--with graver air
Each M.D. seats him in a chair.
Crosses his legs--leans on his stick, mums--hahs--and hums
Pulls out his watch--takes snuff--and twirls his thumbs.
At length,
The awful stillness broke--
As if from silence gathering strength
Most lustily they all did croak,
Their opinions mingling,
In discordant jingling--
"A purge"--"a blister"--"shave his head"
"Senna and salts"--"a clyster"--"have him bled,"
"A pill at noon"--"another pill at night,"
"A warm-bath, sure, would set him right.
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