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The Remedy Worse Than the Disease
by
Matthew Prior


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I sent for Ratcliffe, was so ill,
That other doctors gave me over,
He felt my pulse, prescribed his pill,
And I was likely to recover.

But when the wit began to wheeze,
And wine had warm'd the politician,
Cured yesterday of my disease,
I died last night of my physician. 

This poem is in the public domain.

 

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British poet Matthew Prior (1664 – 1721) apprenticed as a tavern-keeper but received a scholarship to attend Cambridge and thus became a scholar and a diplomat rather than a bartender. He served as a gentleman, a secretary, a secret agent, and an ambassador, and was impeached and imprisoned by the opposition for two years, during which time he produced some quite cheerful verse. Though Prior’s love poems are a bit stiff, he had a true gift for wit and satire and his talent earned him a final resting place in Westminster Abbey.

 


Post New Comment:
gigi:
And in the 21st century, we have ads for drugs where someone—at an auctioneer's speed—lists the deadly side effects.
Posted 05/13/2015 01:53 PM
rhonasheridan:
Have suffered from the same thing!!
Posted 05/13/2015 12:46 AM
transitions:
Made me smile :)
Posted 05/12/2015 03:19 PM
KevinArnold:
Indeed, some "quite cheerful verse."
Posted 05/11/2015 11:21 PM


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