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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.
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Darrell Arnold:
Wit and humor would have to be strong underpinning of his life, if he could produce such "cheerful" verse such as this or similar to this while imprisoned for two years. Obviously, he made the best of his circumstances. I think I would have enjoyed this guy's company.
Posted 05/12/2025 08:53 AM
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transitions:
Made me smile :)
Posted 05/12/2015 03:19 PM
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KevinArnold:
Indeed, some "quite cheerful verse."
Posted 05/11/2015 11:21 PM
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