46 Be mine," she said, “the calm of honest eyes, "Not in my service is the harvest won That gilds the child of barter and of trade That steady hand, that ever-pitying touch, Not in my helping shall be thus repaid. But I will take you where the great have gone, And I will set your feet in honor's ways; Friends I will give, and length of crowded years, 44 And crown your manhood with a nation's praise. These will I give, and more; the poor man's home, The anguished sufferer in the clutch of pain, The camp, the field, the long, sad, waiting ward, Watch for your kindly face, nor watch in vain; 64 For, as the sculptor years shall chisel deep Below your whitening hair the hurt shall read How well you learned what I my best have taught." The busy footsteps of your toiling stand And at your side, tonight, I see her still, The gracious woman, strong and tender-eyed. O stately Mistress of our sacred Art, Changeless and beautiful and wise and brave, Full fifty years have gone since first your lips To noblest uses pledged that forehead grave. As round the board our merry glasses rang, His pupil children bless his living light. What be the marriage-gifts that we can give? Love, honor, and obedience, troops of friends. D Doctor Munroe EAR Doctor, be clever, an' fling aff your beaver, Come, bleed me an' blister me, dinna be slow; I'm sick, I'm exhausted, my prospects are blasted, An' a' driven heels o'er head, Doctor Munroe!" "Be patient, dear fellow, you foster your fever; Pray, what's the misfortune that troubles you so?" "O, Doctor! I'm ruin'd, I 'm ruin'd forever My lass has forsaken me, Doctor Munroe! "I meant to have married, an' tasted the pleasures, Good sir, you 're a man of compassion, I know; He took out his lance, an' he sharpen'd it so; No judge ever look'd more decided or graver"I've oft done the same, sir," says Dr. Munroe. 46 For gamblers, rogues, jockeys, and desperate lovers, But I always make charge of a hundred, or so." The patient looked pale, and cried out in shrill quavers, The devil! do you say so, sir, Doctor Munroe?" 44 44 "O yes, sir, I 'm sorry there 's nothing more common; I like it--it pays-but, ere that length I go, A man that goes mad for the love of a woman 46 Why, thank you, sir; there spoke the man and the friend too, Death is the last reckoner with friend or with foe, The lecture, then, first, if you please, I 'll attend to; The other, of course, you know, Doctor Munroe." The lecture is said-How severe, keen, an' cutting, Smiled, capered, an' shook hands with Doctor Munroe. He still lives a bachelor, drinks when he 's thirsty, -JAMES HOGG. Fallopius to His Dissecting Knife WOW shalt thou have thy way, thou little blade, Fear not lest Mercy blunt thy edge, or make With any human hesitation shake; But thou shalt tell me why his life-blood ran Thus in his veins; what Life is; and shalt slake The thirst of thirsts that makes my cheek so wan. -Eugene Lee-Hamilton. B Y chance Doctor Bonomi An alchymist doctor whose fortunes were down, He hired a house, and affixed to the door Seen. The doctor was upright and stiff as a wall, And lean. Now into this house from a wagon was brought, Among the gazers, who deemed every drop Therefore the people kept back in the street Ready to beat an immediate retreat, Should the doctor a tendency show to be loading By fizzing. Some gazed in mute awe on his spectacles big, Were quizzing. Unheeding, the doctor paced solemnly round And vast. But when all his chattels were carried within To the last, The physician's grave features relaxed to a grin, And he said, "That will do; I think now I have nearly all For this little city, the needful material.” Now round with the speed of a fire, the report Of the squirts, the great bottles, the tubes, the retort Flew ; And from every quarter the inquisitive pour, Men, and of women, of course, a great store, Grew. Sudden, the crier emerged with a horn, The chief Has come, Psalmanazar Bonomi, Physician extraordinary to the King of Dahomy. In brief This alchymist-doctor of learn'd Salamanca The doctor sets plasters, lets blood, or gives doses, Applies leeches, pounds powders, rolls pills, spreads a blister; Far other, good people, the practice of Mister Bonomi. Don't dream, if you're ill, for this doctor to send, For certainly on you he will not attend. Whatever your malady, be well assured, You must not seek HIM, if you want to be cured. In Dahomy? No! he visits not prince, noble, burgher, or peasant. Of doctors and more |