A POEM, &c.
89
How hard was then his Task, at once to be,
What in the Body natural we see;
Mans Architect distinctly did ordain
The charge of Muscles, Nerves, and of the Brain,
Through viewless Conduits Spirits to dispense
The Springs of Motion from the Seat of Sense.
'Twas not the hasty product of a day,
But the well ripened Fruit of wise delay.
He like a patient Angler, er'e he stroak,
Would let them play a while upon the hook.
Our healthful food the Stomach labours thus,
At first embracing what it strait doth crush.
Wise Leeches will not vain Receipts obtrude,
While growing Pains pronounce the Humors crude:
Deaf to complaints they wait upon the Ill,
Till some safe Crisis authorize their Skill.
Nor could his Acts too close a Vizard wear,
To scape their Eyes whom Guilt had taught to fear,
And guard with caution that polluted nest,
Whence Legion twice before was dispossest.
Once Sacred house, which when they entr'd in,
They thought the place could sanctifie a sin;
What in the Body natural we see;
Mans Architect distinctly did ordain
The charge of Muscles, Nerves, and of the Brain,
Through viewless Conduits Spirits to dispense
The Springs of Motion from the Seat of Sense.
'Twas not the hasty product of a day,
But the well ripened Fruit of wise delay.
He like a patient Angler, er'e he stroak,
Would let them play a while upon the hook.
Our healthful food the Stomach labours thus,
At first embracing what it strait doth crush.
Wise Leeches will not vain Receipts obtrude,
While growing Pains pronounce the Humors crude:
Deaf to complaints they wait upon the Ill,
Till some safe Crisis authorize their Skill.
Nor could his Acts too close a Vizard wear,
To scape their Eyes whom Guilt had taught to fear,
And guard with caution that polluted nest,
Whence Legion twice before was dispossest.
Once Sacred house, which when they entr'd in,
They thought the place could sanctifie a sin;
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