IT'S all up I may tell you, good Thomas Barlow, The new medicine is wholly broken and done for: You must give up Profession and College, Barlow. Your fine @3Address,@1 man, @3on the basis of treatment,@1 So practical so blindly hopeful of progress, 'Tis but delusion; all is ended and done for. For lately Stephen Coleridge in a current Monthly Has wittily in a few words the system exploded. Better retire and leave the stage, my dear Barlow. You've been accustom'd in matters of importance To look to me to give you earliest tidings; So I devote a penful of little scazons To write the dirge of medicine and modern science. The wonder is how nearly both of us miss'd it: Nor would any whisper'd hint of it have ever reach'd me, Had not the well-deserving excellent author Most kindly frank'd me a copy of his dissertation. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY PRETTY ROSE TREE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS by GREGORY I THE HARLEM DANCER by CLAUDE MCKAY THE OLD MAN AND JIM by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE QUEEN'S RIDE; AN INVITATION by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE FROZEN GRAIL (TO PEARY AND HIS MEN) by ELSA BARKER STANZAS TO AN AFFECTIONATE AND PIOUS PARENT, ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD by BERNARD BARTON VERSES TO HER WHO IS JUSTLY ENTITLED TO THEM by BERNARD BARTON |