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Wednesday

K is for The Kiss of Cure


British Cavalier poet Thomas Carew (1595-1622), growing up as one of 11 children in his family, became famous for his witty and often risqué metric poetry, often penned for the pleasure of the royal court.

The Kiss of Cure
or: The Tooth-Ache Cured by a Kiss
By Thomas Carew

Fate’s now grown merciful to men,
    Turning disease to bliss;
For had not kind rheum vext me then,
    I might not Celia kiss.
Physicians, you are now my scorn,
    For I have found a way
To cure diseases, when forlorn
    By your dull art, which may
Patch up a body for a time,
    But can restore to health
No more than chemists can sublime
    True gold, the Indies' wealth.
That angel sure that used to move
    The pool men so admired,
Hath to her lip, the seat of love,
    As to his heaven, retired.

Last year’s A to Z post: Keep on Kidding

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Image/s:
The Cavalier’s Kiss
By Frederic Soulacroix
19th Century
Public Domain/Wikipedia Commons
Favorite Classic Poems
Adapted from ClipArt ETC

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