The Kiss of Cure
or: The Tooth-Ache Cured by a KissBy Thomas CarewFate’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.
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.
Last year’s A to Z post: Keep on Kidding
Feel free to follow on GooglePlus and Twitter. You are also invited to join this writer's fan page, as well as the Chicago Etiquette Examiner, Madison Holidays Examiner, Equestrian Examiner and Madison Equestrian Examiner on Facebook.
The Cavalier’s Kiss
By Frederic Soulacroix
Public Domain/Wikipedia Commons
Favorite Classic Poems
Adapted from ClipArt ETC