The Four Able Physicians

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You maidens and wives and young widows, rejoice,
Declare your thanksgiving with heart and with voice.
Since waters were waters, I dare boldly say,
There ne'er was such cause for a thanksgiving day.

For from London Town there's lately come down
Four able physicians that never wore gown.
Their physick is pleasant, their dose, it is large,
And you may be cured without danger or charge.

They have a new drug which is called the close hug,
Which will mend your complexions and make you look smug;
A sovereign balsam which, once well applied,
Though grieved at the heart, the patient ne'er died.

In the morning you need not be robbed of your rest
For in your warm beds your physick works best
And though, in the taking, some stirring's required,
The motion's so pleasant you cannot be tired.

On your backs you must lie with your body raised high
And one of these doctors must always be nigh
Who still will be ready to cover your warm,
For if you take cold all physick doth harm.

On silver and gold they never lay hold
For what comes so freely should never be sold;
Then join with the doctors and heartily pray
Their power of healing will never decay.

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