The Irish Poet and the Natural World: An Anthology of Verse in English from the Tudors to the Romantics

Anonymous (1753)

246 ANONYMOUS (1753) This poem comes from a strange and interesting collection of poems, mostly the work of Church of Ireland clergymen, entitled The Ulster Miscellany. Though the book was printed in Dublin, several of the poems in the collection originated in county Donegal; others come from different parts of Ireland. This is more lighthearted than many of the surviving poems about eighteenth-century Irish spas, though it shows a protestant bias common at the time. A POEM on the Hot-Wells at Mallow Let Irish priests, who bring their faith from Rome, Strive to support it by their frauds at home; Of fiends exorcis’d by their charms and spells, And foul distempers heal’d at holy wells: All this their poor deluded vot’ries must (For dare they doubt their clergy?) take on trust. To such I leave these little tricks of art; Prompted by truth to act a nobler part: ’Tis solid truth, I, from experience sing, And can collat’ral proofs abundant bring. 10 Near Mallow, by a range of verdant hills, A fountain issues forth in plenteous rills, By nature tepid made, but from what cause! Let those enquire, who study nature’s laws. Perhaps with sulph’rous particles replete It may contract this subterraneous heat; But I shall wave what lies beyond my ken, And only in known truths employ my pen. This healing fountain far more virtue hath Than those at Bristol, or her sister Bath: 20 But has one fault; too near! ay quite too near, Else it, for fame, might vie with Montpelier. From the prodigious service it has done It might be justly stil’d Catholicon.1 1 247 Anonymous Do any ill-bred humours lurk within, Or in an itch, or scurvy blotch the skin? Do growing ulcers on the vitals prey, Or lungs corrupted hasten a decay? Do bileous juices make the blood move slow’r, Or in a jaundice tinge the body o’er? 30 Do giddy megrims2 cause the head to swim, Or sharp rheumatick pains torment a limb? Or scalding humours oozing from the head, Afflict the balls of sight, and turn them red? Then let the patient to this fountain haste, And find a perfect cure—probatum est.3 The gravel4 (not the least of human ills, For tho’ it kills but slow, it surely kills) Here finds a cure, this diuretick spring Dissolves the stone, dissolves the pungent sting. 40 How oft for death did rackt Hortensius5 call, When sanguine drops distain’d his urinal;6 He felt the gravel in its greatest force, When to this healing spring he had recourse: But there it vanish’d as it were by stealth, And left him happy in a flow of health. Attend ye lovers, while the muse records, The charming pleasures which the place affords; Here stands a wood bedeckt with summer’s pride, There the Blackwater rowls his dusky tide; 50 Here a canal of waters deep and clear, Whose spouting cascades please the eye and ear; headache, migraine. 2 i.e. it is proved. 3 i.e. stones in the urinary tract. 4 An imaginary name for a man suffering from kidney stones – possibly intended to remind 5 the reader of the Roman orator, Hortensius, who was a great lover of wine and a bon viveur. i.e. when drops of blood stained his urine. 6 248 While on the pebble walks fresh air you breath, Trees nod above, and fishes swim beneath. Musick in consort, from a side retreat, Gives life to all, and makes the scene compleat. At night a gay assembly, and a ball, Murphy’s sweet harp, and dancing closes all. ...