Oh Chester, &c.
Then haste to the Well, both exotic and native,
A dip and a drink all your sorrows will root out;
Ye too who have groan’d ’neath the knife amputative,
Go plunge, and your heads, legs, et cet’ra, shall sprout out:
The tribe of empirics,
Shall howl in hysterics,
And man shall untortur’d fall into decay:
The pill and the potion,
The ungent and lotion,