THE MAGIC DRAUGHT.
[Addressed to a young Lady who gave him Seltzer water to drink.]
BY DR. S. L. MITCHELL.
Brisk sparkled the liquid, most lively and fine, Transparent as amber, than crystal more pure, Appearing those qualities rare to combine, Adapted exactly his health to secure.
Pursuant to order, he drank in a trice, Full confidence in his physician he placed; For who that is favour'd with lady's advice Can ever refuse their prescriptions to taste?
Unconscious what mischief within it might lurk, He swallowed the doses again and again, Till he fancied within him a manifold work, Disturbing his heart and distracting his brain.
Suspecting, at last, from his feelings unus'd, A trick on his faith had been wantonly play'd, "Some philter or potion" he swore "was infused, Some magic or poison instilled by the maid."
"Not this a Nepenthe the mind to compose, Which Helen at Sparta employ'd in her feasts, But a draught such as Circe, the sorceress, chose, Transforming the drinkers to four-footed beasts."
"Not a worse composition did Shakspeare behold, Prepared in their cauldron by witches obscene, Nor were drugs more detested, as Hayley has told, Commix'd by the fiends when they conjur'd up Spleen."
Thus railing and raving, awhile he went on, Bethinking he soon must his testament make, When lo! all the terrible symptoms were gone, And his woful conjecture turn'd out a mistake.