The art of preserving health: A poemArmstrong, John
Philosophy
The art of preserving health: A poem
Armstrong, John
Health -- Early works to 1800; Health -- Poetry; Hygiene -- Early works to 1800; Hygiene -- Poetry
THE
ART
OF PRESERVING
HEALTH:
A
POEM.
[Illustration]
_LONDON_:
Printed for A. MILLAR, opposite to _Katharine-Street_ in the _Strand_.
MDCCXLIV.
[Price Four Shillings sewed.]
THE
ART
OF PRESERVING
HEALTH.
BOOK I.
AIR.
Daughter of Pæon, queen of every joy,
HYGEIA[1]; whose indulgent smile sustains
The various race luxuriant nature pours,
And on th’ immortal essences bestows
Immortal youth; auspicious, O descend! 5
Thou, chearful guardian of the rolling year,
Whether thou wanton’st on the western gale,
Or shak’st the rigid pinions of the north,
Diffusest life and vigour thro’ the tracts
Of air, thro’ earth, and ocean’s deep domain. 10
When thro’ the blue serenity of heav’n
Thy power approaches, all the wasteful host
Of pain and sickness, squallid and deform’d,
Confounded sink into the loathsom gloom,
Where in deep Erebus involv’d the fiends 15
Grow more profane. Whatever shapes of death,
Shook from the hideous chambers of the globe,
Swarm thro’ the shuddering air: whatever plagues
Or meagre famine breeds, or with slow wings
Rise from the putrid watry element, 20
The damp waste forest, motionless and rank,
That smothers earth and all the breathless winds,
Or the vile carnage of th’ inhuman field;
Whatever baneful breathes the rotten south;
Whatever ills th’ extremes or sudden change 25
Of cold and hot, or moist and dry produce;
They fly thy pure effulgence: they, and all
The secret poisons of avenging heaven,
And all the pale tribes halting in the train
Of vice and heedless pleasure: or if aught 30
The comet’s glare amid the burning sky,
Mournful eclipse, or planets ill-combin’d,
Portend disastrous to the vital world;
Thy salutary power averts their rage,
Averts the general bane: and but for thee 35
Nature would sicken, nature soon would die.
Without thy chearful active energy
No rapture swells the breast, no poet sings,
No more the maids of Helicon delight.
Come then with me, O Goddess heavenly-gay! 40
Begin the song; and let it sweetly flow,
And let it wisely teach thy wholesom laws:
“How best the fickle fabric to support
“Of mortal man; in healthful body how
“A healthful mind the longest to maintain.” 45
’Tis hard, in such a strife of rules, to chuse
The best, and those of most extensive use;
Harder in clear and animated song
Dry philosophic precepts to convey.
Yet with thy aid the secret wilds I trace 50
Of nature, and with daring steps proceed
Thro’ paths the muses never trod before.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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