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A balm for every worldly care and ill: But I thy power to soothe could never see;

Philosophy! Cans't thou take up a Bill!

Can'st thou remove of poverty the damp?

Alas! thy boasted potency I doubt; For, when hot water rushes on to swamp,

Thou can'st not bail (bale) the fragile vessel out.



Locke never will remove a prison's bars ;

The debtor, seeking comfort there, 's a dolt. Is it not Lock alone his freedom mars;

Since it is that won't let him make a bolt ?

Oh! can a hungry mouth expect a meal

From prosing o'er Philosophy's dull trash ? Who flies to Bacon will be sure to feel

That he can get no rasher ;-he's so rash.

What though the Student anxiously may toil,

And of acquirement scientific boast;
Say! Is there one, who plodding over Boyle,

Obtain'd one single atom of the roast?

Then, to Philosophy l bid farewell!

'Tis vain when of the assets there's a dearth: My Paley and my Newton let me sell;

And for my Hobbes, I throw it to the hearth.

Thou'st brought me to a miserable plight;

Of means and everything by thee bereft.
Seeking to prove “ whatever is, is right,"

I find, too late, that I have nothing left.

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