A poem from the glorious days of 200 years ago when Big Pharma didn't exist

[LeftishBrit]

From 'The Borough' by George Crabbe, published in 1810

But now our quacks are gamesters and they play
With craft and skill to ruin and betray;
With monstrous promise they delude the mind
And thrive on all that tortures human-kind.
Void of all honour, avaricious, rash,
The daring tribe compound their boasted trash-
Tincture or syrup, lotion, drop or pill;
All tempt the sick to trust the lying bill;
And twenty names of cobblers turned to squires
Aid the bold language of these blushless liars.
There are among them those who cannot read,
And yet they'll buy a patent and succed;
Will dare to promise dying sufferers aid,-
For who, when dead, can threaten or upbraid?
With cruel avarice still they recommend
More draughts, more syrup, to the journey's end.
'I feel it not' - Then take it every hour'-
'It makes me worse'- 'Why, then it shows its power'.
'I fear to die'- 'Let not your spirits sink.
You're always safe, while you believe and drink'.
How strange to add, in this nefarious trade,
That men of parts are dupes by dunces made...

[semillama]

1. glorious

i'd say more but an infant is sucking my finger.

[LeftishBrit]

2. Ahh, how's the little one?

[semillama]

4. He's well

Going in for his first round of eye-sparkle removing injections, I mean vaccines.

[lizerdbits]

3. Finger snack!

Both my nephews did that, and the youngest (just turned 2) still does. Luckily it's just parent fingers they like so I've escaped it.

[Warpy]

5. I've been watching The Tudors on DVD

and the stuff they did in place of medicine, ye gawds. Just the description of one of the "draughts" was enough to send me heaving. They had no clue about what caused sickness although they did know some of them spread from person to person.

It's a great series and a great antidote to the Health Scare Lounge, seeing how far our way has brought us.