Page:The Art of Preserving Health - A Poem in Four Books.djvu/85

B. III. For thro' the small arterial mouths, that pierce In endless millions the close-woven skin, The baser fluids in a constant stream Escape, and viewless melt into the winds. While this eternal, this most copious waste Of blood degenerate into vapid brine, Maintains its wonted measure; all the powers Of health befriend you, all the wheels of life With ease and pleasure move: But this restrain'd Or more or less, so more or less you feel The functions labour. From this fatal source What woes descend is never to be sung. To take their numbers, were to count the sands That ride in whirlwind the parch'd Lybian air; Or waves that, when the blustering North embroils The Baltic, thunder on the German shore. Subject not then, by soft emollient arts, This grand expence, on which your fates depend Rh