Classic Poem

Two million pills a day! and yet
(Though people daily die)
The rogues do flourish rich and great,
And fools do multiply —
The two great pill-ars of the State
Stand prominent and high.

Two million pills! a month's supply,
If all arranged in boxes,
Would equal the Equator; aye,
And both the Equinoxes!

Two million pills in single file
Would over-run the cable,
And rounded up, might go its pile
Against the tower of Babel!

Enough to turn the planets pale,
To heave the ocean dry,
And crook the very comet's tail
With perfect agony!

And oh, my countrymen! the ills
Your heedless stomachs dash on
Might melt the makers of those pills
To bowels of compassion.

And could I cure you of the curse,
With " learned skill, " I'd cull
And give you in one fragrant verse
The " pill receipt " in full.

Of rhubarb, aloes, jalap, just
As much as may suffice,
With hydrargyrum, and a dust
Of powdered liquorice.

Then soap enough to make it stiff,
And from a tower so tall
The pills are pestled through a sieve,
And rounded as they fall
Like shot, my fellow countrymen,
And yet you take them all!