Chevalier Taylor, Ophthalmiator

They write from Northampton that Chevalier Taylor, Ophthalmiator (Oculist) to all the crowned heads, arrived in that town the 7th instant, that the next and following day such an extraordinary concourse of people afflicted in the Eye demanded his assistance, that his lodgings were almost inaccessible. We can assure our readers that the Chevalier will certainly return to the Three-Cranes in this town on Monday evening next, and will not depart hence till Tuesday morning next, not only to perfect the recovery of those under his care, but to give his aid to a great many other persons who complain of defects of sight, and that he has engaged to undertake in this neighbourhood, of which all who labour under any disorder of the eye are desired to take notice.

To the Chevalier Taylor, Ophthalmiator, Pontificial, Imperial and Royal, Etc.

Hail, curious Oculist, to thee belongs
To know what secret Springs of Vision move
The Ball of Sight, what inward cause retards
Their native Force; what Operation clears
A clouded Speck, or bids the total Frame
Resume the lustre of the lucid Ray.
—‘Tis thine to tell—How veiled to gloomy shade,
The darkling Eye retires, not feels the Force
Of Solar Beam—Anon a darting gleam
Shoots through the Glass, and gives the bright’ning Orb
To visit light.—I see the liquid Stream
Flow, as the guiding hand directs the Way,
And bids it enter, where a total Gloom
Has drawn dark Cover o’er the seat of Sight,
Whether in Choroied, or nervous Net,
Fair Vision shines, thither the streaming Rays
Converge their force; and in due Order range
Their coloured Forms.—Anon the Patient sees
A new Creation rising to the View
In living Light! There blows the flowing Mead
With Sweets of ev’ry Bloom; there limpid Rill
Glides on soft foot—Here fair Pomona smiles
In Luxury of Charm—There Flora paints
Her vari-coloured Train.—Here Lunar Orb
Soft sheds her Silver Light to cheer the Gloom
Of languid Night, till Orient Sun reveals
A living Scene with radient Lustre spread.—
Go on, though favourite of Heav’n, to bless
The darkling World with Light, give it to see
The Maker’s Works, and teach the grateful Tongue
To sing the Praise, for what the Eye beholds
To rapture raised, fair work of Power divine.
While others court the Populace for Fame,
And envy Merit which they cannot claim,
Be thine the task to beam in open Day,
And shine with Lustre of unborrowed Ray.