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Poem by Robert William Service
"Tuberculosis should not be," The old professor said. "If folks would hearken unto me 'Twould save a million dead. Nay, no consumptive needs to die, --A cure have I. "From blood of turtle I've distilled An elixir of worth; Let every sufferer be thrilled And sing for joy of earth; Yet every doctor turns his back And calls me quack. "Alas! They do not want to cure, For sickness is their meat; So persecution I endure, And die in dark defeat: Ye lungers, listen to my call! --I'll save you all." The old Professor now is dead, And turtles of the sea, Knowing their blood they need not shed, Are festive in their glee: While sanitoriums are crammed With legions dammed.
Robert William Service
Robert William Service's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail email@example.com