THE doctor lives by chicken pox, by measles, and by mumps. He keeps a microbe in a box and cheers him when he jumps at unsuspecting children, who have two important nurses; but if it bounds where less than two are kept, he simply curses. His greed is such that though you ache in every limb, be sure if there is nothing else to take, he'll take your temperature. And if at first he can't succeed, he has another try, and takes your pulse. Some people plead "The man must live!" But why? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DICKENS IN CAMP by FRANCIS BRET HARTE THE ANNOYER by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS THE ROSE OF PEACE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS DEATH by EVGENY ABRAMOVICH BARATYNSKY SONNET: MAN VERSUS ASCETIC. 2 by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THUS FAR by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN WHERE THE DEAD MEN LIE by BARCROFT HENRY BOAKE |