Following on this theme is the poem "Doctor Meyers" by Edgar Lee Masters and located at AmericanPoems.com
No other man, unless it was Doc Hill,
Did more for people in this town than l.
And all the weak, the halt, the improvident
And those who could not pay flocked to me.
I was good-hearted, easy Doctor Meyers.
I was healthy, happy, in comfortable fortune,
Blest with a congenial mate, my children raised,
All wedded, doing well in the world.
And then one night, Minerva, the poetess,
Came to me in her trouble, crying.
I tried to help her out -- she died --
They indicted me, the newspapers disgraced me,
My wife perished of a broken heart.
And pneumonia finished me.
Yet, you know, our medical schools are still filled with students. There must be, despite the uncertanties of the medical profession, still something worthy to become a doctor. ..Maurice.
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