GIVE me your hand and let me feel your pulse
And learn how fares your cardiac apparatus.
Whether it starts and beats uncertainly.
While Cupid aims his keen swift arrow at us
Grant me one fever, it is all I ask —
Take me to be your knight as well as doctor!
For you, of what fine potions, powders, pills,
Could I forever be the proud concocter
0, sweet compendium of anatomy.
How beautiful your eyelids’ modest ptosis —
For lo I you love, I feel it in your pulse;
I ‘d stake my life upon my diagnosis!
By: Dr. Frederick Peterson
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