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Edgar Guest - The Family Doctor
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I`ve tried the high-toned specialists, who doctor folks to-day;
I`ve heard the throat man whisper low "Come on now let us spray";
I`ve sat in fancy offices and waited long my turn,
And paid for fifteen minutes what it took a week to earn;
But while these scientific men are kindly, one and all,
I miss the good old doctor that my mother used to call.
The old-time family doctor! Oh, I am sorry that he`s gone,
He ushered us into the world and knew us every one;
He didn`t have to ask a lot of questions, for he knew
Our histories from birth and all the ailments we`d been through.
And though as children small we feared the medicines he`d send,
The old-time family doctor grew to be our dearest friend.
No hour too late, no night too rough for him to heed our call;
He knew exactly where to hang his coat up in the hall;
He knew exactly where to go, which room upstairs to find
The patient he`d been called to see, and saying: "Never mind,
I`ll run up there myself and see what`s causing all the fuss."
It seems we grew to look and lean on him as one of us.
He had a big and kindly heart, a fine and tender way,
And more than once I`ve wished that I could call him in to-day.
The specialists are clever men and busy men, I know,
And haven`t time to doctor as they did long years ago;
But some day he may come again, the friend that we can call,
The good old family doctor who will love us one and all.
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