The poem
"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.