(For J. F. C, Jr.)
Bound to the polished table, arm and leg,
I lay and watched, with loud, disgusting fear,
The army of the instruments draw near,
Hook, saw, sleek scissor and distorted peg;
My eyes were like a spaniel's when they beg,
The nurses' purpose was so very clear
. . . And though I tried to bite one in the ear
She stayed as white and silent as an egg.
Time, the superb physician, drew his breath,
"I'll just remove Youth, Health and Love," he said,
"The rest is for Consulting-Surgeon Death."
God, how I hated that peremptory head!
As through the ether came his sickening drawl
"Now this won't hurt. . . . Oh, it won't hurt at all."
