Doctor Meyers by Edgar Lee Masters

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No other man, unless it was Doc Hill, / Did more for people in this town than I.

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.

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