The truth, he speaks, the patient, sick when he's,
'Tis rare for him to tell a pack of lies;
If not, the Diagnosis will go amiss,
The patient knows all this if he is wise.
How can the Doctor know the malady,
Without the patient telling his Symptom?
Diagnosis must precede the Remedy,
A commodity, Health's bought but seldom.
0 patient, Thou better speak truth alone!
The Doctor is no real Demi-God;
Help him help thee, 'fore thy family shall moan;
If thou art ill, Doctor is next to God.
Diseases can dupe the best of Doctors,
A bad history can turn into thine hearse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem