My piscarthyist said to me "Your mother won't mind
And your father won't slight you for your loss of affect"
And he cast his glance on me and this he did say
"It will not be long, Richard, till our next appointment."

And he went away from me and walked through the ward
Suspiciously I watched him move here and move there
And then he went off again, for another long week
Like the swan in the evening moves over the lake.

Last night he came to me, my old doctor came in
So softly he came that his feet made no din
And he cast his glance on me and this he did say
"Oh, it will not be long, Richard, till our next appointment."