Poem – An Ex-paient 1918

The Sanatorium.
On Greenvale heights, arrayed white,
Stand tents and wards-the medium
Where mortals frail their ills can fight:
Tis called the Sanatorium.

The doctors, backed by Tommy Bent,
Decide to try what can be done
To stem disease malevolent.
By means of Sanatorium.

Female.and male, from far and near,
By train, by cab, by motor come.
They leave their homes, with falling tear,
To try The Sanatorium.

The matron greets them at the hall,
And patients quickly , they become.
The bath is heated, and they all
Indulge – at Sanatorium.

With normal temp. four days in bed
Shakes patients’ equilibrium.
On milk and sago they are fed
At Greenvale Sanatorium.

The four days’ bed at last is o’er,
And to the dinning hall they come.
Good patient- ’tis,-who asks for more
And more, at Sanatorium.

On Mondays to the scale we go;
Hearts pit-a-pat, .and voices dumb.
‘Tis sin our weight to lose,we know.,
When fed at Sanatorium.

As time goes on, proficient we,
At sundry tasks quickly become —
Lamps, wards. and knives we clean with glee,
(Perhaps) at Sanatorium.

The Sister neat, with ways discreet,
Keeps, patients duly, under thumb;
Picks gardeners strong from “ward elite,”
To work at Sanatorium.

She daily leads them from their lair
to dig and delve-they follow glum.
and if they shirk-beware! beware!
the wrath of sanatorium.

With conscientious scruples, we
Commandments keep “as libitum,”
And Sundays work, we all agree
to shun-at Sanatorium.

So time drifts on, the cooks provide
Chops, ‘taties, “in perpetuum”;
But lemon sago is the pride
Of all at Sanatorium.

The phagocyte renews each day
Its fight with the bacterium:
Victorious, we hope it may
Arise at Sanatorium.

So at the las – three mounts – about
Our term ‘neath regulations run;
we pack our bags, and good-buy shout
To-Greenvale Sanatorium.
9/2/1907;
and ex-patient

https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/268989016