‘Tis the human touch
in this world that counts,
The touch of your hand and mine,
Which means far more
to the fainting heart
Than shelter and bread and wine.
For shelter is gone
when the night is o’er,
And bread lasts only a day.
But the touch of the hand
And the sound of the voice
Sing on in the soul always

Spencer Michael Free (‘The Human Touch’)

NOTE: In addition to poetry, Free was a graduate of the College of Physicians and Surgeons of the Johns Hopkins University (1880) and practiced medicine for nearly fifty years thereafter (NYU – Ehrman Public Library)