The army doctor's gentle in his touch

A grey-haired man with a friendly smile

His practice, young and thriving, is his crutch

He prides himself in a humble lifestyle

But the army doctor's visage will give

No hint of the depth of his history;

Of the greatest detective that ever lived;

A love affair, shrouded in mystery

On his way home, by the cover of night

He looks on St. Bart's Hospital and weeps

While he mourns the love that was his by right

But the love he was not allowed to keep

With the whole of London blind to his strife,

The noble army doctor takes his life.