Skip to content
1884–1933

DOCTORS

Sara Teasdale

EVERY night I lie awake And every day I lie abed And hear the doctors, Pain and Death, Conferring at my head.

They speak in scientific tones, Professional and low — One argues for a speedy cure, The other, sure and slow.

To one so humble as myself It should be matter for some pride To have such noted fellows here, Conferring at my side.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
DOCTORS · Sara Teasdale · Poetry Cove