Sara Teasdale

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  • Poem

    Doctors

    Every night I lie awake
    And every day I lie abed
    And hear the doctors, Pain and Death,
    Confering 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.
    Sara Teasdale
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    Last updated: May 30, 1999.