Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE DOCTOR, by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE DOCTOR, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: He'd soon be home. The car was running well
Last Line: Alone, and hungry newborn babies crying.


He'd soon be home. The car was running well,
Considering what she'd been through, since the bell
Tumbled him out again -- just as his head
Sank in the pillow, glad to get to bed
After the last night's watching, and a day
Of travelling snowy roads without a stay --
To find the tall young shepherd at the door.

"The wife's gey bad in child-bed" -- and no more
He'd said till they were seated in the car,
And he was asked, Where to? and was it far?
"The Scalp" he'd said -- "Some fifteen mile or so."

And they'd set out through blinding squalls of snow
To climb the hills. The car could scarcely crawl
At times, she skidded so; and with that squall
Clean in his eyes he scarcely saw to steer --
His big lamps only lit a few yards clear --

But those young eyes beside him seemed to pierce
The fifteen miles of smother fuming fierce
Between the husband and his home -- the light
In that far bedroom window held his sight,
As though he saw clean through the blinding squall
To the little square stone steading that held all
His heart -- so solitary, bleak and grey
Among the snow-drifts on the windy brae,
Beyond the burn that, swollen, loud and black
Threatened the single plank that kept the track
Between them and the outside world secure.
If that were gone, when he got back, for sure
They'd have to plunge waist-deep in that black spate
And cling for life upon the old sheep-gate,
If it were not gone too, to cross at all...

And she! He saw the shadow on the wall
Behind the bed, his mother's as she bent
To comfort Mary, for a moment spent
By the long agony ... That shadow seemed
So black and threatening, and the candle gleamed
So strangely in those wild bright eyes...
They'd be
Lucky to reach the bank at all: for he
Had been through that burn once on such a night:
And he remembered how he'd had to fight
The frothing flood, rolled over, beaten, bruised,
And well-nigh dragged down under, though well used
To every mood and temper of the burn.

Yet, though he gazed so far, he missed no turn
In all those climbing miles of snow-blind way
Until the car stopt dead by Gallows' Brae,
And they'd to leave her underneath a dyke,
And plunge knee-deep through drift-choked slack and syke
Until they reached the plank that still held fast,
Though quivering underfoot in that wild blast
Like a stretched clothes-line. Dizzily they crossed
Above that brawling blackness, torn and tossed
To flashing spray about the lantern. Then
Setting their teeth, they took the brae, like men
At desperate hazard charging certain death:
And nigh the crest the doctor reeled -- his breath
Knocked out of him, and sinking helplessly
Knew nothing till he wakened drowsily
Before the peat, and found himself alone
In a strange kitchen.
But a heavy moan
Just overhead recalled him, and he leapt
Instantly to his feet, alert, and crept
Upstairs with noiseless step until he came
To the low bedroom, where the candle flame
Showed the old woman, standing by the bed
On which the young wife lay. His noiseless tread
Scarce startling them, he paused a moment while
Those strained white lips and wild eyes strove to smile
Bravely and tenderly as the husband bent
Over the bed to kiss her, and then went
Without a word, closing the creaking door,
And crept downstairs on tiptoe, and once more
The room was filled with moaning.

When at last
His part was done, and danger safely past,
And into a wintry world with lusty crying
That little life had ventured, and was lying
Beside the drowsy mother on the bed,
Downstairs the doctor stole with noiseless tread,
And, entering the kitchen quietly,
Saw the young father gazing fearfully
Into the fire with dazed unseeing eyes.
He spoke to him: and still he did not rise,
But sat there staring with that senseless gaze
Set on the peat that with a sudden blaze
Lit up his drawn face, bloodless 'neath its tan.
But when the doctor stooped and touched the man
Upon the shoulder, starting to his feet
He staggered, almost falling in the peat,
Whispering "She's safe! She's safe!"
And then he leapt
Suddenly up the stair. The doctor crept
Speedily after him without a sound:
But when he reached the upper room he found
He wasn't needed. The young husband bent
Over his wife and baby, quiet, content:
Then the wife stirred, opening her eyes, and smiled
And they together looked upon their child.

The doctor drowsed till dawn beside the peat,
Napping uneasily in the high-backed seat,
Half-conscious of the storm that shook the pane
And rattled at the door...
And now again
He seemed to stand beside the lonely bed
He'd stood beside last night -- the old man, dead
With staring eyes, dropt jaw, and rigid grin
That held the stark white features, peaked and thin --
The old man, left alone, with not a friend
To make his body seemly in the end,
Or close his eyes...
And then the lusty cry
Of that young baby screaming hungrily
Broke through his dream...

The car was running well.
He'd soon be home, and sleeping -- till the bell
Should rouse him to a world of old men dying
Alone, and hungry newborn babies crying.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net