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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SICKNESS, by WALT MASON Poet's Biography
First Line: If we were never stretched in bed, with sickness
Last Line: "neighbors are!"
Subject(s): Disease; Fever; Health Resorts; Sickness; Spas; Illness
First Line: If we were never stretched in bed, with sickness
Last Line: "neighbors are!"
Subject(s): Disease; Fever; Health Resorts; Sickness; Spas; Illness
IF we were never stretched in bed, with sickness of some standard brand, with
influenza in the head and boils and bunions in each hand, I fear we'd never
realize how good and kind the people are; for to the house where sick man sighs,
the village trots, with jug and jar. I've been an invalid this fall; all known
diseases climbed my frame, and others climbed the garden wall, and waited to get
in the game. And people came from here and there, to see if they could help me
out, to try to lighten my despair, and place large plasters on my gout. They
sawed the wood, they milked the cow, they fed the hens and wound the clock, they
packed in water for the frau, and shied at any thankful talk. They sat all night
beside my bed, until the morning hours were struck, and held me down when,
seeing red, I only longed to run amuck. They brought me chicken soup and pie,
and all the things the sick require, and kindness beamed in every eye—the
kindness that no wealth can hire. When I recovered from the gout, the mumps, hay
fever and catarrh, I said, "It beateth all get out, what thoroughbreds the
neighbors are!"
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