The gaunt brown walls Look infinite in their decent meanness. There is nothing of home in the noisy kettle, The fulsome fire. The atmosphere Suggests trail of a ghostly druggist. Dressings and lint on the long, lean table -- Whom are they for? The patients yawn, Or lie as in training for shroud and coffin. A nurse in the corridor scolds and wrangles. It's grim and strange. Far footfalls clank. The bad burn waits with his head unbandaged. My neighbour chokes in the clutch of chloral . . . O, a gruesome world! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LILY, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE BATTLE SONG by EBENEZER ELLIOTT MACDONALD'S RAID - A.D. 1780 by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE THE WIDOW AT WINDSOR by RUDYARD KIPLING TO THE ONE OF FICTIVE MUSIC by WALLACE STEVENS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 3. THE VOLUNTARY PRISONER by PHILIP AYRES POLYHYMNIA: DEDICATION TO THE COUNTESS OF LINDSEY by WILLIAM BASSE |