In Hospital - IV - Before

A poem by William Ernest Henley

Behold me waiting - waiting for the knife.
A little while, and at a leap I storm
The thick, sweet mystery of chloroform,
The drunken dark, the little death-in-life.
The gods are good to me: I have no wife,
No innocent child, to think of as I near
The fateful minute; nothing all-too dear
Unmans me for my bout of passive strife.
Yet am I tremulous and a trifle sick,
And, face to face with chance, I shrink a little:
My hopes are strong, my will is something weak.
Here comes the basket? Thank you. I am ready.
But, gentlemen my porters, life is brittle:
You carry Caesar and his fortunes - steady!

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'In Hospital - IV - Before' by William Ernest Henley

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy