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Rivers to the Sea
Doctors

by Sara Teasdale

Every night I lie awake
And every day I lie abed
And hear the doctors, pain and Death,
Conferring 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.

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