Said Mr. Smith, “I really cannot
Tell you, Dr. Jones-
The most peculiar pain I’m in-
I think it’s in my bones.”
Said Dr. Jones, “Oh, Mr. Smith,
That’s nothing. Without doubt
We have a simple cure for that;
It is to take them out.”
He laid forthwith poor Mr. Smith
Close-clamped upon the table,
And, cold as stone, took out his bones
As fast as he was able.
Smith said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,”
And wished him a good-day;
And with his parcel ‘neath his arm
He slowly moved away.
(Walter de la Mare)
More Poetry from Walter de la Mare:
- Gloria Mundi (Walter de la Mare Poems)
- Brueghel's Winter (Walter de la Mare Poems)
- As I was walking (Walter de la Mare Poems)
- Comfort (Walter de la Mare Poems)
- I can't abear (Walter de la Mare Poems)
- All But Blind (Walter de la Mare Poems)