Edgar Lee Masters

(23 August 1868 – 5 March 1950 / Kansas / United States)

Zenas Witt


I was sixteen, and I had the most terrible dreams,
And specks before my eyes, and nervous weakness.
And I couldn't remember the books I read,
Like Frank Drummer who memorized page after page.
And my back was weak, and I worried and worried,
And I was embarrassed and stammered my lessons,
And when I stood up to recite I'd forget
Everything that I had studied.
Well, I saw Dr. Weese's advertisement,
And there I read everything in print,
Just as if he had known me;
And about the dreams which I couldn't help.
So I knew I was marked for an early grave.
And I worried until I had a cough,
And then the dreams stopped.
And then I slept the sleep without dreams
Here on the hill by the river.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: river, remember, sleep, dream

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Zenas Witt by Edgar Lee Masters )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Seamless Transition, Doug Blair
  2. To Be Continued, Vincent Topp
  3. Church Woman (Saint in Progress), Doug Blair
  4. Invisible Monster, Dan Walker
  5. Dead Veg, Richard Lee
  6. House of Cards, Pradip Chattopadhyay
  7. Flying Turtles, Richard Lee
  8. The Guaca-mole, Richard Lee
  9. Pop goes the Easel, Richard Lee
  10. Word of mouth from the people of audacio.., Dr.V.K. Kanniappan

Poem of the Day

poet Emily Dickinson

239

"Heaven"—is what I cannot reach!
The Apple on the Tree—
Provided it do hopeless—hang—
That—"Heaven" is—to Me!

...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet John Burroughs

 

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]