Doctor Meyers speaks from the grave, remembering how he cared for the poor and helpless in his town and enjoyed a comfortable, happy life with a loving wife and grown children. He was known as good-hearted, easy Doctor Meyers. Then one night Minerva, a poetess, came to him in trouble, crying. He tried to help her, but she died. After that he was indicted, publicly disgraced, and his wife died of a broken heart. Soon pneumonia killed him. His tone is subdued and bitterly ironic: he saw himself as a generous man, yet one failed attempt to help destroyed everything. The early lines have a calm, almost proud satisfaction, but the ending replaces that with a hollow, stunned resignation. He doesn’t rage; he simply states what happened. A somber, unfair mood lingers, as if Doctor Meyers still cannot believe how quickly a good life collapsed.
Doctor Meyers — Summary
No other man, unless it was Doc Hill, Did more for people in this town than I. And all the weak, the halt, the improvident And those who could not pay flocked to me. I was good-hearted, easy Doctor Meyers. I was healthy, happy, in comfortable fortune, Blest with a congenial mate, my children raised, All wedded, doing well in the world. And then one night, Minerva, the poetess, Came to me in her trouble, crying. I tried to help her out—she died— They indicted me, the newspapers disgraced me, My wife perished of a broken heart. And pneumonia finished me.