The Illiterate

By William Meredith

"Touching your goodness I am like a man
Who turns over a letter in his hand
And you might think this was because the hand
Was unfamiliar but, truth is, the man
Has never had a letter from anyone;
And now he is both afriad of what it means
And ashamed, because he has no other means
To find out what it says that to ask someone.

His uncle could have left the farm to him.
Or his parents died before he sent them word.
Or the dark girl changed, and want him for beloved.
Afraid, and letter-proud, he keeps it with him.
What would you call the feeling for the words
That keep him rich, and orphaned, and beloved."

This is the poem I memorized and recited in my English 211 class. I thought you all might enjoy it as I did. Or maybe I'm just an English nerd now.