'Lost' by Robert Service
AI and Tech Aggregator
Download Mp3s Free
Tears of the Kingdom Roleplay
Best Free University Courses Online
TOTK Roleplay
"Black is the sky, but the land is white--
(O the wind, the snow and the storm!)--
Father, where is our boy to-night?
Pray to God he is safe and warm."
"Mother, mother, why should you fear?
Safe is he, and the Arctic moon
Over his cabin shines so clear--
Rest and sleep, 'twill be morning soon."
"It's getting dark awful sudden. Say, this is mighty queer!
Where in the world have I got to? It's still and black as a tomb.
I reckoned the camp was yonder, I figured the trail was here--
Nothing! Just draw and valley packed with quiet and gloom;
Snow that comes down like feathers, thick and gobby and gray;
Night that looks spiteful ugly--seems that I've lost my way.
"The cold's got an edge like a jackknife--it must be forty below;
Leastways that's what it seems like--it cuts so fierce to the bone.
The wind's getting real ferocious; it's heaving and whirling the snow;
It shrieks with a howl of fury, it dies away to a moan;
Its arms sweep round like a banshee's, swift and icily white,
And buffet and blind and beat me. Lord! it's a hell of a night.
"I'm all tangled up in a blizzard. There's only one thing to do--
Keep on moving and moving; it's death, it's death if I rest.
Oh, God! if I see the morning, if only I struggle through,
I'll say the prayers I've forgotten since I lay on my mother's breast.
I seem going round in a circle; maybe the camp is near.
Say! did somebody holler? Was it a light I saw?
Or was it only a notion? I'll shout, and maybe they'll hear--
No! the wind only drowns me--shout till my throat is raw.
"The boys are all round the camp-fire wondering when I'll be back.
They'll soon be starting to seek me; they'll scarcely wait for the light.
What will they find, I wonder, when they come to the end of my track--
A hand stuck out of a snowdrift, frozen and stiff and white.
That's what they'll strike, I reckon; that's how they'll find their pard,
A pie-faced corpse in a snowbank--curse you, don't be a fool!
Play the game to the finish; bet on your very last card;
Nerve yourself for the struggle. Oh, you coward, keep cool!
I'm going to lick this blizzard; I'm going to live the night.
It can't down me with its bluster--I'm not the kind to be beat.
On hands and knees will I buck it; with every breath will I fight;
It's life, it's life that I fight for--never it seemed so sweet.
I know that my face is frozen; my hands are numblike and dead;
But oh, my feet keep a-moving, heavy and hard and slow;
They're trying to kill me, kill me, the night that's black overhead,
The wind that cuts like a razor, the whipcord lash of the snow.
Keep a-moving, a-moving; don't, don't stumble, you fool!
Curse this snow that's a-piling a-purpose to block my way.
It's heavy as gold in the rocker, it's white and fleecy as wool;
It's soft as a bed of feathers, it's warm as a stack of hay.
Curse on my feet that slip so, my poor tired, stumbling feet;
I guess they're a job for the surgeon, they feel so queerlike to lift--
I'll rest them just for a moment--oh, but to rest is sweet!
The awful wind cannot get me, deep, deep down in the drift."
"Father, a bitter cry I heard,
Out of the night so dark and wild.
Why is my heart so strangely stirred?
'Twas like the voice of our erring child."
"Mother, mother, you only heard
A waterfowl in the locked lagoon--
Out of the night a wounded bird--
Rest and sleep, 'twill be morning soon."
Who is it talks of sleeping? I'll swear that somebody shook
Me hard by the arm for a moment, but how on earth could it be?
See how my feet are moving--awfully funny they look--
Moving as if they belonged to a someone that wasn't me.
The wind down the night's long alley bowls me down like a pin;
I stagger and fall and stagger, crawl arm-deep in the snow.
Beaten back to my corner, how can I hope to win?
And there is the blizzard waiting to give me the knockout blow.
Oh, I'm so warm and sleepy! No more hunger and pain.
Just to rest for a moment; was ever rest such a joy?
Ha! what was that? I'll swear it, somebody shook me again;
Somebody seemed to whisper: "Fight to the last, my boy."
Fight! That's right, I must struggle. I know that to rest means death;
Death, but then what does death mean? --ease from a world of strife.
Life has been none too pleasant; yet with my failing breath
Still and still must I struggle, fight for the gift of life.
* * * * *
Seems that I must be dreaming! Here is the old home trail;
Yonder a light is gleaming; oh, I know it so well!
The air is scented with clover; the cattle wait by the rail;
Father is through with the milking; there goes the supper-bell.
* * * * *
Mother, your boy is crying, out in the night and cold;
Let me in and forgive me, I'll never be bad any more:
I'm, oh, so sick and so sorry: please, dear mother, don't scold--
It's just your boy, and he wants you. . . . Mother, open the door. . . .
"Father, father, I saw a face
Pressed just now to the window-pane!
Oh, it gazed for a moment's space,
Wild and wan, and was gone again!"
"Mother, mother, you saw the snow
Drifted down from the maple tree
(Oh, the wind that is sobbing so!
Weary and worn and old are we)--
Only the snow and a wounded loon--
Rest and sleep, 'twill be morning soon."
Editor 1 Interpretation
"Lost" by Robert Service: A Journey into the Depths of the Human Soul
Have you ever felt lost in life? Have you ever felt like you don't know where you belong, or what your purpose is? If you have, then Robert Service's poem "Lost" will resonate with you on a deep level.
"Lost" is a classic poem that explores the theme of existential disorientation, and the search for meaning in a world that can often seem chaotic and confusing. In this literary criticism and interpretation, we will delve into the poem's structure, language, and imagery, and examine how they contribute to its overall message.
Overview of the Poem
First, let's take a closer look at the poem itself. "Lost" is a lyrical ballad, composed of six stanzas, each with four lines. The poem follows a simple ABAB rhyme scheme, with a regular meter of iambic tetrameter.
The speaker of the poem is a traveler who finds himself lost in a forest. He is at first fearful and disoriented, but eventually comes to accept his fate and find comfort in the natural world around him.
Structure and Language
The structure and language of "Lost" are both simple and elegant, reflecting the speaker's humble and unassuming nature. The poem's regular meter and rhyme scheme create a sense of musicality and rhythm, inviting the reader to enter into the speaker's world and experience his journey alongside him.
The language of the poem is similarly unadorned, but full of vivid imagery and sensory detail. Service uses simple, concrete nouns and verbs to paint a picture of the natural world around the speaker, from the "pine-tree tops" to the "partridge wings."
Imagery and Symbolism
One of the most striking features of "Lost" is its use of imagery and symbolism to convey the speaker's state of mind. Throughout the poem, Service uses images of the natural world to represent the speaker's inner turmoil and eventual acceptance.
For example, in the first stanza, the speaker describes the forest as "thick and dark and weird," evoking a sense of fear and disorientation. The trees and underbrush seem to close in around him, creating a sense of claustrophobia and confusion.
As the poem progresses, however, the imagery shifts to become more peaceful and comforting. In the second stanza, the speaker hears the "crackle of a twig" and the "twitter of a bird," and begins to feel a sense of connection to the natural world around him.
Later in the poem, the speaker describes the forest as a "cathedral," with the trees serving as pillars and the sky as a "stained-glass dome." This image evokes a sense of awe and reverence, as the speaker comes to see the natural world as a sacred space.
Theme and Message
At its core, "Lost" is a poem about the human search for meaning and purpose. The speaker's journey through the forest represents the universal experience of feeling lost and disoriented in life, and the struggle to find a sense of direction and meaning.
Through the use of natural imagery and symbolism, Service suggests that the key to finding meaning lies in connecting with the natural world around us. The forest becomes a metaphor for the human soul, with its twists and turns representing the ups and downs of our inner lives.
Ultimately, the poem suggests that accepting our own sense of "lostness" is the first step towards finding our way again. The speaker comes to see his predicament not as a curse, but as an opportunity for growth and self-discovery.
Conclusion
In conclusion, "Lost" is a timeless poem that speaks to the human condition in a profound and moving way. Through its use of simple yet powerful language, vivid imagery, and universal themes, the poem invites us to reflect on our own journeys through life, and to find comfort and solace in the natural world around us.
So, have you ever felt lost in life? If so, take heart; you are not alone. And remember the words of Robert Service:
"And when you're lost in the darkness and despair, Remember that the sun is rising somewhere, And somewhere, birds are singing."
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Lost: A Poem of Adventure and Self-Discovery
Robert Service’s poem Lost is a thrilling tale of a man’s journey through the wilderness, both physical and emotional. The poem is a masterpiece of storytelling, with vivid imagery and a powerful message about the importance of self-discovery and the pursuit of one’s dreams. In this analysis, we will explore the themes and symbolism of Lost, and examine how Service’s use of language and structure creates a powerful and unforgettable narrative.
The poem begins with the speaker, a man who is lost in the wilderness, reflecting on his situation. He is alone, with no food or shelter, and he is unsure of his location. The opening lines set the tone for the poem, with the speaker describing his fear and uncertainty:
“Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known.”
These lines establish the central theme of the poem: the idea that we must embrace the unknown and approach it with humility and respect. The speaker is lost, but he is not defeated. He recognizes that he is in a new and unfamiliar place, and he must learn to navigate it on its own terms. This idea is reinforced throughout the poem, as the speaker encounters various obstacles and challenges, and must find his way through them using his own wits and intuition.
One of the most striking features of Lost is its use of vivid imagery and sensory detail. Service’s descriptions of the natural world are rich and evocative, bringing the landscape to life in the reader’s mind. For example, in the following lines, the speaker describes the sound of a stream:
“And listen for the telltale rustles, And learn to read the signs that are written in the dust.”
These lines are not just descriptive; they are also instructive. The speaker is teaching the reader how to survive in the wilderness, how to pay attention to the details of the natural world and use them to find one’s way. This combination of sensory detail and practical advice is one of the hallmarks of Service’s style, and it makes Lost a compelling and immersive reading experience.
Another key element of the poem is its use of symbolism. Throughout the narrative, the speaker encounters various animals and natural phenomena that have symbolic significance. For example, he encounters a snake, which he describes as “a symbol of my trespass.” The snake represents the danger and uncertainty of the wilderness, and the speaker’s own fear and vulnerability. Similarly, the speaker encounters a bear, which he describes as “a symbol of my fear.” The bear represents the speaker’s own inner demons, his doubts and insecurities that threaten to overwhelm him.
As the poem progresses, the speaker’s journey becomes more and more perilous. He must cross a river, climb a mountain, and face other challenges that test his strength and courage. Through it all, he remains determined and focused, driven by a sense of purpose that is both personal and universal. He is not just trying to survive; he is trying to find himself, to discover who he truly is and what he is capable of.
The climax of the poem comes when the speaker reaches the top of the mountain. From this vantage point, he can see the world spread out before him, and he feels a sense of awe and wonder:
“And I thought of the life that had brought me here, And the moonlight groped for me in vain.”
These lines are both beautiful and poignant. The speaker has reached a moment of clarity and insight, a moment of self-discovery that is both humbling and empowering. He has faced his fears and overcome them, and he has found a sense of purpose and meaning that transcends his own individual experience.
In conclusion, Lost is a powerful and inspiring poem that speaks to the human experience of adventure and self-discovery. Through its vivid imagery, practical advice, and symbolic language, the poem takes the reader on a journey through the wilderness of the soul, and shows us that even in the darkest moments, there is always hope and possibility. Whether we are lost in the physical world or the emotional one, we can find our way if we approach the unknown with humility and respect, and trust in our own inner strength and intuition. Robert Service’s Lost is a timeless classic that will continue to inspire and uplift readers for generations to come.
Editor Recommended Sites
Knowledge Graph Ops: Learn maintenance and operations for knowledge graphs in cloudContinuous Delivery - CI CD tutorial GCP & CI/CD Development: Best Practice around CICD
LLM Book: Large language model book. GPT-4, gpt-4, chatGPT, bard / palm best practice
Dev Tradeoffs: Trade offs between popular tech infrastructure choices
Developer Painpoints: Common issues when using a particular cloud tool, programming language or framework
Recommended Similar Analysis
Demeter And Persephone by Alfred Lord Tennyson analysisAll Day Long by Carl Sandburg analysis
Dejection : An Ode by Samuel Taylor Coleridge analysis
The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes analysis
The Little Dog's Day by Rupert Brooke analysis
Telephone , The by Robert Lee Frost analysis
XVII (Thinking, Tangling Shadows...) by Pablo Neruda analysis
Because I could not stop for Death by Emily Dickinson analysis
The Thousandth Man by Rudyard Kipling analysis
With rue my heart is laden by Alfred Edward Housman analysis