'Noctambule' by Robert Service
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Zut! it's two o'clock.
See! the lights are jumping.
Finish up your bock,
Time we all were humping.
Waiters stack the chairs,
Pile them on the tables;
Let us to our lairs
Underneath the gables.
Up the old Boul' Mich'
Climb with steps erratic.
Steady . . . how I wish
I was in my attic!
Full am I with cheer;
In my heart the joy stirs;
Couldn't be the beer,
Must have been the oysters.
In obscene array
Garbage cans spill over;
How I wish that they
Smelled as sweet as clover!
Charing women wait;
Cafes drop their shutters;
Rats perambulate
Up and down the gutters.
Down the darkened street
Market carts are creeping;
Horse with wary feet,
Red-faced driver sleeping.
Loads of vivid greens,
Carrots, leeks, potatoes,
Cabbages and beans,
Turnips and tomatoes.
Pair of dapper chaps,
Cigarettes and sashes,
Stare at me, perhaps
Desperate Apachès.
"Needn't bother me,
Jolly well you know it;
Parceque je suis
Quartier Latin poet.
"Give you villanelles,
Madrigals and lyrics;
Ballades and rondels,
Odes and panegyrics.
Poet pinched and poor,
Pricked by cold and hunger;
Trouble's troubadour,
Misery's balladmonger."
Think how queer it is!
Every move I'm making,
Cosmic gravity's
Center I am shaking;
Oh, how droll to feel
(As I now am feeling),
Even as I reel,
All the world is reeling.
Reeling too the stars,
Neptune and Uranus,
Jupiter and Mars,
Mercury and Venus;
Suns and moons with me,
As I'm homeward straying,
All in sympathy
Swaying, swaying, swaying.
Lord! I've got a head.
Well, it's not surprising.
I must gain my bed
Ere the sun be rising;
When the merry lark
In the sky is soaring,
I'll refuse to hark,
I'll be snoring, snoring.
Strike a sulphur match . . .
Ha! at last my garret.
Fumble at the latch,
Close the door and bar it.
Bed, you graciously
Wait, despite my scorning . . .
So, bibaciously
Mad old world, good morning.
Editor 1 Interpretation
Noctambule by Robert Service
Introduction
Have you ever been awake in the middle of the night and felt like you were the only one in the world still conscious? Have you ever walked through the streets in the dead of night and felt like a stranger in your own city? That's exactly what Robert Service captures in his poem, Noctambule. The poem takes the reader on a journey through the empty streets of a sleeping city, exploring the thoughts and emotions of a solitary wanderer.
The Poem
The street-lamp glows like a great gold flower
And swings in the windstead's languorous hour,
My feet drag on, and my heart beats low
As the sapless leaves in the night-wind blow.
My mind is as numb as the night, -it seems
A purpled thought drifts like a dream,
A cloud in the sky of my skull so wan
That I marvel it's there: And then it's gone.
The midnight street grows slowly dim
And the traffic's pace is a drunken swim,
My feet drag on, and my head hangs low
As the groping darkness encloses me so.
And I walk alone, and I wonder why
As my shadow looms and it flits on by
With a life so short, and a death so nigh.
The houses are huddled, and hidden from view
And they seem to whisper, "Who are you?"
The trees by the road-side shiver and sigh
And I feel as lonely as the passing by
Of a lost soul bound for Eternity.
The street-lamp swings in the wind so wild
And I pause to wonder, like a little child,
"Why does it swing? and where does it go?"
And then comes a knock at my heart, and "So?
What of it all? and what does it mean?
Life, and Death, and the vast unseen?
Why do we laugh? and why do we weep?
Why do we wake when we long for sleep?"
The wind is a giant with elephant tread,
And the earth is a pebble beneath his tread,
And the trees are bushes he scarcely bends,
Yet he shakes the earth, and he snaps the ends
Of the branches off like the merest reeds,
And he moans with the voice of a million need.
And I walk alone, and I wonder why
As the wind's great hand goes sweeping by
With a power so vast, and a fury so wild.
The midnight street is a thing of awe
And the shadows are weird on the lamp-lit floor,
My feet drag on, and my heart beats low
As I think of the things that I do not know,
Of the things that are hid in the vast unknown,
Of the secrets that lie in the great white throne.
The wind goes moaning along the street,
And the lamp swings wildly with gypsy feet,
And I pause and listen with bated breath
To the voice of the wind as it whispers, "Death."
And I see the face of the great Unknown,
And I shudder and wonder, -is Death alone?
Analysis
The poem is divided into three stanzas, each exploring a different aspect of the night-time wanderer's psyche. In the first stanza, Service paints a vivid picture of the night-time world, with its swinging street lamps and rustling leaves. The wanderer's thoughts are described as "purpled" and "numb," indicating a sense of detachment from the world around him. The fleeting nature of these thoughts is also highlighted, with ideas coming and going like clouds in the sky.
In the second stanza, the mood turns darker as the wanderer contemplates his own mortality. The "drunken swim" of the traffic and the "groping darkness" that surrounds him suggest a sense of disorientation and confusion. The houses and trees are personified, whispering and shivering with the same sense of uncertainty. The wanderer feels like a "lost soul bound for Eternity," highlighting his sense of isolation and fear.
The third stanza brings the poem to its climax, as the wanderer confronts the biggest question of all - the meaning of life and death. The wind is described as a "giant with elephant tread," emphasizing its power and the sense of insignificance felt by the wanderer. The swing of the street lamp and the moaning of the wind take on a supernatural quality, as if they are part of some grand design that the wanderer cannot comprehend. The final lines of the poem are the most powerful, as the wanderer contemplates the face of the great unknown and wonders whether death is truly alone.
Interpretation
Noctambule is a meditation on the human condition, exploring the loneliness, fear, and confusion that can arise when we confront the vast unknown. The poem is full of vivid imagery and personification, creating a world that is simultaneously beautiful and eerie. Service's use of short, simple lines and repetition creates a dreamlike quality that adds to the sense of detachment and disorientation felt by the wanderer.
At its core, Noctambule is a poem about the human search for meaning in a world that often seems indifferent to our existence. The wanderer's questions - "Why do we laugh? and why do we weep? Why do we wake when we long for sleep?" - are universal and timeless, reflecting the eternal human struggle to make sense of our place in the cosmos. In the end, the poem offers no easy answers, only a sense of awe and wonder at the mystery of life and death.
Conclusion
Noctambule is a haunting and evocative poem that captures the mood of the night-time world with startling clarity. Service's use of vivid imagery and repetition creates a dreamlike quality that draws the reader into the wanderer's world. The poem is a meditation on the human search for meaning and the fear and confusion that can arise when we confront the vast unknown. It is a poem that speaks to the eternal human struggle to make sense of our place in the cosmos, leaving the reader with a sense of awe and wonder at the mystery of life and death.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Noctambule: A Poem of the Night
Robert Service, the famous Canadian poet, is known for his vivid and powerful descriptions of the natural world and the human experience. His poem Noctambule is a perfect example of his skill in capturing the essence of a moment and conveying it in a way that resonates with readers.
Noctambule, which means "night walker" in French, is a poem that explores the mysterious and enchanting world of the night. The poem begins with the speaker describing a moonlit night, where the stars are shining bright and the world is bathed in a soft, silvery light. The speaker is drawn to the night, and he sets out on a journey to explore its secrets.
The first stanza of the poem sets the tone for the rest of the piece. The speaker describes the night as a place of magic and wonder, where the ordinary rules of the world do not apply. He speaks of the moon as a "ghostly galleon" sailing through the sky, and the stars as "diamonds in the dark". This imagery creates a sense of mystery and enchantment, drawing the reader into the world of the poem.
As the speaker sets out on his journey, he encounters a series of strange and wondrous sights. He sees a "phantom city" rising up in the distance, and a "ghostly ship" sailing on the sea. He hears the "whispering of the trees" and the "murmur of the streams". These images create a sense of otherworldliness, as if the speaker has entered a realm beyond the ordinary world.
The second stanza of the poem is particularly powerful, as the speaker describes the feeling of being alone in the night. He speaks of the "lonely wind" that blows through the trees, and the "solitude profound" that surrounds him. This sense of isolation creates a feeling of vulnerability, as if the speaker is at the mercy of the night and its secrets.
Despite this sense of vulnerability, the speaker is drawn deeper into the night. He speaks of the "spell" that the night has cast over him, and the "fascination" that draws him onward. This sense of fascination is a key theme of the poem, as the speaker is driven by a desire to explore the mysteries of the night.
As the poem progresses, the speaker encounters a series of strange and wondrous creatures. He sees a "goblin" dancing in the moonlight, and a "fairy" flitting through the trees. He hears the "howling of the wolves" and the "hooting of the owls". These images create a sense of danger and excitement, as if the speaker is on a perilous adventure.
The final stanza of the poem brings the journey to a close, as the speaker returns to the world of daylight. He speaks of the "dawn" breaking over the horizon, and the "rosy fingers" of the sun reaching out to touch the world. This image creates a sense of hope and renewal, as if the night has given the speaker a new perspective on the world.
Overall, Noctambule is a powerful and evocative poem that captures the essence of the night. Through vivid imagery and powerful language, Robert Service creates a world that is both enchanting and dangerous, drawing the reader into a journey of discovery and exploration. The poem speaks to the human desire to explore the unknown, and the sense of wonder and fascination that comes with it. It is a timeless piece of literature that continues to captivate readers to this day.
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