'The Whistle Of Sandy McGraw' by Robert Service


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You may talk o' your lutes and your dulcimers fine,
Your harps and your tabors and cymbals and a',
But here in the trenches jist gie me for mine
The wee penny whistle o' Sandy McGraw.
Oh, it's: "Sandy, ma lad, will you lilt us a tune?"
And Sandy is willin' and trillin' like mad;
Sae silvery sweet that we a' throng aroun',
And some o' it's gay, but the maist o' it's sad.
Jist the wee simple airs that sink intae your hert,
And grup ye wi' love and wi' longin' for hame;
And ye glour like an owl till you're feelin' the stert
O' a tear, and you blink wi' a feelin' o' shame.
For his song's o' the heather, and here in the dirt
You listen and dream o' a land that's sae braw,
And he mak's you forget a' the harm and the hurt,
For he pipes like a laverock, does Sandy McGraw.

* * * * *

At Eepers I mind me when rank upon rank
We rose from the trenches and swept like the gale,
Till the rapid-fire guns got us fell on the flank
And the murderin' bullets came swishin' like hail:
Till a' that were left o' us faltered and broke;
Till it seemed for a moment a panicky rout,
When shrill through the fume and the flash and the smoke
The wee valiant voice o' a whistle piped out.
`The Campbells are Comin'': Then into the fray
We bounded wi' bayonets reekin' and raw,
And oh we fair revelled in glory that day,
Jist thanks to the whistle o' Sandy McGraw.

* * * * *

At Loose, it wis after a sconnersome fecht,
On the field o' the slain I wis crawlin' aboot;
And the rockets were burnin' red holes in the nicht;
And the guns they were veciously thunderin' oot;
When sudden I heard a bit sound like a sigh,
And there in a crump-hole a kiltie I saw:
"Whit ails ye, ma lad? Are ye woundit?" says I.
"I've lost ma wee whustle," says Sandy McGraw.
"'Twas oot by yon bing where we pressed the attack,
It drapped frae ma pooch, and between noo and dawn
There isna much time so I'm jist crawlin' back. . . ."
"Ye're daft, man!" I telt him, but Sandy wis gone.
Weel, I waited a wee, then I crawled oot masel,
And the big stuff wis gorin' and roarin' around,
And I seemed tae be under the oxter o' hell,
And Creation wis crackin' tae bits by the sound.
And I says in ma mind: "Gang ye back, ye auld fule!"
When I thrilled tae a note that wis saucy and sma';
And there in a crater, collected and cool,
Wi' his wee penny whistle wis Sandy McGraw.
Ay, there he wis playin' as gleg as could be,
And listenin' hard wis a spectacled Boche;
Then Sandy turned roon' and he noddit tae me,
And he says: "Dinna blab on me, Sergeant McTosh.
The auld chap is deein'. He likes me tae play.
It's makin' him happy. Jist see his een shine!"
And thrillin' and sweet in the hert o' the fray
Wee Sandy wis playin' The Watch on the Rhine.

* * * * *

The last scene o' a' -- 'twas the day that we took
That bit o' black ruin they ca' Labbiesell.
It seemed the hale hillside jist shivered and shook,
And the red skies were roarin' and spewin' oot shell.
And the Sergeants were cursin' tae keep us in hand,
And hard on the leash we were strainin' like dugs,
When upward we shot at the word o' command,
And the bullets were dingin' their songs in oor lugs.
And onward we swept wi' a yell and a cheer,
And a' wis destruction, confusion and din,
And we knew that the trench o' the Boches wis near,
And it seemed jist the safest bit hole tae be in.
So we a' tumbled doon, and the Boches were there,
And they held up their hands, and they yelled: "Kamarad!"
And I merched aff wi' ten, wi' their palms in the air,
And my! I wis prood-like, and my! I wis glad.
And I thocht: if ma lassie could see me jist then. . . .
When sudden I sobered at somethin' I saw,
And I stopped and I stared, and I halted ma men,
For there on a stretcher wis Sandy McGraw.
Weel, he looks in ma face, jist as game as ye please:
"Ye ken hoo I hate tae be workin'," says he;
"But noo I can play in the street for bawbees,
Wi' baith o' ma legs taken aff at the knee."
And though I could see he wis rackit wi' pain,
He reached for his whistle and stertit tae play;
And quaverin' sweet wis the pensive refrain:
The floors o' the forest are a' wede away.
Then sudden he stoppit: "Man, wis it no grand
Hoo we took a' them trenches?" . . . He shakit his heid:
"I'll -- no -- play -- nae -- mair ----" feebly doon frae his hand
Slipped the wee penny whistle and -- Sandy wis deid.

* * * * *

And so you may talk o' your Steinways and Strads,
Your wonderful organs and brasses sae braw;
But oot in the trenches jist gie me, ma lads,
Yon wee penny whistle o' Sandy McGraw.

Editor 1 Interpretation

The Whistle Of Sandy McGraw: A Classic Poem by Robert Service

As I sit down to pen my thoughts on Robert Service's classic poem, The Whistle Of Sandy McGraw, my heart is aflutter with excitement. How could it not be? This is a tale of adventure, of the Wild West, of a man who was a legend in his own time. So, let's dive in and explore the depths of this stirring masterpiece.

Background

The Whistle Of Sandy McGraw was first published in 1917, and it quickly became a hit with the readers. The poem tells the story of Sandy McGraw, a man who was known throughout the Wild West for his sharpshooting skills, his bravery, and his trusty whistle. Sandy's whistle was his trademark, and it was said that he could summon his horse from miles away with just a few notes.

Analysis

The Whistle Of Sandy McGraw is a narrative poem that tells the story of Sandy and his whistle. The poem is divided into four stanzas, and each stanza tells a different part of the story.

Stanza One

The first stanza sets the scene and introduces us to the main character, Sandy McGraw. Service opens the poem with a description of the Wild West, a place where "the sky is big and the land is wide". He then goes on to describe Sandy, telling us that he was a man of exceptional skill and courage, and that he was always ready to help those in need.

But what really captures the reader's attention is the description of Sandy's whistle. Service tells us that it was a "silver tube on a leather thong", and that it was Sandy's way of calling his horse. This simple object becomes a symbol of Sandy's power and his connection to the land.

Stanza Two

In the second stanza, Service introduces us to the conflict of the story. Sandy is called to help a group of settlers who are being attacked by bandits. As he sets out to help them, he blows his whistle to summon his horse.

Service's use of sound is particularly effective in this stanza. He describes the sound of the whistle as "shrill and clear", and we can almost hear it piercing through the silence of the Wild West. This creates a sense of urgency and tension, and we can feel the danger that Sandy is about to face.

Stanza Three

The third stanza is the climax of the story. Sandy rides into the fray, his trusty whistle by his side. The bandits are no match for him, and he easily defeats them. But as he rides away, he realizes that his whistle is missing. He retraces his steps and finally finds it, but not before he is ambushed by the bandits.

This stanza is the most action-packed of the poem, and Service's use of language is particularly vivid. He describes the bandits as "snarling wolves", and we can almost see them circling around Sandy. But Sandy is no ordinary man, and he fights them off with ease.

Stanza Four

The final stanza is a reflection on Sandy's legacy. Service tells us that Sandy's whistle became famous throughout the Wild West, and that it was a symbol of his bravery and his connection to the land. He also tells us that Sandy died a hero, "with his whistle in his hand".

This stanza is perhaps the most emotional of the poem. Service's use of language is poignant and powerful, and we can feel the weight of Sandy's legacy. The image of him dying with his whistle in his hand is particularly moving, and it cements Sandy's place in the annals of the Wild West.

Interpretation

The Whistle Of Sandy McGraw is a poem that celebrates the Wild West and the people who lived there. It is a tribute to the brave men and women who fought to tame the land and make it their home. But it is also a tribute to the simple objects that became symbols of their power and their connection to the land.

At its heart, The Whistle Of Sandy McGraw is a story about courage, bravery, and the power of the human spirit. It is a reminder that even in the face of danger and adversity, we can find strength within ourselves. It is a reminder that we are capable of greatness, and that our actions can have a lasting impact on the world around us.

Conclusion

In conclusion, The Whistle Of Sandy McGraw is a classic poem that has stood the test of time. It is a testament to Robert Service's talent as a writer, and it continues to capture the imagination of readers around the world. It is a poem that celebrates the Wild West and the people who lived there, and it reminds us of the power of courage, bravery, and the human spirit.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

The Whistle of Sandy McGraw: A Classic Poem by Robert Service

If you're a fan of classic poetry, then you've probably heard of Robert Service. He's known for his vivid descriptions of the Canadian wilderness and the people who inhabit it. One of his most famous poems is "The Whistle of Sandy McGraw," which tells the story of a man who is haunted by the sound of a train whistle. In this article, we'll take a closer look at this classic poem and explore its themes and meanings.

The poem begins with the narrator describing the sound of a train whistle in the distance. He notes that the sound is "wild and weird" and that it seems to be calling out to him. He then introduces us to Sandy McGraw, a man who is also haunted by the sound of the whistle. Sandy is described as a "wild and woolly" man who is always on the move. He's a "rolling stone" who never stays in one place for too long.

As the poem progresses, we learn more about Sandy's obsession with the train whistle. He hears it everywhere he goes, and it seems to be driving him mad. He tries to drown out the sound with music and alcohol, but nothing seems to work. The whistle is always there, haunting him.

The poem then takes a darker turn as we learn about Sandy's past. He was once a railroad worker, but he lost his job after a tragic accident. He was responsible for a train crash that killed several people, and he's been haunted by the guilt ever since. The sound of the whistle reminds him of his past mistakes and the lives he's destroyed.

Despite his guilt, Sandy can't seem to escape the sound of the whistle. It's always there, calling out to him. He even tries to end his own life, but the whistle saves him. It's as if the sound has a life of its own, and it won't let Sandy go.

So what does this poem mean? On the surface, it's a story about a man who is haunted by a train whistle. But if we look deeper, we can see that it's about much more than that. It's a story about guilt, regret, and the things that haunt us.

Sandy is a man who is haunted by his past mistakes. He knows that he's done something terrible, and he can't forgive himself for it. The sound of the whistle is a constant reminder of his guilt, and it's driving him mad. But at the same time, the whistle is also a symbol of hope. It's what saves Sandy from himself when he tries to end his own life. It's a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there is always a glimmer of hope.

The poem also explores the theme of the human condition. We all have things that haunt us, whether it's past mistakes, regrets, or fears. We try to drown out these feelings with distractions like music and alcohol, but they always come back. The sound of the whistle is a metaphor for these haunting feelings. It's always there, calling out to us, reminding us of our past mistakes.

In conclusion, "The Whistle of Sandy McGraw" is a classic poem that explores themes of guilt, regret, and the human condition. It's a haunting tale of a man who is haunted by the sound of a train whistle, and it's a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there is always hope. Robert Service was a master of storytelling, and this poem is a testament to his skill as a poet. If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend giving it a try. You won't be disappointed.

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