'The Ghosts' by Robert Service
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Rhymes of a Rolling StoneSmith, great writer of stories, drank; found it immortalized his pen;
Fused in his brain-pan, else a blank, heavens of glory now and then;
Gave him the magical genius touch; God-given power to gouge out, fling
Flat in your face a soul-thought -- Bing!
Twiddle your heart-strings in his clutch. "Bah!" said Smith, "let my body liestripped to the buff in swinish shame,
If I can blaze in the radiant sky out of adoring stars my name.
Sober am I nonentitized; drunk am I more than half a god.
Well, let the flesh be sacrificed; spirit shall speak and shame the clod.
Who would not gladly, gladly give Life to do one thing that will live?"Smith had a friend, we'll call him Brown; dearer than brothers were those two.
When in the wassail Smith would drown, Brown would rescue and pull him through.
When Brown was needful Smith would lend; so it fell as the years went by,
Each on the other would depend: then at the last Smith came to die.There Brown sat in the sick man's room, still as a stone in his despair;
Smith bent on him his eyes of doom, shook back his lion mane of hair;
Said: "Is there one in my chosen line, writer of forthright tales my peer?
Look in that little desk of mine; there is a package, bring it here.
Story of stories, gem of all; essence and triumph, key and clue;
Tale of a loving woman's fall; soul swept hell-ward, and God! it's true.
I was the man -- Oh, yes, I've paid, paid with mighty and mordant pain.
Look! here's the masterpiece I've made out of my sin, my manhood slain.
Art supreme! yet the world would stare, know my mistress and blaze my shame.
I have a wife and daughter -- there! take it and thrust it in the flame."Brown answered: "Master, you have dipped pen in your heart, your phrases sear.
Ruthless, unflinching, you have stripped naked your soul and set it here.
Have I not loved you well and true? See! between us the shadows drift;
This bit of blood and tears means You -- oh, let me have it, a parting gift.
Sacred I'll hold it, a trust divine; sacred your honour, her dark despair;
Never shall it see printed line: here, by the living God I swear."
Brown on a Bible laid his hand; Smith, great writer of stories, sighed:
"Comrade, I trust you, and understand. Keep my secret!" And so he died.Smith was buried -- up soared his sales; lured you his books in every store;
Exquisite, whimsy, heart-wrung tales; men devoured them and craved for more.
So when it slyly got about Brown had a posthumous manuscript,
Jones, the publisher, sought him out, into his pocket deep he dipped.
"A thousand dollars?" Brown shook his head. "The story is not for sale, " he said.Jones went away, then others came. Tempted and taunted, Brown was true.
Guarded at friendship's shrine the fame of the unpublished story grew and grew.
It's a long, long lane that has no end, but some lanes end in the Potter's field;
Smith to Brown had been more than friend: patron, protector, spur and shield.
Poor, loving-wistful, dreamy Brown, long and lean, with a smile askew,
Friendless he wandered up and down, gaunt as a wolf, as hungry too.
Brown with his lilt of saucy rhyme, Brown with his tilt of tender mirth
Garretless in the gloom and grime, singing his glad, mad songs of earth:
So at last with a faith divine, down and down to the Hunger-line.There as he stood in a woeful plight, tears a-freeze on his sharp cheek-bones,
Who should chance to behold his plight, but the publisher, the plethoric Jones;
Peered at him for a little while, held out a bill: "NOW, will you sell?"
Brown scanned it with his twisted smile: "A thousand dollars! you go to hell!"Brown enrolled in the homeless host, sleeping anywhere, anywhen;
Suffered, strove, became a ghost, slave of the lamp for other men;
For What's-his-name and So-and-so in the abyss his soul he stripped,
Yet in his want, his worst of woe, held he fast to the manuscript.
Then one day as he chewed his pen, half in hunger and half despair,
Creaked the door of his garret den; Dick, his brother, was standing there.
Down on the pallet bed he sank, ashen his face, his voice a wail:
"Save me, brother! I've robbed the bank; to-morrow it's ruin, capture, gaol.
Yet there's a chance: I could to-day pay back the money, save our name;
You have a manuscript, they say, worth a thousand -- think, man! the shame. . . ."
Brown with his heart pain-pierced the while, with his stern, starved face,and his lips stone-pale,
Shuddered and smiled his twisted smile: "Brother, I guess you go to gaol."While poor Brown in the leer of dawn wrestled with God for the sacred fire,
Came there a woman weak and wan, out of the mob, the murk, the mire;
Frail as a reed, a fellow ghost, weary with woe, with sorrowing;
Two pale souls in the legion lost; lo! Love bent with a tender wing,
Taught them a joy so deep, so true, it seemed that the whole-world fabric shook,
Thrilled and dissolved in radiant dew; then Brown made him a golden book,
Full of the faith that Life is good, that the earth is a dream divinely fair,
Lauding his gem of womanhood in many a lyric rich and rare;
Took it to Jones, who shook his head: "I will consider it," he said.While he considered, Brown's wife lay clutched in the tentacles of pain;
Then came the doctor, grave and grey; spoke of decline, of nervous strain;
Hinted Egypt, the South of France -- Brown with terror was tiger-gripped.
Where was the money? What the chance? Pitiful God! . . . the manuscript!
A thousand dollars! his only hope! he gazed and gazed at the garret wall. . . .
Reached at last for the envelope, turned to his wife and told her all.
Told of his friend, his promise true; told like his very heart would break:
"Oh, my dearest! what shall I do? shall I not sell it for your sake?"
Ghostlike she lay, as still as doom; turned to the wall her weary head;
Icy-cold in the pallid gloom, silent as death . . . at last she said:
"Do! my husband? Keep your vow! Guard his secret and let me die. . . .
Oh, my dear, I must tell you now --
Editor 1 Interpretation
The Ghosts by Robert Service: A Haunting Tale
Have you ever felt the chill of fear creeping up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end, at the mere mention of ghosts? Robert Service, the famous poet of the Yukon, captures the eerie essence of ghosts in his classic poem, "The Ghosts". In this literary criticism and interpretation, I will delve into the themes, symbolism, and literary devices used by Service to create a haunting tale that continues to send shivers down readers' spines more than a century after its publication.
The Theme of Loss
At the heart of "The Ghosts" lies the theme of loss. The poem is set in a cemetery, where the ghosts of the dead come alive to revisit the past and lament their lost loves, hopes, and dreams. Service paints a vivid picture of the cemetery, with its "silent graves" and "monuments of pain". The ghosts are described as "wraiths of sorrow", "phantoms of regret", and "shadows of despair". They are trapped in a limbo between life and death, unable to move on from their earthly desires and attachments.
One of the most poignant moments in the poem is when a ghostly wife mourns her lost husband. She recalls their happy times together, their "fireside joys" and "wedded bliss". But now, she is left alone in the cemetery, with nothing but her memories and regrets. The use of the word "wedded" emphasizes the depth of her loss, as it implies a lifelong commitment that has been abruptly cut short by death. The repetition of the phrase "Oh love, my love!" adds to the emotional intensity of the scene.
Another ghost, a soldier killed in battle, expresses his regret at leaving behind his wife and child. He yearns to return to them, but knows that he cannot. The use of the word "sires" to describe his son emphasizes his role as a father and his duty to protect and provide for his family. The ghost's lament also highlights the senselessness of war and the tragic consequences of violence.
The Symbolism of the Cemetery
The cemetery in "The Ghosts" serves as a powerful symbol of death and decay. It is a place of finality, where the living are separated from the dead. The graves and monuments serve as reminders of the mortality of human beings and the fleeting nature of life. The use of the word "sepulchral" to describe the cemetery emphasizes its ominous and foreboding nature.
The cemetery also symbolizes the past, and the ghosts' inability to move on from it. They are trapped in a state of limbo, unable to let go of their earthly desires and attachments. The use of the phrase "dead but unforgotten" emphasizes their sense of isolation and loneliness.
The Literary Devices Used
Service employs several literary devices to create a haunting and memorable poem. One of the most effective is his use of repetition. The phrase "silent graves" is repeated several times throughout the poem, emphasizing the stillness and quietness of the cemetery. The repetition of the phrase "Oh love, my love!" adds to the emotional intensity of the ghostly wife's lament.
Service also uses alliteration to create a sense of rhythm and musicality. The phrase "monuments of pain" is an example of alliteration, as is the phrase "ghosts of gloom". The use of alliteration adds to the eerie and haunting atmosphere of the poem.
The poem also contains several instances of personification. The cemetery is described as "breathing a dusk of dread", and the ghosts are described as "wraiths of sorrow" and "shadows of despair". These personifications add to the sense of foreboding and unease in the poem.
Conclusion
In "The Ghosts", Robert Service creates a haunting and memorable poem that explores the themes of loss, regret, and mortality. Through his use of symbolism and literary devices, he captures the eerie essence of ghosts and the sense of foreboding and unease associated with death. The poem continues to resonate with readers more than a century after its publication, and its power to send shivers down readers' spines is a testament to Service's skill as a poet.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Poetry has always been a medium of expression for the human soul. It has the power to evoke emotions, to transport us to different worlds, and to make us feel alive. One such poem that has stood the test of time is "The Ghosts" by Robert Service. This classic poem is a haunting tale of lost love, regret, and the ghosts that haunt us.
The poem begins with the speaker walking through a graveyard on a moonlit night. He is surrounded by the graves of the dead, and the silence is broken only by the sound of his footsteps. As he walks, he begins to feel a sense of unease, as if he is being watched by unseen eyes. He wonders if the dead are aware of his presence, and if they are, what they think of him.
The speaker then begins to reflect on his own life, and the mistakes he has made. He thinks of the woman he loved, but who he lost because of his own foolishness. He wonders if she too is buried in the graveyard, and if she too is watching him from beyond the grave. He feels a sense of guilt and regret, and wishes he could turn back time and make things right.
As the poem progresses, the speaker becomes more and more consumed by his thoughts and emotions. He begins to see the ghosts of the dead rising from their graves, and he imagines that they are coming to judge him for his sins. He feels a sense of terror, and wonders if he will ever be able to escape the ghosts that haunt him.
The poem reaches its climax when the speaker sees the ghost of his lost love. She appears before him, and he is filled with a sense of longing and sadness. He realizes that he will never be able to be with her again, and that he will always be haunted by the memory of what could have been. The poem ends with the speaker walking away from the graveyard, still haunted by the ghosts of his past.
"The Ghosts" is a powerful poem that speaks to the human experience of loss, regret, and the fear of death. It is a reminder that we are all mortal, and that we will all one day face the ghosts of our past. The poem is also a testament to the power of poetry to evoke emotions and to transport us to different worlds.
One of the most striking aspects of the poem is its use of imagery. The graveyard is described in vivid detail, with the moonlight casting eerie shadows on the graves. The speaker's sense of unease is palpable, and we can almost feel the weight of the dead watching him. The ghosts themselves are also described in vivid detail, with their pale faces and hollow eyes. The image of the ghost of the lost love is particularly haunting, as we can feel the speaker's longing and sadness.
Another aspect of the poem that stands out is its use of language. Robert Service was a master of rhyme and meter, and "The Ghosts" is no exception. The poem has a musical quality to it, with its steady rhythm and rhyming couplets. The language is also rich and evocative, with phrases like "the dead that rise from their graves" and "the ghosts that haunt us." The poem is a pleasure to read aloud, and its musicality adds to its emotional impact.
The theme of the poem is universal, and it speaks to the human experience of loss and regret. We have all made mistakes in our lives, and we have all lost people we love. The poem reminds us that we cannot escape the ghosts of our past, and that we must learn to live with them. It is a powerful message, and one that is as relevant today as it was when the poem was first written.
In conclusion, "The Ghosts" is a classic poem that has stood the test of time. It is a haunting tale of lost love, regret, and the ghosts that haunt us. The poem is a testament to the power of poetry to evoke emotions and to transport us to different worlds. Its use of imagery and language is masterful, and its theme is universal. It is a poem that will continue to resonate with readers for generations to come.
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