Analysis of S.I.W.
"I will to the King,
And offer him consolation in his trouble,
For that man there has set his teeth to die,
And being one that hates obedience,
Discipline, and orderliness of life,
I cannot mourn him."
-- W. B. Yeats.
Patting goodbye, doubtless they told the lad
He'd always show the Hun a brave man's face;
Father would sooner him dead than in disgrace, --
Was proud to see him going, aye, and glad.
Perhaps his Mother whimpered how she'd fret
Until he got a nice, safe wound to nurse.
Sisters would wish girls too could shoot, charge, curse, . . .
Brothers -- would send his favourite cigarette,
Each week, month after month, they wrote the same,
Thinking him sheltered in some Y.M. Hut,
Where once an hour a bullet missed its aim
And misses teased the hunger of his brain.
His eyes grew old with wincing, and his hand
Reckless with ague. Courage leaked, as sand
From the best sandbags after years of rain.
But never leave, wound, fever, trench-foot, shock,
Untrapped the wretch. And death seemed still withheld
For torture of lying machinally shelled,
At the pleasure of this world's Powers who'd run amok.
He'd seen men shoot their hands, on night patrol,
Their people never knew. Yet they were vile.
"Death sooner than dishonour, that's the style!"
So Father said.
One dawn, our wire patrol
Carried him. This time, Death had not missed.
We could do nothing, but wipe his bleeding cough.
Could it be accident? -- Rifles go off . . .
Not sniped? No. (Later they found the English ball.)
It was the reasoned crisis of his soul.
Against the fires that would not burn him whole
But kept him for death's perjury and scoff
And life's half-promising, and both their riling.
With him they buried the muzzle his teeth had kissed,
And truthfully wrote the Mother "Tim died smiling."
|Scheme||AXXXXXX BCCBDEEDFXFGHHGXIIX JKKX JLXMX JJMA LA|
|Metre||11101 01010100110 1111111111 0101110100 1000100011 11011 10011 101101101 111010111 10110111001 1111110101 011101111 0111011111 1011111111 10111101 1111011101 101100111 11110010111 0101010111 1111110011 101110111 101110111 1101110111 101011101 11011011 1010111101101 1111111101 1101011101 11011101 1101 11101001 101111111 11110111101 1111001011 11110110101 1101010111 01010111111 1111110001 0111000111 111100101111 010010101110|
|Closest metre||Iambic pentameter|
|Stanza Lengths||7, 19, 4, 5, 4, 2|
|Letters per line (avg)||33|
|Words per line (avg)||8|
|Letters per stanza (avg)||227|
|Words per stanza (avg)||53|
Submitted on May 13, 2011
- 1:37 min read
- 197 Views
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"S.I.W." Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 21 Mar. 2023. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/38530/s.i.w.>.
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