Analysis of The Telegraph Operator
Robert William Service 1874 – 1958
I will not wash my face;
I will not brush my hair;
I "pig" around the place--
There's nobody to care.
Nothing but rock and tree;
Nothing but wood and stone,
Oh, God, it's hell to be
Alone, alone, alone!
Snow-peaks and deep-gashed draws
Corral me in a ring.
I feel as if I was
The only living thing
On all this blighted earth;
And so I frowst and shrink,
And crouching by my hearth
I hear the thoughts I think.
I think of all I miss--
The boys I used to know;
The girls I used to kiss;
The coin I used to blow:
The bars I used to haunt;
The racket and the row;
The beers I didn't want
(I wish I had 'em now).
Day after day the same,
Only a little worse;
No one to grouch or blame--
Oh, for a loving curse!
Oh, in the night I fear,
Haunted by nameless things,
Just for a voice to cheer,
Just for a hand that clings!
Faintly as from a star
Voices come o'er the line;
Voices of ghosts afar,
Not in this world of mine;
Lives in whose loom I grope;
Words in whose weft I hear
Eager the thrill of hope,
Awful the chill of fear.
I'm thinking out aloud;
I reckon that is bad;
(The snow is like a shroud)--
Maybe I'm going mad.
Say! wouldn't that be tough?
This awful hush that hugs
And chokes one is enough
To make a man go "bugs".
There's not a thing to do;
I cannot sleep at night;
No wonder I'm so blue;
Oh, for a friendly fight!
The din and rush of strife;
A music-hall aglow;
A crowd, a city, life--
Dear God, I miss it so!
Here, you have moped enough!
Brace up and play the game!
But say, it's awful tough--
Day after day the same
(I've said that twice, I bet).
Well, there's not much to say.
I wish I had a pet,
Or something I could play.
Cheer up! don't get so glum
And sick of everything;
The worst is yet to come;
God help you till the Spring.
God shield you from the Fear;
Teach you to laugh, not moan.
Ha! ha! it sounds so queer--
Alone, alone, alone!
Scheme | ababcdcD xexexfxf ghghxhxx Ijijklkl mnmnoxok pqpqrsrs tutuvhvh rirIwxwx yeyekdkD |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 111111 111111 110101 1111 101101 101101 111111 010101 110111 011001 111111 010101 111101 011101 010111 110111 111111 011111 011111 011111 011111 010001 011101 111111 110101 100101 111111 110101 100111 101101 110111 110111 101101 1011001 101101 101111 101111 101111 100111 100111 110101 110111 011101 101101 110111 110111 011101 110111 110111 110111 110111 110101 010111 010101 010101 111111 111101 110101 111101 110101 111111 111111 111101 110111 111111 01110 011111 111101 111101 111111 111111 010101 |
Closest metre | Iambic trimeter |
Characters | 1,791 |
Words | 381 |
Sentences | 26 |
Stanzas | 9 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8 |
Lines Amount | 72 |
Letters per line (avg) | 19 |
Words per line (avg) | 5 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 151 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 42 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:58 min read
- 42 Views
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"The Telegraph Operator" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 6 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/32662/the-telegraph-operator>.
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