Analysis of The Three Tommies
Robert William Service 1874 – 1958
That Barret, the painter of pictures, what feeling for color he had!
And Fanning, the maker of music, such melodies mirthful and mad!
And Harley, the writer of stories, so whimsical, tender and glad!
To hark to their talk in the trenches, high heart unfolding to heart,
Of the day when the war would be over, and each would be true to his part,
Upbuilding a Palace of Beauty to the wonder and glory of Art . . .
Yon's Barret, the painter of pictures, yon carcass that rots on the wire;
His hand with its sensitive cunning is crisped to a cinder with fire;
His eyes with their magical vision are bubbles of glutinous mire.
Poor Fanning! He sought to discover the symphonic note of a shell;
There are bits of him broken and bloody, to show you the place where he fell;
I've reason to fear on his exquisite ear the rats have been banqueting well.
And speaking of Harley, the writer, I fancy I looked on him last,
Sprawling and staring and writhing in the roar of the battle blast;
Then a mad gun-team crashed over, and scattered his brains as it passed.
Oh, Harley and Fanning and Barret, they were bloody good mates o' mine;
Their bodies are empty bottles; Death has guzzled the wine;
What's left of them's filth and corruption. . . . Where is the Fire Divine?
I'll tell you. . . . At night in the trenches, as I watch and I do my part,
Three radiant spirits I'm seeing, high heart revealing to heart,
And they're building a peerless palace to the splendor and triumph of Art.
Yet, alas! for the fame of Barret, the glory he might have trailed!
And alas! for the name of Fanning, a star that beaconed and paled,
Poor Harley, obscure and forgotten. . . . Well, who shall say that they failed!
No, each did a Something Grander than ever he dreamed to do;
And as for the work unfinished, all will be paid their due;
The broken ends will be fitted, the balance struck will be true.
So painters, and players, and penmen, I tell you: Do as you please;
Let your fame outleap on the trumpets, you'll never rise up to these --
To three grim and gory Tommies, down, down on your bended knees!
Scheme | AAA BBB CCX DDD EEE FFF BBB GGG HHH III |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11001011011011011 0100101101100101 01001011011001001 1111100101101011 101101111001111111 1010110101001011 110010110110111010 111110010111010110 111110010110111 11011101000101101 111111001011101111 11011111001011111 01011001011011111 1001001000110101 1011111001011111 11001001010101111 1101101011101 1111100101101001 11111001011101111 1100101101101011 011001010101001011 1011011100101111 001101110011101 1100100101111111 111010101101111 01101010111111 010111100101111 110010011111111 111110101101111 11101011111101 |
Closest metre | Iambic octameter |
Characters | 2,059 |
Words | 382 |
Sentences | 31 |
Stanzas | 10 |
Stanza Lengths | 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3 |
Lines Amount | 30 |
Letters per line (avg) | 53 |
Words per line (avg) | 13 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 160 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 39 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:57 min read
- 31 Views
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