Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE CALL, by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: The best of luck Last Line: Come, lads. | ||||||||
Persons: SETH HERDMAN, a fireman. MARY HERDMAN, his mother. CHRISTOPHER BELL, a fireman. Scene: The engine-house of a fire-station. The men are gathered in knots, talking in subdued voices, scarcely audible above the racket of the street. SETH HERDMAN paces backwards and forwards, impetuously, by himself, when CHRISTOPHER BELL approaches him, holding out his hand. CHRISTOPHER. The best of luck! SETH. I fear there's little hope. CHRISTOPHER. Nay, keep your heart up. You can never tell. When my first lass was born, my wife had long been ailing: There seemed to be no chance for her: And now, though she's the mother Of six brave, sonsy lasses, She's heartier than she's been in all her life. SETH. The doctor says... CHRISTOPHER. But even doctors don't know everything. Your wife was always plucky, And she'll surprise them yet. You must be plucky, too. Your mother tends her -- and you know your mother! And only think, if all goes well upstairs, How proud you'll be! For I'm a father, and I know. There's not a prouder man in all the world. SETH. If all goes well... CHRISTOPHER. You'll be the happiest man... There'll be no doing with you! SETH. If I but knew! CHRISTOPHER. The waiting's a sore trial. But think, what luck we're not called out to-night! It would be hard to go... SETH. It's harder still to stand here, doing nothing, While she ... I'd bear it better, If only I'd a job to tackle -- A job that left no time for thinking. I'd rather be upon a blazing roof, Than standing idle, with such thoughts at work, While she... CHRISTOPHER. Ay, lad, I understand. Uncertainty's the devil. But dwell upon the lucky chance, And maybe, 'twill be yours: And then you'll be the happiest of men. You cannot think the difference children make: No house is home, unless there's children in it. My girls are always in my mind: And yet, whenever I go in, It's fresh delight to see them, And take them in my arms. They're more to me than I can tell you; I'm always dull at saying The thing that's in my heart: But they have brought so much to me, And just made all the difference to my life -- Ay, to my life and work -- For now I've them to work for. Though I was never slack, they hearten me; And when I hear the cry That there are children in a burning house, I always think of them, And see their faces in the flames, Their arms stretched out to me; And hear their little voices calling, "Daddy!" Then naught could hold me back. SETH. Ay, you were always reckless. CHRISTOPHER. Not reckless, lad. No father dare be reckless. Upon the toppling walls, Amid the flames and smoke, I always know they're 'waiting me at home, That I must win through all to them. And when at last, perhaps at dawn, I'm free to cross my threshold, Drenched, stifled, scorched and scalded, To see them lying quietly, In dreamless slumber, clean and sweet! SETH. If but the bell would sound, And call us out to tackle The biggest blaze... CHRISTOPHER. Nay, lad, you don't know what you're saying. That thought's not worthy of you: For you're no coward in the face of danger. The waiting's hard to bear; But she bears more than you. SETH. It's her I think of; She bears all ... while I... I can do nothing ... nothing! The doctor said ... Ah, God! If she should not win through! CHRISTOPHER. Lad, at the worst, I know that you'll be brave. But, see, your mother ... Courage! [MARY HERDMAN enters hurriedly, and goes up to SETH, and takes him in her arms, without speaking.] SETH. Mother! MARY. My son! SETH. Is there no hope? MARY. The babe's alive. SETH. And she ... and she... [The fire alarm sounds, and all the men spring to the engine.] Thank God, there's work! Come, lads. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BETWEEN THE LINES by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON BREAKFAST by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON FLANNAN ISLE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON FOR G. by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON GERANIUMS by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON LAMENT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON RETREAT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON RUPERT BROOKE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE GORSE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE ICE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON |
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