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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE OLD MAN by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON

Poet Analysis

First Line: THE BOAT PUT IN AT DEAD OF NIGHT
Last Line: UPON MY FATHER'S EMPTY CHAIR.
The boat put in at dead of night;
And when I reached the house, 'twas sleeping dark.
I knew my gentlest tap would be a spark
To set my home alight:
My mother ever listening in her sleep
For my returning step, would leap
Awake with welcome; and my father's eyes
Would twinkle merrily to greet me;
And my young sister would run down to meet me
With sleepy sweet surprise.

And yet, awhile I lingered
Upon the threshold, listening;
And watched the cold stars glistening,
And seemed to hear the deep
Calm breathing of the house asleep --
In easy sleep, so deep, I almost feared to break it
And, even as I fingered
The knocker, loth to wake it,
Like some uncanny inkling
Of news from otherwhere,
I felt a cold breath in my hair,
As though, with chin upon my shoulder,
One waited hard, upon my heel,
With pricking eyes of steel,
Though well I knew that not a soul was there.

Until, at last, grown bolder,
I rapped; and in a twinkling,
The house was all afire
With welcome in the night:
First, in my mother's room, a light;
And then, her foot upon the stair;
A bolt shot back; a candle's flare;
A happy cry; and to her breast
She hugged her heart's desire,
And hushed her fears to rest.

Then, shivering in the keen night air,
My sleepy sister laughing came;
And drew us in: and stirred to flame
The smouldering kitchen-fire; and set
The kettle on the kindling red:
And as I watched the homely blaze,
And thought of wandering days
With sharp regret,
I missed my father: then I heard
How he was still a-bed;
And had been ailing, for a day or so;
But now was waking, if I'd go...
My foot already on the stair,
In answer to my mother's word
I turned; and saw in dull amaze,
Behind her, as she stood all unaware,
An old man sitting in my father's chair.

A strange old man ... yet, as I looked at him,
Before my eyes a dim
Remembrance seemed to swim
Of some old man, who'd lurked about the boat,
While we were still at sea;
And who had crouched beside me, at the oar,
As we had rowed ashore;
Though, at the time, I'd taken little note,
I felt I'd seen that strange old man before:
But how he'd come to follow me,
Unknown...
And to be sitting there...
Then I recalled the cold breath in my hair,
When I had stood, alone,
Before the bolted door.

And now my mother, wondering sore
To see me stare and stare,
So strangely, at an empty chair,
Turned, too; and saw the old man there.

And as she turned, he slowly raised
His drooping head,
And looked upon her with her husband's eyes.
She stood, a moment, dazed
And watched him slowly rise,
As though to come to her:
Then, with a cry, she sped
Upstairs, ere I could stir.

Still dazed, I let her go, alone:
I heard her footsteps overhead:
I heard her drop beside the bed,
With low forsaken moan.

Yet, I could only stare and stare
Upon my father's empty chair.



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