Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE BROTHERS, by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE BROTHERS, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: All morning they had quarrelled, as they worked
Last Line: "come, robert, cuddle closer, lad, it's cold."


All morning they had quarrelled, as they worked,
A little off their fellows, in the pit:
Dick growled at Robert; Robert said Dick shirked:
And when the roof, dropt more than they had reckoned,
Began to crack and split,
Though both rushed like a shot to set
The pit-props in their places,
Each said the other was to blame,
When, all secure, with flushed and grimy faces,
They faced each other for a second.
All morning they had quarrelled: yet,
Neither had breathed her name.

Again they turned to work:
And in the dusty murk
Of that black gallery
Which ran out three miles underneath the sea,
There was no sound at all,
Save whispering creak of roof and wall,
And crack of coal, and tap of pick,
And now and then a rattling fall:
While Robert worked on steadily, but Dick,
In fits and starts, with teeth clenched tight,
And dark eyes flashing in his lamp's dull light.

And when he paused, nigh spent, to wipe the sweat
From off his dripping brow: and Robert turned
To fling some idle jibe at him, the spark
Of anger, smouldering in him, flared and burned --
Though all his body quivered, wringing-wet --
Till that black hole
To him blazed red,
As if the very coal
Had kindled underfoot and overhead:
Then, gripping tight his pick,
He rushed upon his brother:
But Robert, turning quick,
Leapt up, and now they faced each other.

They faced each other: Dick with arm upraised,
In act to strike, and murder in his eyes...
When, suddenly, with noise of thunder,
The earth shook round them, rumbling o'er and under;
And Dick saw Robert, lying at his feet:
As, close behind, the gallery crashed in:
And almost at his heel, earth gaped asunder.
By black disaster dazed,
His wrath died; and he dropped the pick;
And staggered, dizzily and terror-sick.
But when the dust and din
Had settled to a stillness, dread as death,
And he once more could draw his breath,
He gave a little joyful shout
To find the lamps had not gone out.

And on his knees he fell
Beside his brother, buried in black dust:
And, full of tense misgiving,
He lifted him, and thrust
A knee beneath his head; and cleared
The dust from mouth and nose: but could not tell
Awhile if he were dead or living.
Too fearful to know what he feared,
He fumbled at the open shirt,
And felt till he could feel the heart,
Still beating with a feeble beat:
And then he saw the closed lids part,
And saw the nostrils quiver;
And knew his brother lived, though sorely hurt.

Again he staggered to his feet,
And fetched his water-can, and wet
The ashy lips, and bathed the brow,
Until his brother sat up with a shiver,
And gazed before him with a senseless stare
And dull eyes strangely set.
Too well Dick knew that now
They must not linger there,
Cut off from all their mates, to be o'ertaken
In less than no time by the deadly damp:
So, picking up his lamp,
He made his brother rise;
Then took him by the arm,
And shook him, till he'd shaken
An inkling of the danger and alarm
Into those dull, still eyes:
Then dragged him, and half-carried him, in haste,
To reach the airway, where 'twould still be sweet
When all the gallery was foul with gas:
But, soon as they had reached it, they were faced
By a big fall of roof they could not pass;
And found themselves cut off from all retreat,
On every hand, by that black shining wall;
With naught to do but sit and wait
Till rescue came, if rescue came at all,
And did not come too late.

And, in the fresher airway, light came back
To Robert's eyes, although he never spoke:
And not a sound the deathly quiet broke,
As they sat staring at that wall of black --
As, in the glimmer of the dusky lamp,
They sat and wondered, wondered if the damp --
The stealthy after-damp that creeping, creeping,
Takes strong lads by the throat, and drops them sleeping,
To wake no more for any woman's weeping --
Would steal upon them, ere the rescue came....
And if the rescuers would find them sitting,
Would find them sitting cold...
Then, as they sat and wondered, like a flame
One thought burned up both hearts:
Still, neither breathed her name.

And now their thoughts dropped back into the pit,
And through the league-long gallery went flitting
With speed no fall could hold:
They wondered how their mates had fared:
If they'd been struck stone-dead,
Or if they shared
Like fate with them, or reached the shaft,
Unhurt, and only scared,
Before disaster overtook them:
And then, although their courage ne'er forsook them,
They wondered once again if they must sit
Awaiting death ... but knowing well
That even for a while to dwell
On such like thoughts will drive a strong man daft:
They shook themselves until their thoughts ran free
Along the drift, and clambered in the cage;
And in a trice were shooting up the shaft:
But when their thoughts had come to the pithead,
And found the fearful people gathered there,
Beneath the noonday sun,
Bright-eyed with terror, blinded by despair,
Dick rose, and with his chalk wrote on the wall,
This message for their folk:
"We can't get any further, 12, noonday" --
And signed both names; and, when he'd done,
Though neither of them spoke,
They both seemed easier in a way,
Now that they'd left a word,
Though nothing but a scrawl.

And silent still they sat,
And never stirred:
And Dick's thoughts dwelt on this and that:
How, far above their heads, upon the sea
The sun was shining merrily,
And in its golden glancing
The windy waves were dancing:
And how he'd slipt that morning on his way:
And how on Friday, when he drew his pay,
He'd buy a blanket for his whippet, Nell;
He felt dead certain she would win the race,
On Saturday ... though you could never tell,
There were such odds against her ... but his face
Lit up as though, even now, he saw her run,
A little slip of lightning, in the sun:
While Robert's thoughts were ever on the match
His team was booked to play on Saturday;
He placed the field, and settled who should play
In Will Burn's stead; for Will he had a doubt
Was scarcely up to form, although...

Just then, the lamp went slowly out.

Still, neither stirred,
Nor spoke a word;
Though either's breath came quickly, with a catch.

And now again one thought
Set both their hearts afire
In one fierce flame
Of quick desire:
Though neither breathed her name.

Then Dick stretched out his hand; and caught
His brother's arm; and whispered in his ear:
"Bob, lad, there's naught to fear...
And, when we're out, lad, you and she shall wed."

Bob gripped Dick's hand; and then no more was said,
As, slowly, all about them rose
The deadly after-damp; but close
They sat together, hand in hand.
Then their minds wandered; and Dick seemed to stand
And shout till he was hoarse
To speed his winning whippet down the course...
And Robert, with the ball
Secure within his oxter charged ahead
Straight for the goal, and none could hold,
Though many tried a fall.

Then dreaming they were lucky boys in bed
Once more, and lying snugly by each other:
Dick, with his arms clasped tight about his brother,
Whispered with failing breath
Into the ear of death:
"Come, Robert, cuddle closer, lad, it's cold."





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