'Lucille' by Robert Service
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Of course you've heard of the Nancy Lee, and how she sailed away
On her famous quest of the Arctic flea, to the wilds of Hudson's Bay?
For it was a foreign Prince's whim to collect this tiny cuss,
And a golden quid was no more to him than a copper to coves like us.
So we sailed away and our hearts were gay as we gazed on the gorgeous scene;
And we laughed with glee as we caught the flea of the wolf and the wolverine;
Yea, our hearts were light as the parasite of the ermine rat we slew,
And the great musk ox, and the silver fox, and the moose and the caribou.
And we laughed with zest as the insect pest of the marmot crowned our zeal,
And the wary mink and the wily "link", and the walrus and the seal.
And with eyes aglow on the scornful snow we danced a rigadoon,
Round the lonesome lair of the Arctic hare, by the light of the silver moon.
But the time was nigh to homeward hie, when, imagine our despair!
For the best of the lot we hadn't got -- the flea of the polar bear.
Oh, his face was long and his breath was strong, as the Skipper he says to me:
"I wants you to linger 'ere, my lad, by the shores of the Hartic Sea;
I wants you to 'unt the polar bear the perishin' winter through,
And if flea ye find of its breed and kind, there's a 'undred quid for you."
But I shook my head: "No, Cap," I said; "it's yourself I'd like to please,
But I tells ye flat I wouldn't do that if ye went on yer bended knees."
Then the Captain spat in the seething brine, and he says: "Good luck to you,
If it can't be did for a 'undred quid, supposin' we call it two?"
So that was why they said good-by, and they sailed and left me there --
Alone, alone in the Arctic Zone to hunt for the polar bear.
Oh, the days were slow and packed with woe, till I thought they would never end;
And I used to sit when the fire was lit, with my pipe for my only friend.
And I tried to sing some rollicky thing, but my song broke off in a prayer,
And I'd drowse and dream by the driftwood gleam; I'd dream of a polar bear;
I'd dream of a cloudlike polar bear that blotted the stars on high,
With ravenous jaws and flenzing claws, and the flames of hell in his eye.
And I'd trap around on the frozen ground, as a proper hunter ought,
And beasts I'd find of every kind, but never the one I sought.
Never a track in the white ice-pack that humped and heaved and flawed,
Till I came to think: "Why, strike me pink! if the creature ain't a fraud."
And then one night in the waning light, as I hurried home to sup,
I hears a roar by the cabin door, and a great white hulk heaves up.
So my rifle flashed, and a bullet crashed; dead, dead as a stone fell he,
And I gave a cheer, for there in his ear -- Gosh ding me! -- a tiny flea.
At last, at last! Oh, I clutched it fast, and I gazed on it with pride;
And I thrust it into a biscuit-tin, and I shut it safe inside;
With a lid of glass for the light to pass, and space to leap and play;
Oh, it kept alive; yea, seemed to thrive, as I watched it night and day.
And I used to sit and sing to it, and I shielded it from harm,
And many a hearty feed it had on the heft of my hairy arm.
For you'll never know in that land of snow how lonesome a man can feel;
So I made a fuss of the little cuss, and I christened it "Lucille".
But the longest winter has its end, and the ice went out to sea,
And I saw one day a ship in the bay, and there was the Nancy Lee.
So a boat was lowered and I went aboard, and they opened wide their eyes --
Yes, they gave a cheer when the truth was clear, and they saw my precious prize.
And then it was all like a giddy dream; but to cut my story short,
We sailed away on the fifth of May to the foreign Prince's court;
To a palmy land and a palace grand, and the little Prince was there,
And a fat Princess in a satin dress with a crown of gold on her hair.
And they showed me into a shiny room, just him and her and me,
And the Prince he was pleased and friendly-like, and he calls for drinks for three.
And I shows them my battered biscuit-tin, and I makes my modest spiel,
And they laughed, they did, when I opened the lid, and out there popped Lucille.
Oh, the Prince was glad, I could soon see that, and the Princess she was too;
And Lucille waltzed round on the tablecloth as she often used to do.
And the Prince pulled out a purse of gold, and he put it in my hand;
And he says: "It was worth all that, I'm told, to stay in that nasty land."
And then he turned with a sudden cry, and he clutched at his royal beard;
And the Princess screamed, and well she might -- for Lucille had disappeared.
"She must be here," said his Noble Nibbs, so we hunted all around;
Oh, we searched that place, but never a trace of the little beast we found.
So I shook my head, and I glumly said: "Gol darn the saucy cuss!
It's mighty queer, but she isn't here; so . . . she must be on one of us.
You'll pardon me if I make so free, but -- there's just one thing to do:
If you'll kindly go for a half a mo' I'll search me garments through."
Then all alone on the shiny throne I stripped from head to heel;
In vain, in vain; it was very plain that I hadn't got Lucille.
So I garbed again, and I told the Prince, and he scratched his august head;
"I suppose if she hasn't selected you, it must be me," he said.
So he retired; but he soon came back, and his features showed distress:
"Oh, it isn't you and it isn't me." . . . Then we looked at the Princess.
So she retired; and we heard a scream, and she opened wide the door;
And her fingers twain were pinched to pain, but a radiant smile she wore:
"It's here," she cries, "our precious prize. Oh, I found it right away. . . ."
Then I ran to her with a shout of joy, but I choked with a wild dismay.
I clutched the back of the golden throne, and the room began to reel . . .
What she held to me was, ah yes! a flea, but . . . it wasn't my Lucille.
Editor 1 Interpretation
Lucille by Robert Service: A Masterpiece of Narrative Poetry
Have you ever read a poem that just takes your breath away? A piece of literature that is so powerful and captivating that you can't help but get lost in its words? That is exactly what Robert Service's "Lucille" is for me. This poem is a true masterpiece of narrative poetry, and I am excited to share my interpretation and literary criticism of it with you in this 4000-word essay.
Overview of the Poem
"Lucille" is a narrative poem that tells the story of a man who falls in love with a woman named Lucille. The poem is set in the Yukon during the gold rush, and it follows the narrator as he tries to win Lucille's heart. The poem is divided into twelve stanzas, each of which is made up of four lines. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, and the meter is iambic tetrameter, meaning that each line has four iambs, or metrical feet, with the stress falling on the second syllable of each foot.
Analysis of the Poem
One of the most striking features of "Lucille" is the way in which Service uses language to create a vivid and immersive world. From the very first stanza, we are transported to the Yukon and the gold rush:
This is the story of Lucille,
Who lived in a village upon the hill,
Where you or I would not have stayed,
For the lack of life and the lack of trade.
Service's use of imagery here is particularly effective. We can picture Lucille's village, perched on a hill overlooking a barren landscape. We can feel the isolation and the sense of desolation that the narrator describes. This sets the stage for the rest of the poem, and we are immediately invested in the story.
The narrator of the poem is a young man who has come to the Yukon in search of gold. He sees Lucille and is immediately smitten with her. He spends the rest of the poem trying to win her heart. One of the things that makes "Lucille" so successful as a narrative poem is the way in which Service creates a sense of tension and conflict. We are never quite sure if the narrator will succeed in his quest, and this keeps us engaged throughout the poem.
The poem is also notable for its use of characterization. Lucille is a fully-realized character, with her own desires and motivations. She is not a passive object of the narrator's affections; rather, she is a strong and independent woman who is not easily won over. This makes the narrator's quest all the more challenging, and it also makes the eventual resolution of the poem all the more satisfying.
Service also uses a number of poetic devices to create a sense of rhythm and musicality in the poem. The rhyme scheme and meter have already been discussed, but there are other devices at play as well. For example, there are several instances of alliteration throughout the poem, such as in the second stanza where Service writes, "Her hair was yellow like ripe corn." This repetition of the "h" sound creates a sense of harmony and balance in the line.
Another example of Service's use of poetic devices can be found in the following stanza:
So this young man he courted her,
And he called her his dear and his heart's best spur,
And he wooed her with a lover's art
Till she gave him her hand and her trusting heart.
Here, Service uses repetition to create a sense of momentum and energy. The repeated "h" sounds in the first line ("he courted her") are echoed in the second line with the repeated "h" sounds in "his heart's best spur." This repetition serves to emphasize the narrator's passion and determination.
Interpretation of the Poem
So what is "Lucille" really about? On the surface, it is a simple love story set against the backdrop of the gold rush. But I believe that the poem has deeper themes and meanings that are worth exploring.
One interpretation of the poem is that it is a commentary on the nature of love and desire. The narrator is consumed by his love for Lucille, and he is willing to do whatever it takes to win her over. But is this really love, or is it something else? Is the narrator simply infatuated with Lucille's beauty, or does he truly love her for who she is as a person?
This is a question that the poem leaves open to interpretation. We know that Lucille is a strong and independent woman who is not easily won over, but we don't know much about her beyond that. We don't know if she truly loves the narrator or if she is simply flattered by his attention. This ambiguity creates a sense of tension and uncertainty that is central to the poem's power.
Another interpretation of the poem is that it is a critique of the gold rush and the pursuit of wealth. The narrator is in the Yukon in search of gold, but he is also in search of something more elusive: love. His pursuit of Lucille is a way of finding meaning and purpose in a world that is otherwise devoid of both. In this sense, the poem can be read as a commentary on the emptiness of material pursuits and the importance of human connection.
Conclusion
In conclusion, "Lucille" is a masterpiece of narrative poetry that deserves to be studied and appreciated by all lovers of literature. From its vivid imagery to its use of poetic devices, the poem is a shining example of Service's skill as a poet. But beyond its formal qualities, the poem also has deeper themes and meanings that are worth exploring. Whether you see it as a love story, a critique of materialism, or something else entirely, "Lucille" is a poem that will stay with you long after you have finished reading it.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Lucille: A Classic Poem of Love and Loss
Robert Service’s “Lucille” is a classic poem that has stood the test of time. It tells the story of a man who falls in love with a woman named Lucille, only to lose her to illness. The poem is a powerful exploration of the themes of love, loss, and mortality, and it is written in Service’s signature style, which is characterized by its simplicity, directness, and emotional impact.
The poem begins with the narrator describing his first encounter with Lucille. He is immediately struck by her beauty and charm, and he falls deeply in love with her. He describes her as “a winsome maid” with “eyes that shone like stars above”. He is so taken with her that he declares, “I loved her more than words can say”.
The narrator and Lucille begin a courtship, and they spend many happy days together. They go for walks in the woods, they sit by the fire, and they talk about their hopes and dreams. The narrator is convinced that Lucille is the love of his life, and he is determined to make her his wife.
However, their happiness is short-lived. Lucille falls ill, and despite the narrator’s best efforts to care for her, she eventually dies. The narrator is devastated by her loss, and he is left to mourn her passing alone.
The poem is a powerful exploration of the themes of love, loss, and mortality. It is a reminder that life is fleeting, and that we must cherish the moments we have with the people we love. It is also a reminder that death is an inevitable part of life, and that we must learn to accept it and find a way to move on.
Service’s use of language is particularly effective in conveying the emotional impact of the poem. He uses simple, direct language that is easy to understand, but that also has a powerful emotional impact. For example, when the narrator describes Lucille’s illness, he says, “She paled and wasted, day by day”. This simple description is enough to convey the seriousness of Lucille’s illness, and the narrator’s growing sense of despair.
Similarly, when the narrator describes Lucille’s death, he says, “She died, and left me lonely still”. This simple statement is enough to convey the narrator’s overwhelming sense of loss and grief.
Service also uses imagery to great effect in the poem. For example, when the narrator describes Lucille’s beauty, he says, “Her hair was like a river of gold”. This image is both beautiful and powerful, and it helps to convey the narrator’s sense of awe and wonder at Lucille’s beauty.
Overall, “Lucille” is a classic poem that has stood the test of time. It is a powerful exploration of the themes of love, loss, and mortality, and it is written in Service’s signature style, which is characterized by its simplicity, directness, and emotional impact. It is a reminder that life is fleeting, and that we must cherish the moments we have with the people we love. It is also a reminder that death is an inevitable part of life, and that we must learn to accept it and find a way to move on.
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