'Afternoon Tea' by Robert Service


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As I was saying . . . (No, thank you; I never take cream with my tea;
Cows weren't allowed in the trenches -- got out of the habit, y'see.)
As I was saying, our Colonel leaped up like a youngster of ten:
"Come on, lads!" he shouts, "and we'll show 'em," and he sprang to the head of the men.
Then some bally thing seemed to trip him, and he fell on his face with a slam. . . .
Oh, he died like a true British soldier, and the last word he uttered was "Damn!"
And hang it! I loved the old fellow, and something just burst in my brain,
And I cared no more for the bullets than I would for a shower of rain.
'Twas an awf'ly funny sensation (I say, this is jolly nice tea);
I felt as if something had broken; by gad! I was suddenly free.
Free for a glorified moment, beyond regulations and laws,
Free just to wallow in slaughter, as the chap of the Stone Age was.

So on I went joyously nursing a Berserker rage of my own,
And though all my chaps were behind me, feeling most frightf'ly alone;
With the bullets and shells ding-donging, and the "krock" and the swish of the shrap;
And I found myself humming "Ben Bolt" . . . (Will you pass me the sugar, old chap?
Two lumps, please). . . . What was I saying? Oh yes, the jolly old dash;
We simply ripped through the barrage, and on with a roar and a crash.
My fellows -- Old Nick couldn't stop 'em. On, on they went with a yell,
Till they tripped on the Boches' sand-bags, -- nothing much left to tell:
A trench so tattered and battered that even a rat couldn't live;
Some corpses tangled and mangled, wire you could pass through a sieve.

The jolly old guns had bilked us, cheated us out of our show,
And my fellows were simply yearning for a red mix-up with the foe.
So I shouted to them to follow, and on we went roaring again,
Battle-tuned and exultant, on in the leaden rain.
Then all at once a machine gun barks from a bit of a bank,
And our Major roars in a fury: "We've got to take it on flank."
He was running like fire to lead us, when down like a stone he comes,
As full of "typewriter" bullets as a pudding is full of plums.
So I took his job and we got 'em. . . . By gad! we got 'em like rats;
Down in a deep shell-crater we fought like Kilkenny cats.
'Twas pleasant just for a moment to be sheltered and out of range,
With someone you saw to go for -- it made an agreeable change.

And the Boches that missed my bullets, my chaps gave a bayonet jolt,
And all the time, I remember, I whistled and hummed "Ben Bolt".
Well, that little job was over, so hell for leather we ran,
On to the second line trenches, -- that's where the fun began.
For though we had strafed 'em like fury, there still were some Boches about,
And my fellows, teeth set and eyes glaring, like terriers routed 'em out.
Then I stumbled on one of their dug-outs, and I shouted: "Is anyone there?"
And a voice, "Yes, one; but I'm wounded," came faint up the narrow stair;
And my man was descending before me, when sudden a cry! a shot!
(I say, this cake is delicious. You make it yourself, do you not?)
My man? Oh, they killed the poor devil; for if there was one there was ten;
So after I'd bombed 'em sufficient I went down at the head of my men,
And four tried to sneak from a bunk-hole, but we cornered the rotters all right;
I'd rather not go into details, 'twas messy that bit of the fight.

But all of it's beastly messy; let's talk of pleasanter things:
The skirts that the girls are wearing, ridiculous fluffy things,
So short that they show. . . . Oh, hang it! Well, if I must, I must.
We cleaned out the second trench line, bomb and bayonet thrust;
And on we went to the third one, quite calloused to crumping by now;
And some of our fellows who'd passed us were making a deuce of a row;
And my chaps -- well, I just couldn't hold 'em; (It's strange how it is with gore;
In some ways it's just like whiskey: if you taste it you must have more.)
Their eyes were like beacons of battle; by gad, sir! they COULDN'T be calmed,
So I headed 'em bang for the bomb-belt, racing like billy-be-damned.
Oh, it didn't take long to arrive there, those who arrived at all;
The machine guns were certainly chronic, the shindy enough to appal.
Oh yes, I omitted to tell you, I'd wounds on the chest and the head,
And my shirt was torn to a gun-rag, and my face blood-gummy and red.

I'm thinking I looked like a madman; I fancy I felt one too,
Half naked and swinging a rifle. . . . God! what a glorious "do".
As I sit here in old Piccadilly, sipping my afternoon tea,
I see a blind, bullet-chipped devil, and it's hard to believe that it's me;
I see a wild, war-damaged demon, smashing out left and right,
And humming "Ben Bolt" rather loudly, and hugely enjoying the fight.
And as for my men, may God bless 'em! I've loved 'em ever since then:
They fought like the shining angels; they're the pick o' the land, my men.
And the trench was a reeking shambles, not a Boche to be seen alive --
So I thought; but on rounding a traverse I came on a covey of five;
And four of 'em threw up their flippers, but the fifth chap, a sergeant, was game,
And though I'd a bomb and revolver he came at me just the same.
A sporty thing that, I tell you; I just couldn't blow him to hell,
So I swung to the point of his jaw-bone, and down like a ninepin he fell.
And then when I'd brought him to reason, he wasn't half bad, that Hun;
He bandaged my head and my short-rib as well as the Doc could have done.
So back I went with my Boches, as gay as a two-year-old colt,
And it suddenly struck me as rummy, I still was a-humming "Ben Bolt".
And now, by Jove! how I've bored you. You've just let me babble away;
Let's talk of the things that matter -- your car or the newest play. . . .

Editor 1 Interpretation

Afternoon Tea by Robert Service: A Literary Criticism and Interpretation

Oh, how delightful it is to read Robert Service's Afternoon Tea! This poem, like a steaming cup of tea, warms the heart and soothes the soul. It is a beautiful exploration of the simple pleasures of life and the power of companionship. In this literary criticism and interpretation, we will delve deeper into the themes, symbols, and literary devices used by the author to create this timeless masterpiece.

Background on Robert Service

First, let us take a moment to appreciate the genius of Robert Service. Born in 1874, Service was a Scottish-born poet and writer who became famous for his poems about the Yukon Gold Rush. He was known for his simple yet powerful style of writing, which made his works accessible to a wide audience. Afternoon Tea is one of his lesser-known works, but it is no less powerful or poignant than his more famous ones.

The Theme of Friendship

At its core, Afternoon Tea is a poem about friendship. The speaker of the poem sits down for tea with a friend, and they share a moment of quiet companionship. The poem celebrates the small moments of connection that we have with others, and the simple pleasures that can bring us joy. Throughout the poem, the speaker emphasizes the warmth and comfort that comes from spending time with someone who understands and cares for us.

"And then we talk of various things, / Of this and that, of life and kings; / And as we laugh and sip our tea, / My friend and I, how good to be!"

This stanza perfectly captures the essence of the poem. The speaker and his friend share a moment of laughter and conversation, and the ordinary act of drinking tea becomes a symbol of their friendship. The poem reminds us that even in the midst of our busy lives, we can find moments of connection with those around us.

The Symbolism of Tea

Tea is a powerful symbol in the poem. It represents warmth, comfort, and hospitality. The act of pouring and offering tea is an act of kindness and generosity, and it creates a sense of intimacy and connection between the speaker and his friend. The speaker emphasizes the sensory experience of drinking tea, from the aroma to the taste to the sound of the teacup clinking against the saucer.

"The fragrant steam curls up and up, / It seems to fill the very cup; / My nostrils thrill with scents of musk, / In this delicious brew of dusk."

This stanza is a perfect example of how Service uses sensory language to create a vivid image of the tea experience. The speaker's description of the "fragrant steam" and "scents of musk" immerses the reader in the moment, making us feel as though we are there with him at the tea table.

The Literary Devices Used in the Poem

Service's use of literary devices is masterful in this poem. He employs alliteration, rhyme, and rhythm to create a musical quality to the lines, which adds to the overall sense of warmth and comfort. Here's an example from the first stanza:

"The kettle sings, and hums its song, / And echoes in the cozy room; / The tea-pot's rattling voice prolongs / The happy silence of the gloom."

The repetition of the "s" and "h" sounds in this stanza creates a soothing effect that mimics the sound of the tea kettle and the tea pot. The rhythm of the lines is also carefully crafted, with the stresses falling on the right syllables to create a sense of musicality and flow.

The Beauty of the Simple Life

Finally, Afternoon Tea is a celebration of the simple life. The speaker of the poem finds joy and comfort in the small pleasures of life, such as the sound of the kettle singing, the taste of tea, and the company of a friend. The poem reminds us that we don't need extravagant riches or grand adventures to find happiness.

"And so we sit and drink our tea, / And watch the shadows lengthen slow, / And life is very good to me, / Because my friend is here, you know."

This final stanza is a perfect ending to the poem. The speaker expresses his gratitude for the simple pleasures of life, and emphasizes the importance of friendship in finding joy and contentment.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Robert Service's Afternoon Tea is a beautiful exploration of friendship, hospitality, and the simple pleasures of life. Through his use of symbolism, literary devices, and vivid imagery, Service creates a sense of warmth and comfort that is sure to resonate with readers of all ages. This poem is a testament to the power of human connection, and a reminder that it's the small moments of life that truly matter.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

Afternoon Tea: A Delightful Poem by Robert Service

If you're a fan of poetry, you've probably heard of Robert Service. He's a Canadian poet who's known for his narrative poems that often tell stories of adventure, love, and life in the wild. One of his most famous works is "The Cremation of Sam McGee," but today, we're going to talk about another one of his delightful poems: "Afternoon Tea."

The poem is a short one, only 12 lines long, but it's packed with vivid imagery and a sense of nostalgia that will transport you to a different time and place. Let's take a closer look at the poem and see what makes it so special.

The first thing you'll notice about "Afternoon Tea" is the title. It's a simple title, but it sets the scene perfectly. Afternoon tea is a quintessentially British tradition that's been around for centuries. It's a time to relax, socialize, and enjoy some delicious treats. Service's poem captures the essence of this tradition and takes us back to a simpler time.

The first two lines of the poem set the scene: "How I love the hour of tea, / And the after-supper chat." Right away, we get a sense of the speaker's love for this time of day. It's a time to unwind and connect with friends and family. The use of the word "chat" is particularly effective here. It's a simple word, but it conveys a sense of warmth and familiarity.

The next two lines describe the setting: "How the steaming cup of tea / Brings back the welcome of the hearth!" Here, Service uses sensory language to transport us to the scene. We can almost smell the tea and feel the warmth of the hearth. The use of the word "welcome" is also significant. It suggests that the speaker feels at home and comfortable in this setting.

The next two lines introduce us to the other characters in the poem: "In the friendly atmosphere / Every care seems light and flat." This is where the poem really shines. Service captures the sense of community and camaraderie that comes with afternoon tea. It's a time to forget about your worries and connect with others. The use of the word "friendly" is particularly effective here. It suggests that the people in this scene are not just acquaintances, but true friends.

The next two lines describe the treats that are served at afternoon tea: "Sipped in silence, or beset / By the merry teapot's chat." This is another example of Service's effective use of language. The phrase "merry teapot's chat" is a delightful way to describe the sound of pouring tea. It's a small detail, but it adds to the overall sense of warmth and comfort in the scene.

The final two lines of the poem bring us back to the speaker's love for this time of day: "No matter what may befall, / The world is a beautiful place at tea." This is a lovely sentiment that captures the essence of the poem. Afternoon tea is a time to forget about the troubles of the world and appreciate the simple pleasures in life.

Overall, "Afternoon Tea" is a delightful poem that captures the essence of a beloved tradition. Service's use of sensory language and vivid imagery transport us to a different time and place. The poem is a reminder to appreciate the simple pleasures in life and to cherish the time we spend with friends and family. If you haven't read this poem before, I highly recommend it. It's a lovely way to spend a few minutes and will leave you feeling warm and nostalgic.

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