Analysis of In Hospital
Edward George Dyson 1865 (Ballarat, Victoria) – 1931 (Saint Kilda, Melbourne, Victoria)
It is thirty moons since I slung me hook
From the job at the hay and corn,
Took me solemn oath, 'n' I straight forsook
All the ways of life, dinkum ways 'n' crook,
'N' the things on which it was good to look
Since the day when a bloke was born.
I was give a gun, 'n' a bay'net bright,
'N' a 'ell of a swag iv work,
N' I dipped my lid to the big pub light,
To the ole push cobbers I give “Good-night!”
Slipped a kiss to 'er, 'n' I wings me flight
For a date with the demon Turk.
Ez we pricked our heel to the skitin' drum.
Square 'n' all, I was gone a mile.
With a perky air, 'n' a 'eart ez glum
Ez a long-dead cod, I was blind 'n' dumb,
Holdin' do the tear that was bound to come
At a word or a friendly smile.
Now I've seen it all, I may come out dead,
But I 'ope never more a fool.
I have scorched, 'n' thirsted, 'n' froze, 'n'
bled,
'N' bin taught the use of the human head,
For when all is done 'n' when all is said,
War's a wonderful sort of school.
I've bin taught to get 'em 'n' never fret,
'N' to sleep without dreamin' when
We have swarmed a slope with the red rain wet;
I 'ave learned a pile, 'n' I'm learnin' yet;
But the thing I've learned that I won't forget
Is a way of not judgin' men.
We was shot down there in a dirty place—
From the mansions 'n' huts we'd come—
'N' of all the welter the 'ardest case
Was a little swine with a dimpled face,
Who a year ago was dispensin' lace
In a Carlton em-por-ee-um.
In the moochin' days of me giddy youth,
When I kidded meself a treat,
I'd have pass him one ez a gooey. 'Strewth
On the track iv Huns, he's a eight-day sleuth,
'N' at tearin' into 'em nail 'n' tooth
He's got Julius Caesar beat!
I ain't proud with him ; 'n' I'm modest, too,
When dividin' a can of swill
With a Algy boy from the wilds iv Kew.
Cos I do not know what the cow will do
When a Fritzy offers to sock me through;
'N' it's good to be livin' still.
There you are, you see! Oh! it makes you sore,
When a bloke you despised at 'ome
In them pifflin' days of the years before
Takes a odds-on chance with the God of War,
'N' he tows you out with his left lung tore,
'N' a crack in his bleedin' dome!
'Twas a lad called Hugh done ez much for me.
(He has curls 'n' he's fair 'n' slim).
Well, I mind the days in the Port when we
Puts it over Hugh coz we don't agree
With his tone 'n' style, 'n' my foot was free
When the push made a hack of him.
Now he's paid me back. I had struck a snag,
And must creep through the battle spume
All a flamin' age, with a grinnin' jag
In me thigh, for water, or jest a fag.
Like a crippled snake I was forced to drag
Shattered flesh till the crack of doom.
When they saw me he was the one who came.
'N' he give me a raffish grin
'N' a swig. I wasn't so bad that shame
Didn't get me then, for the lad was lame.
They had passed him his, but his 'art was game.
'N' he coughed ez he brought me in.
I have tackled God on me bended knees,
So He'll save him alive 'n' whole,
For the sake of one who he thinks he sees
When the Nurse's hands bring a kind of ease;
And I thank God, too, for the things like these
That have give me a sort of soul.
There are Percies, Algies, 'n' Claudes I've met
Who could take it 'n' come agen,
While the bullets flew in a screamin' jet.
What in pain, 'n' death, and in mire 'n' sweat
I 'ave learned from them that I won't forget
Is a way of not judgin' men.
Scheme | abaaab cdcccd efeeef ghigggh jijjjI kekkke lmlllm nonnno pepppx qrqqqr seassx tutttu vwvvvw jbjjjI |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Tetractys (21%) |
Metre | 1110111111 10110101 1110111101 101111111 1011111111 10110111 1110110111 10110111 1111110111 101111111 1011011111 10110101 1111011011 11111101 1010110111 1011111111 110111111 10110101 1111111111 11110101 11111111 1 1110110101 1111111111 10100111 1111111101 1110111 1110110111 111011111 1011111101 1011111 1111100101 10101111 111010011 1010110101 10101111 00101111 001111101 1110101 1111110101 1011110111 111011111 1110101 1111111101 110111 1010110111 1111110111 101101111 1111111 1111111111 10110111 011110101 1011110111 1111111111 1010111 1011111111 11111111 1110100111 1110111101 1111111111 10110111 1111111101 01110101 10111011 0111101101 1010111111 10110111 1111110111 11110101 1011101111 1011110111 1111111111 11111110 1110111101 11110111 1011111111 1010110111 0111110111 11110111 11111111 1111111 101010011 1011100111 1111111101 1011111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 3,351 |
Words | 705 |
Sentences | 32 |
Stanzas | 14 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 6, 6, 7, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6 |
Lines Amount | 85 |
Letters per line (avg) | 28 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 172 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 50 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 3:38 min read
- 117 Views
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"In Hospital" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/9561/in-hospital>.
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