Classic Poem

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 each 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 named 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 over 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 his 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 joyous 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 silence 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 squatted on their hunkers, 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 galleries 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 his folk:
" We can't get any farther — 12, noonday — "
And signed both names; and when he'd done,
Though neither of them spoke,
They both felt 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 slipped 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 neither'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. "