Poem No. 2 - Night Mail (HSSC 1)

HSSC -1, FBISE, English Notes

Poem No. 2 - Night Mail

This is the night mail crossing the Border, 

 Bringing the cheque and the postal order, 

 Letters for the rich, letters for the poor, 

 The shop at the corner, the girl next door. 

 Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb: 

 The gradient's against her, but she's on time. 

 Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder 

 Shovelling white steam over her shoulder, 

 Snorting noisily as she passes 

 Silent miles of wind-bent grasses. 

 Birds turn their heads as she approaches, 

 Stare from bushes at her blank-faced coaches. 

 Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course; 

 They slumber on with paws across. 

 In the farm she passes no one wakes, 

 But a jug in a bedroom gently shakes.

The poet describes the beautiful movement of the train and its work. He tells in the poem that Night Mail crosses the border between Scotland and England. It brings cheques and letters. for different classes of people. It brings letters and messages to the rich and poor, shopkeepers and girls in their homes.This is a simple poem highlighting the different characteristics of a night mail. It brings various types of postal material for each kind of people. It also passes through various fields, meadows, and ups and downs to reach its destiny. Night mail actually resembles life that passes through different courses to reach its destiny. "The Night Mail" brings different kinds of postal material. It passes through different ups and downs.   The Night continues moving forward whatever the terrain or type of land may be. It stops at Beattock after climbing to it at a normal height. It climbs up the hilly land even if it is high, and reaches the station on time. It goes past cotton-like grass and open wasteland with stone hills. It throws off white steam above its body and makes noise through its pipes. It passes over many miles by the grasses bent over under the pressure of the wind. As the Night Mail comes near the birds just turn their heads away and only look at the fields, not caring about her movements.

Even the people in their cottages go on sleeping as the Night Mail passes by the field, Jugs or utensils and the cottages shake slowly with her noise, and nothing more happens.