Excerpt from “Death in the Arctic” by Robert W. Service

What is that? Bells, dogs again! Is it a dream? I sob and cry. See! The door opens, fur-clad men Rush to my rescue; frail am I; Feeble and dying, dazed and glad. There is the pistol where it dropped. “Boys, it was hard — but I’m not mad. . . . Look at the clock — it stopped, it stopped. Carry me out. The heavens smile. See! There’s an arch of gold above. Now, let me rest a little while — Looking to God and Love . . .and Love . . .”.

In this poem, the speaker is freezing slowly in the Arctic. He recollects the memories of his life and tells the whole story to the readers, but sees flashes of his life before he dies. In fact, he is using anecdotes to tell his life story.