By Flood And Field 2 Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCD EFEFCGCGHCHICHC JFJFKLKLCMCMNON PFP PPPPOGOGPGP QPQPRPRPSTSTUVUW PXPXPYPPYZOZO

They have saddled a hundred milk white steedsA
They have bridled a hundred black Old BalladB
'He turned in his saddle now follow who dareC
I ride for my country quoth ' LawrenceD
-
I REMEMBER the lowering wintry mornE
And the mist on the Cotswold hillsF
Where I once heard the blast of the huntsman's hornE
Not far from the seven rillsF
Jack Esdale was there and Hugh St ClairC
Bob Chapman and Andrew KerrG
And big George Griffiths on Devil May CareC
And black Tom OliverG
And one who rode on a dark brown steedH
Clean jointed sinewy spareC
With the lean game head of the Blacklock breedH
And the resolute eye that loves the leadI
And the quarters massive and squareC
A tower of strength with a promise of speedH
There was Celtic blood in the pairC
-
I remember how merry a start we gotJ
When the red fox broke from the gorseF
In a country so deep with a scent so hotJ
That the hound could outpace the horseF
I remember how few in the front rank show'dK
How endless appeared the tailL
On the brown hill side where we cross'd the roadK
And headed towards the valeL
The dark brown steed on the left was thereC
On the right was a dappled greyM
And between the pair on a chestnut mareC
The duffer who writes this layM
What business had 'this child' there to rideN
But little or none at allO
Yet I held my own for a while in 'the prideN
That goeth before a fall '-
Though rashness can hope for but one resultP
We are heedless when fate draws nigh usF
And the maxim holds good 'Quem perdere vultP
Deus dementat prius '-
-
The right hand man to the left hand saidP
As down in the vale we wentP
'Harden your heart like a millstone NedP
And set your face as flintP
Solid and tall is the rasping wallO
That stretches before us yonderG
You must have it at speed or not at allO
'Twere better to halt than to ponderG
For the stream runs wide on the take off sideP
And washes the clay bank underG
Here goes for a pull 'tis a madman's rideP
And a broken neck if you blunder '-
-
No word in reply his comrade spokeQ
Nor waver'd nor once look'd roundP
But I saw him shorten his horse's strokeQ
As we splash'd through the marshy groundP
I remember the laugh that all the whileR
On his quiet features play'dP
So he rode to his death with that careless smileR
In the van of the 'Light Brigade'P
So stricken by Russian grape the cheerS
Rang out while he toppled backT
From the shattered lungs as merry and clearS
As it did when it roused the packT
Let never a tear his memory stainU
Give his ashes never a sighV
One of many who perished Not in vainU
As a type of our chivalryW
-
I remember one thrust he gave to his hatP
And two to the flanks of the brownX
And still as a statue of old he satP
And he shot to the front hands downX
I remember the snort and the stag like boundP
Of the steed six lengths to the foreY
And the laugh of the rider while landing soundP
He turned in his saddle and glanced aroundP
I remember but little moreY
Save a bird's eye gleam of the dashing streamZ
A jarring thud on the wallO
A shock and the blank of a nightmare's dreamZ
I was down with a stunning fallO

Adam Lindsay Gordon



Rate:
(1)



Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme

Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation


Write your comment about By Flood And Field 2 poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon


 

Recent Interactions*

This poem was read 0 times,

This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members,

This poem was voted by 0 members.

(* Interactions only in the last 7 days)

New Poems

Popular Poets