Ex Fumo Dare Lucem - 'twixt The Cup And The Lip Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBCDEDE FGFGHIHI GJGJKLKL MNONOFMF PQRQFCFC GSGSTUTU TTTTVTVT T GWGWXYXY ZA2ZA2ZTZT FTFTGTGT BB2BB2C2D2C2D2 FTFTTE2TE2 F2G2F2G2GH2GH2 GCGCCTCT C2 GIGIFI2FI2 GCGCCJ2CJ2 K2CK2CZCL2C TM2TM2ZN2ZN2 TC2TC2TO2TY TCTCFP2FP2 C2CC2CC2L2C2L2 TTTTGCGC CC2CC2ZYZO2 CN2CN2C2CC2C TTTTTQ2TR2 GTGTCTCT C2GC2GGS2GT2 CCCCTU2TU2| Prologue | A |
| - | |
| Calm and clear the bright day is declining | B |
| The crystal expanse of the bay | C |
| Like a shield of pure metal lies shining | B |
| 'Twixt headlands of purple and grey | C |
| While the little waves leap in the sunset | D |
| And strike with a miniature shock | E |
| In sportive and infantine onset | D |
| The base of the iron stone rock | E |
| - | |
| Calm and clear the sea breezes are laden | F |
| With a fragrance a freshness a power | G |
| With a song like the song of a maiden | F |
| With a scent like the scent of a flower | G |
| And a whisper half weird half prophetic | H |
| Comes home with the sigh of the surf | I |
| But I pause for your fancies poetic | H |
| Never rise from the level of Turf | I |
| - | |
| Fellow bungler of mine fellow sinner | G |
| In public performances past | J |
| In trials whence touts take their winner | G |
| In rumours that circulate fast | J |
| In strains from Prunella or Priam | K |
| Staying stayers or goers that go | L |
| You're much better posted than I am | K |
| 'Tis little I care less I know | L |
| - | |
| Alas neither poet nor prophet | M |
| Am I though a jingler of rhymes | N |
| 'Tis a hobby of mine and I'm off it | O |
| At times and I'm on it at times | N |
| And whether I'm off it or on it | O |
| Your readers my counsels will shun | F |
| Since I scarce know Van Tromp from Blue Bonnet | M |
| Though I might know Cigar from the Nun | F |
| - | |
| With visions you ought to be sated | P |
| And sicken'd by this time I swear | Q |
| That mine are all myths self created | R |
| Air visions that vanish in air | Q |
| If I had some loose coins I might chuck one | F |
| To settle this question and say | C |
| Here goes this is tails for the black one | F |
| And heads for my fav'rite the bay | C |
| - | |
| And must I rob Paul to pay Peter | G |
| Or Peter defraud to pay Paul | S |
| My rhymes are they stale if my metre | G |
| Is varied one chime rings through all | S |
| One chime though I sing more or sing less | T |
| I have but one string to my lute | U |
| And it might have been better if stringless | T |
| And songless the same had been mute | U |
| - | |
| Yet not as a seer of visions | T |
| Nor yet as a dreamer of dreams | T |
| I send you these partial decisions | T |
| On hackney'd impoverish'd themes | T |
| But with song out of tune sung to pass time | V |
| Flung heedless to friends or to foes | T |
| Where the false notes that ring for the last time | V |
| May blend with some real ones who knows | T |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| The Race | T |
| - | |
| On the hill they are crowding together | G |
| In the stand they are crushing for room | W |
| Like midge flies they swarm on the heather | G |
| They gather like bees on the broom | W |
| They flutter like moths round a candle | X |
| Stale similes granted what then | Y |
| I've got a stale subject to handle | X |
| A very stale stump of a pen | Y |
| - | |
| Hark the shuffle of feet that are many | Z |
| Of voices the many tongued clang | A2 |
| Has he had a bad night Has he any | Z |
| Friends left How I hate your turf slang | A2 |
| 'Tis stale to begin with not witty | Z |
| But dull and inclined to be coarse | T |
| But bad men can't use more's the pity | Z |
| Good words when they slate a good horse | T |
| - | |
| Heu heu quantus equis that's Latin | F |
| For bellows to mend with the weeds | T |
| They're off lights and shades silk and satin | F |
| A rainbow of riders and steeds | T |
| And one shows in front and another | G |
| Goes up and is seen in his place | T |
| Sic transit more Latin Oh bother | G |
| Let's get to the end of the race | T |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| See they come round the last turn careering | B |
| Already Tait's colours are struck | B2 |
| And the green in the vanguard is steering | B |
| And the red's in the rear of the ruck | B2 |
| Are the stripes in the shade doom'd to lie long | C2 |
| Do the blue stars on white skies wax dim | D2 |
| Is it Tamworth or Smuggler 'Tis Bylong | C2 |
| That wins either Bylong or Tim | D2 |
| - | |
| As the shell through the breach that is riven | F |
| And sapp'd by the springing of mines | T |
| As the bolt from the thunder cloud driven | F |
| That levels the larches and pines | T |
| Through yon mass parti colour'd that dashes | T |
| Goal turn'd clad in many hued garb | E2 |
| From rear to van surges and flashes | T |
| The yellow and black of The Barb | E2 |
| - | |
| Past The Fly falling back on the right and | F2 |
| The Gull giving way on the left | G2 |
| Past Tamworth who feels the whip smite and | F2 |
| Whose sides by the rowels are cleft | G2 |
| Where Tim and the chestnut together | G |
| Still bear of the battle the brunt | H2 |
| As if eight stone twelve were a feather | G |
| He comes with a rush to the front | H2 |
| - | |
| Tim Whiffler may yet prove a Tartar | G |
| And Bylong's the horse that can stay | C |
| But Kean is in trouble and Carter | G |
| Is hard on the satin skinn'd bay | C |
| And The Barb comes away unextended | C |
| Hard held like a second Eclipse | T |
| While behind the hoof thunder is blended | C |
| With the whistling and crackling of whips | T |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| Epilogue | C2 |
| - | |
| He wins yes he wins upon paper | G |
| He hasn't yet won upon turf | I |
| And these rhymes are but moonshine and vapour | G |
| Air bubbles and spume from the surf | I |
| So be it at least they are given | F |
| Free gratis for just what they're worth | I2 |
| And whatever there may be in heaven | F |
| There's little worth much upon earth | I2 |
| - | |
| When with satellites round them the centre | G |
| Of all eyes hard press'd by the crowd | C |
| The pair horse and rider re enter | G |
| The gate 'mid a shout long and loud | C |
| You may feel as you might feel just landed | C |
| Full length on the grass from the clip | J2 |
| Of a vicious cross counter right handed | C |
| Or upper cut whizzing from hip | J2 |
| - | |
| And that's not so bad if you're pick'd up | K2 |
| Discreetly and carefully nursed | C |
| Loose teeth by the sponge are soon lick'd up | K2 |
| And next time you MAY get home first | C |
| Still I'm not sure you'd like it exactly | Z |
| Such tastes as a rule are acquired | C |
| And you'll find in a nutshell this fact lie | L2 |
| Bruised optics are not much admired | C |
| - | |
| Do I bore you with vulgar allusions | T |
| Forgive me I speak as I feel | M2 |
| I've pondered and made my conclusions | T |
| As the mill grinds the corn to the meal | M2 |
| So man striving boldly but blindly | Z |
| Ground piecemeal in Destiny's mill | N2 |
| At his best taking punishment kindly | Z |
| Is only a chopping block still | N2 |
| - | |
| Are we wise Our abstruse calculations | T |
| Are based on experience long | C2 |
| Are we sanguine Our high expectations | T |
| Are founded on hope that is strong | C2 |
| Thus we build an air castle that crumbles | T |
| And drifts till no traces remain | O2 |
| And the fool builds again while he grumbles | T |
| And the wise one laughs building again | Y |
| - | |
| How came they to pass these rash blunders | T |
| These false steps so hard to defend | C |
| Our friend puts the question and wonders | T |
| We laugh and reply Ah my friend | C |
| Could you trace the first stride falsely taken | F |
| The distance misjudged where or how | P2 |
| When you pick'd yourself up stunn'd and shaken | F |
| At the fence 'twixt the turf and the plough | P2 |
| - | |
| In the jar of the panel rebounding | C2 |
| In the crash of the splintering wood | C |
| In the ears to the earth shock resounding | C2 |
| In the eyes flashing fire and blood | C |
| In the quarters above you revolving | C2 |
| In the sods underneath heaving high | L2 |
| There was little to aid you in solving | C2 |
| Such questions the how or the why | L2 |
| - | |
| And destiny steadfast in trifles | T |
| Is steadfast for better or worse | T |
| In great things it crushes and stifles | T |
| And swallows the hopes that we nurse | T |
| Men wiser than we are may wonder | G |
| When the future they cling to so fast | C |
| To the roll of that destiny's thunder | G |
| Goes down with the wrecks of the past | C |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| The past the dead past that has swallow'd | C |
| All the honey of life and the milk | C2 |
| Brighter dreams than mere pastimes we've follow'd | C |
| Better things than our scarlet or silk | C2 |
| Aye and worse things that past is it really | Z |
| Dead to us who again and again | Y |
| Feel sharply hear plainly see clearly | Z |
| Past days with their joy and their pain | O2 |
| - | |
| Like corpses embalm'd and unburied | C |
| They lie and in spite of our will | N2 |
| Our souls on the wings of thought carried | C |
| Revisit their sepulchres still | N2 |
| Down the channels of mystery gliding | C2 |
| They conjure strange tales rarely read | C |
| Of the priests of dead Pharaohs presiding | C2 |
| At mystical feasts of the dead | C |
| - | |
| Weird pictures arise quaint devices | T |
| Rude emblems baked funeral meats | T |
| Strong incense rare wines and rich spices | T |
| The ashes the shrouds and the sheets | T |
| Does our thraldom fall short of completeness | T |
| For the magic of a charnel house charm | Q2 |
| And the flavour of a poisonous sweetness | T |
| And the odour of a poisonous balm | R2 |
| - | |
| And the links of the past but no matter | G |
| For I'm getting beyond you I guess | T |
| And you'll call me as mad as a hatter | G |
| If my thoughts I too freely express | T |
| I subjoin a quotation pray learn it | C |
| And with the aid of your lexicon tell us | T |
| The meaning thereof Res discernit | C |
| Sapiens quas confundit asellus | T |
| - | |
| Already green hillocks are swelling | C2 |
| And combing white locks on the bar | G |
| Where a dull droning murmur is telling | C2 |
| Of winds that have gather'd afar | G |
| Thus we know not the day nor the morrow | G |
| Nor yet what the night may bring forth | S2 |
| Nor the storm nor the sleep nor the sorrow | G |
| Nor the strife nor the rest nor the wrath | T2 |
| - | |
| Yet the skies are still tranquil and starlit | C |
| The sun 'twixt the wave and the west | C |
| Dies in purple and crimson and scarlet | C |
| And gold let us hope for the best | C |
| Since again from the earth his effulgence | T |
| The darkness and damp dews shall wipe | U2 |
| Kind reader extend your indulgence | T |
| To this the last lay of The Pipe | U2 |
Adam Lindsay Gordon
(1)
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About Ex Fumo Dare Lucem - 'twixt The Cup And The Lip
Ex Fumo Dare Lucem - 'twixt The Cup And The Lip is a poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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