Hippodromania; Or, Whiffs From The Pipe (in Five Parts): Part I: Visions In The Smoke Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Rest and be thankful On the verge	A
Of the tall cliff rugged and grey	B
But whose granite base the breakers surge	A
And shiver their frothy spray	B
Outstretched I gaze on the eddying wreath	C
That gathers and flits away	B
With the surf beneath and between my teeth	C
The stem of the ancient clay	B
	-
With the anodyne cloud on my listless eyes	D
With its spell on my dreamy brain	E
As I watch the circling vapours rise	D
From the brown bowl up to the sullen skies	D
My vision becomes more plain	E
Till a dim kaleidoscope succeeds	F
Through the smoke rack drifting and veering	G
Like ghostly riders on phantom steeds	F
To a shadowy goal careering	G
	-
In their own generation the wise may sneer	H
They hold our sports in derision	I
Perchance to sophist or sage or seer	J
Were allotted a graver vision	I
Yet if man of all the Creator plann'd	K
His noblest work is reckoned	L
Of the works of His hand by sea or by land	K
The horse may at least rank second	L
	-
Did they quail those steeds of the squadrons light	M
Did they flinch from the battle's roar	N
When they burst on the guns of the Muscovite	M
By the echoing Black Sea shore	N
On on to the cannon's mouth they stride	O
With never a swerve nor a shy	P
Oh the minutes of yonder maddening ride	O
Long years of pleasure outvie	Q
	-
No slave but a comrade staunch in this	R
Is the horse for he takes his share	S
Not in peril alone but in feverish bliss	R
And in longing to do and dare	S
Where bullets whistle and round shot whiz	T
Hoofs trample and blades flash bare	S
God send me an ending as fair as his	T
Who died in his stirrups there	S
	-
The wind has slumbered throughout the day	B
Now a fitful gust springs over the bay	B
My wandering thoughts no longer stray	B
I'll fix my overcoat buttons	U
Secure my old hat as best I may	B
And a shocking bad one it is by the way	B
Blow a denser cloud from my stunted clay	B
And then friend bell as the Frenchmen say	B
We'll go back again to our muttons	B
	-
There's a lull in the tumult on yonder hill	V
And the clamour has grown less loud	W
Though the Babel of tongues is never still	V
With the presence of such a crowd	W
The bell has rung With their riders up	X
At the starting post they muster	Y
The racers stripp'd for the Melbourne Cup	X
All gloss and polish and lustre	Y
And the course is seen with its emerald sheen	Z
By the bright spring tide renew'd	A2
Like a ribbon of green stretched out between	Z
The ranks of the multitude	A2
	-
The flag is lowered They're off They come	B2
The squadron is sweeping on	C2
A sway in the crowd a murmuring hum	B2
They're here They're past They're gone	D2
They came with the rush of the southern surf	Q
On the bar of the storm girt bay	B
And like muffled drums on the sounding turf	Q
Their hoof strokes echo away	B
	-
The rose and black draws clear of the ruck	E2
And the murmur swells to a roar	N
As the brave old colours that never were struck	E2
Are seen with the lead once more	N
Though the feathery ferns and grasses wave	Q
O'er the sod where Lantern sleeps	B
Though the turf is green on Fisherman's grave	Q
The stable its prestige keeps	B
	-
Six lengths in front she scours along	F2
She's bringing the field to trouble	G2
She's tailing them off she's running strong	F2
She shakes her head and pulls double	G2
Now Minstrel falters and Exile flags	B
The Barb finds the pace too hot	H2
And Toryboy loiters and Playboy lags	B
And the bolt of Ben Bolt is shot	H2
	-
That she never may be caught this day	B
Is the worst that the public wish her	Y
She won't be caught she comes right away	B
Hurrah for Seagull and Fisher	Y
See Strop falls back though his reins are slack	I2
Sultana begins to tire	Y
And the top weight tells on the Sydney crack	I2
And the pace on the Gippsland flyer	Y
	-
The rowels as round the turn they sweep	J2
Just graze Tim Whiffler's flanks	B
Like the hunted deer that flies through the sheep	J2
He strides through the beaten ranks	B
Daughter of Omen prove your birth	K2
The colt will take lots of choking	G
The hot breath steams at your saddle girth	K2
From his scarlet nostril smoking	G
	-
The shouts of the Ring for a space subside	O
And slackens the bookmaker's roar	N
Now Davis rally now Carter ride	O
As man never rode before	N
When Sparrowhawk's backers cease to cheer	H
When Yattendon's friends are dumb	B2
When hushed is the clamour for Volunteer	H
Alone in the race they come	B2
	-
They're neck and neck they're head and head	L2
They're stroke for stroke in the running	G
The whalebone whistles the steel is red	L2
No shirking as yet nor shunning	G
One effort Seagull the blood you boast	M2
Should struggle when nerves are strained	N2
With a rush on the post by a neck at the most	M2
The verdict for Tim is gained	N2
	-
Tim Whiffler wins Is blood alone	O2
The sine qua non for a flyer	Y
The breed of his dam is a myth unknown	O2
And we've doubts respecting his sire	Y
Yet few if any those proud names are	P2
On the pages of peerage or stud	Q2
In whose 'scutcheon lurks no sinister bar	P2
No taint of the base black blood	Q2
	-
Aye Shorthouse laugh laugh loud and long	F2
For pedigree you're a sticker	Y
You may be right I may be wrong	F2
Wiseacres both Let's liquor	Y
Our common descent we may each recall	R2
To a lady of old caught tripping	G
The fair one in fig leaves who d d us all	R2
For a bite at a golden pippin	S2
	-
When first on this rocky ledge I lay	B
There was scarce a ripple in yonder bay	B
The air was serenely still	V
Each column that sailed from my swarthy clay	B
Hung loitering long ere it passed away	B
Though the skies wore a tinge of leaden grey	B
And the atmosphere was chill	V
But the red sun sank to his evening shroud	W
Where the western billows are roll'd	T2
Behind a curtain of sable cloud	W
With a fringe of scarlet and gold	T2
There's a misty glare in the yellow moon	U2
And the drift is scudding fast	V2
There'll be storm and rattle and tempest soon	U2
When the heavens are overcast	V2
The neutral tint of the sullen sea	B
Is fleck'd with the snowy foam	W2
And the distant gale sighs drearilie	V
As the wanderer sighs for his home	W2
The white sea horses toss their manes	B
On the bar of the southern reef	Q
And the breakers moan and by Jove it rains	B
I thought I should come to grief	Q
Though it can't well damage my shabby hat	X2
Though my coat looks best when it's damp	Y2
Since the shaking I got no matter where at	X2
I've a mortal dread of the cramp	Y2
My matches are wet my pipe's put out	Z2
And the wind blows colder and stronger	Y
I'll be stiff and sore and sorry no doubt	Z2
If I lie here any longer	Y

Adam Lindsay Gordon

Hippodromania; Or, Whiffs From The Pipe (in Five Parts): Part I: Visions In The Smoke Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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