In Utrumque Paratus - A Logical Discussion Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABC DEDEFFFFGBGB FHFHFIFIJIJJIKLKML NONNOPQPQ RFRFSISITQTQPHCHUVUV WXWX YBYBZA2ZA2 B2C2B2D2A2E2A2A2E2FX FXFF2FF2 G2H2G2G2I2E2J2E2E2J2 QK2QQK2CCCL2M2M2M2L2 FFFFF| Then hey for boot and horse lad | A |
| And round the world away | B |
| Young blood will have its course lad | A |
| And every dog his day | B |
| C Kingsley | C |
| - | |
| - | |
| There's a formula which the west country clowns | D |
| Once used ere their blows fell thick | E |
| At the fairs on the Devon and Cornwall downs | D |
| In their bouts with the single stick | E |
| You may read a moral not far amiss | F |
| If you care to moralise | F |
| In the crossing guard where the ash plants kiss | F |
| To the words God spare our eyes | F |
| No game was ever yet worth a rap | G |
| For a rational man to play | B |
| Into which no accident no mishap | G |
| Could possibly find its way | B |
| - | |
| If you hold the willow a shooter from Wills | F |
| May transform you into a hopper | H |
| And the football meadow is rife with spills | F |
| If you feel disposed for a cropper | H |
| In a rattling gallop with hound and horse | F |
| You may chance to reverse the medal | I |
| On the sward with the saddle your loins across | F |
| And your hunter's loins on the saddle | I |
| In the stubbles you'll find it hard to frame | J |
| A remonstrance firm yet civil | I |
| When oft as our mutual friend takes aim | J |
| Long odds may be laid on the rising game | J |
| And against your gaiters level | I |
| There's danger even where fish are caught | K |
| To those who a wetting fear | L |
| For what's worth having must aye be bought | K |
| And sport's like life and life's like sport | M |
| It ain't all skittles and beer | L |
| - | |
| The honey bag lies close to the sting | N |
| The rose is fenced by the thorn | O |
| Shall we leave to others their gathering | N |
| And turn from clustering fruits that cling | N |
| To the garden wall in scorn | O |
| Albeit those purple grapes hang high | P |
| Like the fox in the ancient tale | Q |
| Let us pause and try ere we pass them by | P |
| Though we like the fox may fail | Q |
| - | |
| All hurry is worse than useless think | R |
| On the adage 'Tis pace that kills | F |
| Shun bad tobacco avoid strong drink | R |
| Abstain from Holloway's pills | F |
| Wear woollen socks they're the best you'll find | S |
| Beware how you leave off flannel | I |
| And whatever you do don't change your mind | S |
| When once you have picked your panel | I |
| With a bank of cloud in the south south east | T |
| Stand ready to shorten sail | Q |
| Fight shy of a corporation feast | T |
| Don't trust to a martingale | Q |
| Keep your powder dry and shut one eye | P |
| Not both when you touch your trigger | H |
| Don't stop with your head too frequently | C |
| This advice ain't meant for a nigger | H |
| Look before you leap if you like but if | U |
| You mean leaping don't look long | V |
| Or the weakest place will soon grow stiff | U |
| And the strongest doubly strong | V |
| As far as you can to every man | W |
| Let your aid be freely given | X |
| And hit out straight 'tis your shortest plan | W |
| When against the ropes you're driven | X |
| - | |
| Mere pluck though not in the least sublime | Y |
| Is wiser than blank dismay | B |
| Since No sparrow can fall before its time | Y |
| And we're valued higher than they | B |
| So hope for the best and leave the rest | Z |
| In charge of a stronger hand | A2 |
| Like the honest boors in the far off west | Z |
| With the formula terse and grand | A2 |
| - | |
| They were men for the most part rough and rude | B2 |
| Dull and illiterate | C2 |
| But they nursed no quarrel they cherished no feud | B2 |
| They were strangers to spite and hate | D2 |
| In a kindly spirit they took their stand | A2 |
| That brothers and sons might learn | E2 |
| How a man should uphold the sports of his land | A2 |
| And strike his best with a strong right hand | A2 |
| And take his strokes in return | E2 |
| 'Twas a barbarous practice the Quaker cries | F |
| 'Tis a thing of the past thank heaven | X |
| Keep your thanks till the combative instinct dies | F |
| With the taint of the olden leaven | X |
| Yes the times are changed for better or worse | F |
| The prayer that no harm befall | F2 |
| Has given its place to a drunken curse | F |
| And the manly game to a brawl | F2 |
| - | |
| Our burdens are heavy our natures weak | G2 |
| Some pastime devoid of harm | H2 |
| May we look for Puritan elder speak | G2 |
| Yea friend peradventure thou mayest seek | G2 |
| Recreation singing a psalm | I2 |
| If I did your visage so grim and stern | E2 |
| Would relax in a ghastly smile | J2 |
| For of music I never one note could learn | E2 |
| And my feeble minstrelsy would turn | E2 |
| Your chant to discord vile | J2 |
| - | |
| Tho' the Philistine's mail could not avail | Q |
| Nor the spear like a weaver's beam | K2 |
| There are episodes yet in the Psalmist's tale | Q |
| To obliterate which his poems fail | Q |
| Which his exploits fail to redeem | K2 |
| Can the Hittite's wrongs forgotten be | C |
| Does he warble Non nobis Domine | C |
| With his monarch in blissful concert free | C |
| From all malice to flesh inherent | L2 |
| Zeruiah's offspring who served so well | M2 |
| Yet between the horns of the altar fell | M2 |
| Does his voice the Quid gloriaris swell | M2 |
| Or the Quare fremuerunt | L2 |
| It may well be thus where David sings | F |
| And Uriah joins in the chorus | F |
| But while earth to earthy matter clings | F |
| Neither you nor the bravest of Judah's kings | F |
| As a pattern can stand before us | F |
Adam Lindsay Gordon
(1)
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About In Utrumque Paratus - A Logical Discussion
In Utrumque Paratus - A Logical Discussion 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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