In Utrumque Paratus - A Logical Discussion Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABC DEDEFFFFGBGB FHFHFIFIJIJJIKLKML NONNOPQPQ RFRFSISITQTQPHCHUVUV WXWX YBYBZA2ZA2 B2C2B2D2A2E2A2A2E2FX FXFF2FF2 G2H2G2G2I2E2J2E2E2J2 QK2QQK2CCCL2M2M2M2L2 FFFFFThen 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 |
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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 |
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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 |
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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 |
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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 |
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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 |
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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 |
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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 |
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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
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