In Utrumque Paratus Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABAC DEDEFGF HBHBIJIJKLMLNLNNLOPO Q RSRRSTUTU V VIWLWLXUXUTJCJYZYZA2 B2A2B2 C2B BD2E2D2E2 F2G2F2H2E2I2E2E2I2GI 2GI2J2K2J2K2 L2M2 L2 I2N2I2I2N2 UO2UUO2C CP2Q2Q2Q2P2R2S2R2R2S 2| '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 ' 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 moralize | G |
| In the crossing guard where the ash plants kiss | F |
| To the words 'God spare our eyes ' | - |
| - | |
| No game was ever yet worth a rap | H |
| For a rational man to play | B |
| Into which no accident no mishap | H |
| Could possibly find its way | B |
| If you hold the willow a shooter from Wills | I |
| May transform you into a hopper | J |
| And the football meadow is rife with spills | I |
| If you feel disposed for a cropper | J |
| In a rattling gallop with hound and horse | K |
| You may chance to reverse the medal | L |
| On the sward with the saddle your loins across | M |
| And your hunter's loins on the saddle | L |
| In the stubbles you'll find it hard to frame | N |
| A remonstrance firm yet civil | L |
| When oft as 'our mutual friend' takes aim | N |
| Long odds may be laid on the rising game | N |
| And against your gaiters level | L |
| There's danger even where fish are caught | O |
| To those who a wetting fear | P |
| For what's worth having must ay be bought | O |
| And sport's like life and life's like sport | Q |
| 'It ain't all skittles and beer ' | - |
| - | |
| The honey bag lies close to the sting | R |
| The rose is fenced by the thorn | S |
| Shall we leave to others their gathering | R |
| And turn from clustering fruits that cling | R |
| To the garden wall in scorn | S |
| Albeit those purple grapes hang high | T |
| Like the fox in the ancient tale | U |
| Let us pause and try ere we pass them by | T |
| Though we like the fox may fail | U |
| - | |
| All hurry is worse than useless think | V |
| On the adage ' 'Tis pace that kills ' | - |
| Shun bad tobacco avoid strong drink | V |
| Abstain from Holloway's pills | I |
| Wear woollen socks they're the best you'll find | W |
| Beware how you leave off flannel | L |
| And whatever you do don't change your mind | W |
| When once you have picked your panel | L |
| With a bank of cloud in the south south east | X |
| Stand ready to shorten sail | U |
| Fight shy of a corporation feast | X |
| Don't trust to a martingale | U |
| Keep your powder dry and shut one eye | T |
| Not both when you touch your trigger | J |
| Don't stop with your head too frequently | C |
| This advice ain't meant for a nigger | J |
| Look before you leap if you like but if | Y |
| You mean leaping don't look long | Z |
| Or the weakest place will soon grow stiff | Y |
| And the strongest doubly strong | Z |
| As far as you can to every man | A2 |
| Let your aid be freely given | B2 |
| And hit out straight 'tis your shortest plan | A2 |
| When against the ropes you're driven | B2 |
| - | |
| Mere pluck though not in the least sublime | C2 |
| Is wiser than blank dismay | B |
| Since 'No sparrow can fall before its time ' | - |
| And we're valued higher than they | B |
| So hope for the best and leave the rest | D2 |
| In charge of a stronger hand | E2 |
| Like the honest boors in the far off west | D2 |
| With the formula terse and grand | E2 |
| - | |
| They were men for the most part rough and rude | F2 |
| Dull and illiterate | G2 |
| But they nursed no quarrel they cherished no feud | F2 |
| They were strangers to spite and hate | H2 |
| In a kindly spirit they took their stand | E2 |
| That brothers and sons might learn | I2 |
| How a man should uphold the sports of his land | E2 |
| And strike his best with a strong right hand | E2 |
| And take his strokes in return | I2 |
| ' 'Twas a barbarous practice ' the Quaker cries | G |
| ' 'Tis a thing of the past thank heaven' | I2 |
| Keep your thanks till the combative instinct dies | G |
| With the taint of the olden leaven | I2 |
| Yes the times are changed for better or worse | J2 |
| The prayer that no harm befall | K2 |
| Has given its place to a drunken curse | J2 |
| And the manly game to a brawl | K2 |
| - | |
| Our burdens are heavy our natures weak | L2 |
| Some pastime devoid of harm | M2 |
| May we look for 'Puritan elder speak ' | - |
| 'Yea friend peradventure thou mayest seek | L2 |
| Recreation singing a psalm ' | - |
| If I did your visage so grim and stern | I2 |
| Would relax in a ghastly smile | N2 |
| For of music I never one note could learn | I2 |
| And my feeble minstrelsy would turn | I2 |
| Your chant to discord vile | N2 |
| - | |
| Tho' the Philistine's mail could naught avail | U |
| Nor the spear like a weaver's beam | O2 |
| There are episodes yet in the Psalmist's tale | U |
| To obliterate which his poems fail | U |
| Which his exploits fail to redeem | O2 |
| Can the Hittite's wrongs forgotten be | C |
| Does HE warble 'Non nobis Domine ' | - |
| With his monarch in blissful concert free | C |
| From all malice to flesh inherent | P2 |
| Zeruiah's offspring who served so well | Q2 |
| Yet between the horns of the altar fell | Q2 |
| Does HIS voice the 'Quid gloriaris' swell | Q2 |
| Or the 'Quare fremuerunt' | P2 |
| It may well be thus where DAVID sings | R2 |
| And Uriah joins in the chorus | S2 |
| But while earth to earthy matter clings | R2 |
| Neither you nor the bravest of Judah's kings | R2 |
| As a pattern can stand before us | S2 |
Adam Lindsay Gordon
(1)
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