A Child's Battles Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABCCB DDEFGE DDHIJH KLMDDM GGNOON PPQLLQ RRSDDS LLTOOT UUVLLV WWXGGX MMLYYL LLZA2A2Z AAB2DDB2 DDDGGD YYC2A2A2F LLD2A2A2D2 LLE2PPE2 LLF2DDF2 LLG2H2H2G2 I2I2A2DDA2 LLA2LLA2 LLA2A2A2A2 J2J2A2OOA2 C2FZA2A2Z TTTDDT

Praise of the knights of oldA
May sleep their tale is toldA
And no man caresB
The praise which fires our lips isC
A knight's whose fame eclipsesC
All of theirsB
-
The ruddiest light in heavenD
Blazed as his birth star sevenD
Long years agoE
All glory crown that old yearF
Which brought our stout small soldierG
With the snowE
-
Each baby born has oneD
Star for his friends a sunD
The first of starsH
And we the more we scan itI
The more grow sure your planetJ
Child was MarsH
-
For each one flower perchanceK
Blooms as his cognizanceL
The snowdrop chillM
The violet unbeholdenD
For some for you the goldenD
DaffodilM
-
Erect a fighting flowerG
It breasts the breeziest hourG
That ever blewN
And bent or broke things brittleO
Or frail unlike a littleO
Knight like youN
-
Its flower is firm and freshP
And stout like sturdiest fleshP
Of children allQ
The strenuous blast that parchesL
Spring hurts it not till March isL
Near his fallQ
-
If winds that prate and fretR
Remark rebuke regretR
Lament or blameS
The brave plant's martial passionD
It keeps its own free fashionD
All the sameS
-
We that would fain seem wiseL
Assume grave mouths and eyesL
Whose looks reproveT
Too much delight in battleO
But your great heart our prattleO
Cannot moveT
-
We say small children shouldU
Be placid mildly goodU
And blandly meekV
Whereat the broad smile rushesL
Full on your lips and flushesL
All your cheekV
-
If all the stars that areW
Laughed out and every starW
Could here be heardX
Such peals of golden laughterG
We should not hear as afterG
Such a wordX
-
For all the storm saith stillM
Stout stands the daffodilM
For all we sayL
Howe'er he look demurelyY
Our martialist will surelyY
Have his wayL
-
We may not bind with bandsL
Those large and liberal handsL
Nor stay from fightZ
Nor hold them back from givingA2
No lean mean laws of livingA2
Bind a knightZ
-
And always here of oldA
Such gentle hearts and boldA
Our land has bredB2
How durst her eye rest else onD
The glory shed from NelsonD
Quick and deadB2
-
Shame were it if but oneD
Such once were born her sonD
That one to have borneD
And brought him ne'er a brotherG
His praise should bring his motherG
Shame and scornD
-
A child high souled as heY
Whose manhood shook the seaY
Smiles haply hereC2
His face where love lies baslcingA2
With bright shut mouth seems askingA2
What is fearF
-
The sunshine coloured fistsL
Beyond his dimpling wristsL
Were never closedD2
For saving or for sparingA2
For only deeds of daringA2
PredisposedD2
-
Unclenched the gracious handsL
Let slip their gifts like sandsL
Made rich with oreE2
That tongues of beggars ravishP
From small stout hands so lavishP
Of their storeE2
-
Sweet hardy kindly handsL
Like these were his that standsL
With heel on gorgeF2
Seen trampling down the dragonD
On sign or flask or flagonD
Sweet Saint GeorgeF2
-
Some tournament perchanceL
Of hands that couch no lanceL
Might mark this spotG2
Your lists if here some pleasantH2
Small Guenevere were presentH2
LauncelotG2
-
My brave bright flower you needI2
No foolish song nor heedI2
It more than springA2
The sighs of winter strickenD
Dead when your haunts requickenD
Here my kingA2
-
Yet O how hardly mayL
The wheels of singing stayL
That whirl alongA2
Bright paths whence echo raisesL
The phantom of your praisesL
Child my songA2
-
Beyond all other thingsL
That give my words fleet wingsL
Fleet wings and strongA2
You set their jesses ringingA2
Till hardly can I singingA2
Stint my songA2
-
But all things better friendJ2
And worse must find an endJ2
And right or wrongA2
'Tis time lest rhyme should baffleO
I doubt to put a snaffleO
On my songA2
-
And never may your earC2
Aught harsher hear or fearF
Nor wolfish nightZ
Nor dog toothed winter snarlingA2
Behind your steps my darlingA2
My delightZ
-
For all the gifts you giveT
Me dear each day you liveT
Of thanks aboveT
All thanks that could be spokenD
Take not my song in tokenD
Take my loveT

Algernon Charles Swinburne



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