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 TTTDDTPraise of the knights of old | A |
May sleep their tale is told | A |
And no man cares | B |
The praise which fires our lips is | C |
A knight's whose fame eclipses | C |
All of theirs | B |
- | |
The ruddiest light in heaven | D |
Blazed as his birth star seven | D |
Long years ago | E |
All glory crown that old year | F |
Which brought our stout small soldier | G |
With the snow | E |
- | |
Each baby born has one | D |
Star for his friends a sun | D |
The first of stars | H |
And we the more we scan it | I |
The more grow sure your planet | J |
Child was Mars | H |
- | |
For each one flower perchance | K |
Blooms as his cognizance | L |
The snowdrop chill | M |
The violet unbeholden | D |
For some for you the golden | D |
Daffodil | M |
- | |
Erect a fighting flower | G |
It breasts the breeziest hour | G |
That ever blew | N |
And bent or broke things brittle | O |
Or frail unlike a little | O |
Knight like you | N |
- | |
Its flower is firm and fresh | P |
And stout like sturdiest flesh | P |
Of children all | Q |
The strenuous blast that parches | L |
Spring hurts it not till March is | L |
Near his fall | Q |
- | |
If winds that prate and fret | R |
Remark rebuke regret | R |
Lament or blame | S |
The brave plant's martial passion | D |
It keeps its own free fashion | D |
All the same | S |
- | |
We that would fain seem wise | L |
Assume grave mouths and eyes | L |
Whose looks reprove | T |
Too much delight in battle | O |
But your great heart our prattle | O |
Cannot move | T |
- | |
We say small children should | U |
Be placid mildly good | U |
And blandly meek | V |
Whereat the broad smile rushes | L |
Full on your lips and flushes | L |
All your cheek | V |
- | |
If all the stars that are | W |
Laughed out and every star | W |
Could here be heard | X |
Such peals of golden laughter | G |
We should not hear as after | G |
Such a word | X |
- | |
For all the storm saith still | M |
Stout stands the daffodil | M |
For all we say | L |
Howe'er he look demurely | Y |
Our martialist will surely | Y |
Have his way | L |
- | |
We may not bind with bands | L |
Those large and liberal hands | L |
Nor stay from fight | Z |
Nor hold them back from giving | A2 |
No lean mean laws of living | A2 |
Bind a knight | Z |
- | |
And always here of old | A |
Such gentle hearts and bold | A |
Our land has bred | B2 |
How durst her eye rest else on | D |
The glory shed from Nelson | D |
Quick and dead | B2 |
- | |
Shame were it if but one | D |
Such once were born her son | D |
That one to have borne | D |
And brought him ne'er a brother | G |
His praise should bring his mother | G |
Shame and scorn | D |
- | |
A child high souled as he | Y |
Whose manhood shook the sea | Y |
Smiles haply here | C2 |
His face where love lies baslcing | A2 |
With bright shut mouth seems asking | A2 |
What is fear | F |
- | |
The sunshine coloured fists | L |
Beyond his dimpling wrists | L |
Were never closed | D2 |
For saving or for sparing | A2 |
For only deeds of daring | A2 |
Predisposed | D2 |
- | |
Unclenched the gracious hands | L |
Let slip their gifts like sands | L |
Made rich with ore | E2 |
That tongues of beggars ravish | P |
From small stout hands so lavish | P |
Of their store | E2 |
- | |
Sweet hardy kindly hands | L |
Like these were his that stands | L |
With heel on gorge | F2 |
Seen trampling down the dragon | D |
On sign or flask or flagon | D |
Sweet Saint George | F2 |
- | |
Some tournament perchance | L |
Of hands that couch no lance | L |
Might mark this spot | G2 |
Your lists if here some pleasant | H2 |
Small Guenevere were present | H2 |
Launcelot | G2 |
- | |
My brave bright flower you need | I2 |
No foolish song nor heed | I2 |
It more than spring | A2 |
The sighs of winter stricken | D |
Dead when your haunts requicken | D |
Here my king | A2 |
- | |
Yet O how hardly may | L |
The wheels of singing stay | L |
That whirl along | A2 |
Bright paths whence echo raises | L |
The phantom of your praises | L |
Child my song | A2 |
- | |
Beyond all other things | L |
That give my words fleet wings | L |
Fleet wings and strong | A2 |
You set their jesses ringing | A2 |
Till hardly can I singing | A2 |
Stint my song | A2 |
- | |
But all things better friend | J2 |
And worse must find an end | J2 |
And right or wrong | A2 |
'Tis time lest rhyme should baffle | O |
I doubt to put a snaffle | O |
On my song | A2 |
- | |
And never may your ear | C2 |
Aught harsher hear or fear | F |
Nor wolfish night | Z |
Nor dog toothed winter snarling | A2 |
Behind your steps my darling | A2 |
My delight | Z |
- | |
For all the gifts you give | T |
Me dear each day you live | T |
Of thanks above | T |
All thanks that could be spoken | D |
Take not my song in token | D |
Take my love | T |
Algernon Charles Swinburne
(1)
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