The Exeter Road Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCC DDEEFF GGHHII JJKKLL MMJJNN OOJJLL PPQQRR FFSSJJ PTPUUU FFJJFF| Panels of claret and blue which shine | A |
| Under the moon like lees of wine | A |
| A coronet done in a golden scroll | B |
| And wheels which blunder and creak as they roll | B |
| Through the muddy ruts of a moorland track | C |
| They daren't look back | C |
| - | |
| They are whipping and cursing the horses Lord | D |
| What brutes men are when they think they're scored | D |
| Behind my bay gelding gallops with me | E |
| In a steaming sweat it is fine to see | E |
| That coach all claret and gold and blue | F |
| Hop about and slue | F |
| - | |
| They are scared half out of their wits poor souls | G |
| For my lord has a casket full of rolls | G |
| Of minted sovereigns and silver bars | H |
| I laugh to think how he'll show his scars | H |
| In London to morrow He whines with rage | I |
| In his varnished cage | I |
| - | |
| My lady has shoved her rings over her toes | J |
| 'Tis an ancient trick every night rider knows | J |
| But I shall relieve her of them yet | K |
| When I see she limps in the minuet | K |
| I must beg to celebrate this night | L |
| And the green moonlight | L |
| - | |
| There's nothing to hurry about the plain | M |
| Is hours long and the mud's a strain | M |
| My gelding's uncommonly strong in the loins | J |
| In half an hour I'll bag the coins | J |
| 'Tis a clear sweet night on the turn of Spring | N |
| The chase is the thing | N |
| - | |
| How the coach flashes and wobbles the moon | O |
| Dripping down so quietly on it A tune | O |
| Is beating out of the curses and screams | J |
| And the cracking all through the painted seams | J |
| Steady old horse we'll keep it in sight | L |
| 'Tis a rare fine night | L |
| - | |
| There's a clump of trees on the dip of the down | P |
| And the sky shimmers where it hangs over the town | P |
| It seems a shame to break the air | Q |
| In two with this pistol but I've my share | Q |
| Of drudgery like other men | R |
| His hat Amen | R |
| - | |
| Hold up you beast now what the devil | F |
| Confound this moor for a pockholed evil | F |
| Rotten marsh My right leg's snapped | S |
| 'Tis a mercy he's rolled but I'm nicely capped | S |
| A broken legged man and a broken legged horse | J |
| They'll get me of course | J |
| - | |
| The cursed coach will reach the town | P |
| And they'll all come out every loafer grown | T |
| A lion to handcuff a man that's down | P |
| What's that Oh the coachman's bulleted hat | U |
| I'll give it a head to fit it pat | U |
| Thank you No cravat | U |
| - | |
| - | |
| They handcuffed the body just for style | F |
| And they hung him in chains for the volatile | F |
| Wind to scour him flesh from bones | J |
| Way out on the moor you can hear the groans | J |
| His gibbet makes when it blows a gale | F |
| 'Tis a common tale | F |
Amy Lowell
(1)
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About The Exeter Road
The Exeter Road is a poem by Amy Lowell. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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