Corporal Dick's Promotion - A Ballad Of '82 Poem Rhyme Scheme

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The Eastern day was well nigh o'er	A
When parched with thirst and travel sore	B
Two of McPherson's flanking corps	B
Across the Desert were tramping	C
They had wandered off from the beaten track	D
And now were wearily harking back	D
Ever staring round for the signal jack	D
That marked their comrades camping	C
	-
The one was Corporal Robert Dick	E
Bearded and burly short and thick	E
Rough of speech and in temper quick	E
A hard faced old rapscallion	F
The other fresh from the barrack square	G
Was a raw recruit smooth cheeked and fair	G
Half grown half drilled with the weedy air	G
Of a draft from the home battalion	F
	-
Weary and parched and hunger torn	F
They had wandered on from early morn	F
And the young boy soldier limped forlorn	F
Now stumbling and now falling	C
Around the orange sand curves lay	H
Flecked with boulders black or grey	H
Death silent save that far away	H
A kite was shrilly calling	C
	-
A kite Was THAT a kite The yell	I
That shrilly rose and faintly fell	I
No kite's and yet the kite knows well	I
The long drawn wild halloo	I
And right athwart the evening sky	J
The yellow sand spray spurtled high	J
And shrill and shriller swelled the cry	J
Of 'Allah Allahu '	-
	-
The Corporal peered at the crimson West	K
Hid his pipe in his khaki vest	K
Growled out an oath and onward pressed	K
Still glancing over his shoulder	A
'Bedouins mate ' he curtly said	L
'We'll find some work for steel and lead	L
And maybe sleep in a sandy bed	L
Before we're one hour older	A
	-
'But just one flutter before we're done	F
Stiffen your lip and stand my son	F
We'll take this bloomin' circus on	F
Ball cartridge load Now steady '	-
With a curse and a prayer the two faced round	M
Dogged and grim they stood their ground	M
And their breech blocks snapped with a crisp clean sound	M
As the rifles sprang to the 'ready '	-
	-
Alas for the Emir Ali Khan	F
A hundred paces before his clan	F
That ebony steed of the prophet's breed	N
Is the foal of death and of danger	A
A spurt of fire a gasp of pain	F
A blueish blurr on the yellow plain	F
The chief was down and his bridle rein	F
Was in the grip of the stranger	A
	-
With the light of hope on his rugged face	O
The Corporal sprang to the dead man's place	O
One prick with the steel one thrust with the heel	I
And where was the man to outride him	P
A grip of his knees a toss of his rein	F
He was settling her down to her gallop again	F
When he stopped for he heard just one faltering word	Q
From the young recruit beside him	P
	-
One faltering word from pal to pal	I
But it found the heart of the Corporal	I
He had sprung to the sand he had lent him a hand	R
'Up mate They'll be 'ere in a minute	S
Off with you No palaver Go	T
I'll bide be'ind and run this show	T
Promotion has been cursed slow	T
And this is my chance to win it '	-
	-
Into the saddle he thrust him quick	E
Spurred the black mare with a bayonet prick	E
Watched her gallop with plunge and with kick	E
Away o'er the desert careering	C
Then he turned with a softened face	O
And loosened the strap of his cartridge case	O
While his thoughts flew back to the dear old place	O
In the sunny Hampshire clearing	C
	-
The young boy private glancing back	D
Saw the Bedouins' wild attack	D
And heard the sharp Martini crack	D
But as he gazed already	U
The fierce fanatic Arab band	R
Was closing in on every hand	R
Until one tawny swirl of sand	R
Concealed them in its eddy	U
	-
	-
	-
A squadron of British horse that night	V
Galloping hard in the shadowy light	V
Came on the scene of that last stern fight	V
And found the Corporal lying	C
Silent and grim on the trampled sand	R
His rifle grasped in his stiffened hand	R
With the warrior pride of one who died	W
'Mid a ring of the dead and the dying	C
	-
And still when twilight shadows fall	I
After the evening bugle call	I
In bivouac or in barrack hall	I
His comrades speak of the Corporal	I
His death and his devotion	F
And there are some who like to say	H
That perhaps a hidden meaning lay	H
In the words he spoke and that the day	H
When his rough bold spirit passed away	H
WAS the day that he won promotion	F

Arthur Conan Doyle

Corporal Dick's Promotion - A Ballad Of '82 Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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