The Dying Whip Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABB CCDD EEFF GGHH IIBB JJKK LLAA MMNN OOBB P QQ JP R SSTT UUVV WWXX WWWW YYZZ SSRR EEA2A2 NNB2B2 WWXC2 BBD2D2 WWQE2| It came from gettin' 'eated that was 'ow the thing begun | A |
| And 'ackin' back to kennels from a ninety minute run | A |
| 'I guess I've copped brownchitis ' says I to brother Jack | B |
| An' then afore I knowed it I was down upon my back | B |
| - | |
| At night there came a sweatin' as left me deadly weak | C |
| And my throat was sort of tickly an' it 'urt me for to speak | C |
| An' then there came an 'ackin' cough as wouldn't leave alone | D |
| An' then afore I knowed it I was only skin and bone | D |
| - | |
| I never was a 'eavy weight I scaled at seven four | E |
| An' rode at eight or maybe at just a trifle more | E |
| And now I'll stake my davy I wouldn't scale at five | F |
| And I'd 'old my own at catch weights with the skinniest jock alive | F |
| - | |
| And the doctor says the reason why I sit an' cough an wheeze | G |
| Is all along o' varmint like the cheese mites in the cheese | G |
| The smallest kind o' varmint but varmint all the same | H |
| Microscopes or somethin' I forget the varmints' name | H |
| - | |
| But I knows as I'm a goner They never said as much | I |
| But I reads the people's faces and I knows as I am such | I |
| Well there's 'Urst to mind the 'orses and the 'ounds can look to Jack | B |
| Though 'e never was a patch on me in 'andlin' of a pack | B |
| - | |
| You'll maybe think I'm boastin' but you'll find they all agree | J |
| That there's not a whip in Surrey as can 'andle 'ounds like me | J |
| For I knew 'em all from puppies and I'd tell 'em without fail | K |
| If I seed a tail a waggin' I could tell who wagged the tail | K |
| - | |
| And voices why Lor' love you it's more than I can 'elp | L |
| It just comes kind of natural to know each whine an' yelp | L |
| You might take them twenty couple where you will and let 'em run | A |
| An' I'd listen by the coverside and name 'em one by one | A |
| - | |
| I say it's kind of natural for since I was a brat | M |
| I never cared for readin' books or fancy things like that | M |
| But give me 'ounds and 'orses an' I was quite content | N |
| An' I loved to ear 'em talkin' and to wonder what they meant | N |
| - | |
| And when the 'ydrophoby came five year ago next May | O |
| When Nailer was be'avin' in a most owdacious way | O |
| I fixed 'im so's 'e couldn't bite my 'ands on neck an' back | B |
| An' I 'eaved 'im from the kennels and they say I saved the pack | B |
| - | |
| An' when the Master 'eard of it 'e up an' says says 'e | P |
| 'If that chap were a soldier man they'd give 'im the V C ' | - |
| Which is some kind a' medal what they give to soldier men | Q |
| An' Master said if I were such I would 'a' got it then | Q |
| - | |
| Parson brought 'is Bible and come to read to me | J |
| ''Ave what you like there's everythink within this Book ' says 'e | P |
| Says I 'They've left the 'orses out ' Says 'e 'You are mistook ' | - |
| An' 'e up an' read a 'eap of things about them from the Book | R |
| - | |
| And some of it amazin' fine although I'm fit to swear | S |
| No 'orse would ever say 'Ah ah ' same as they said it there | S |
| Per'aps it was an 'Ebrew 'orse the chap 'ad in his mind | T |
| But I never 'eard an English 'orse say nothin' of the kind | T |
| - | |
| Parson is a good 'un I've known 'im from a lad | U |
| 'Twas me as taught 'im ridin' an' 'e rides uncommon bad | U |
| And he says But 'ark an' listen There's an 'orn I 'eard it blow | V |
| Pull the blind from off the winder Prop me up and 'old me so | V |
| - | |
| They're drawin' the black 'anger just aside the Squire's grounds | W |
| 'Ark and listen 'Ark and listen There's the yappin' of the 'ounds | W |
| There's Fanny and Beltinker and I 'ear old Boxer call | X |
| You see I wasn't boastin' when I said I knew 'em all | X |
| - | |
| Let me sit an' 'old the bedrail Now I see 'em as they pass | W |
| There's Squire upon the Midland mare a good 'un on the grass | W |
| But this is closish country and you wants a clever 'orse | W |
| When 'alf the time you're in the woods an' 'alf among the gorse | W |
| - | |
| 'Ark to Jack a'ollering a bleatin' like a lamb | Y |
| You wouldn't think it now perhaps to see the thing I am | Y |
| But there was a time the ladies used to linger at the meet | Z |
| Just to 'ear me callin' in the woods my callin' was so sweet | Z |
| - | |
| I see the crossroads corner with the field awaitin' there | S |
| There's Purcell on 'is piebald 'orse an' Doctor on the mare | S |
| And the Master on 'is iron grey she isn't much to look | R |
| But I seed 'er do clean twenty foot across the 'eathly brook | R |
| - | |
| There's Captain Kane an' McIntyre an' 'alf a dozen more | E |
| And two or three are 'untin' whom I never seed afore | E |
| Likely lookin' chaps they be well groomed and 'orsed and dressed | A2 |
| I wish they could 'a seen the pack when it was at its best | A2 |
| - | |
| It's a check and they are drawin' down the coppice for a scent | N |
| You can see as they've been runnin' for the 'orses they are spent | N |
| I'll lay the fox will break this way downwind as sure as fate | B2 |
| An' if he does you'll see the field come poundin' through our gate | B2 |
| - | |
| But Maggie what's that slinkin' beside the cover See | W |
| Now it's in the clover field and goin' fast an' free | W |
| It's 'im and they don't see 'im It's 'im 'Alloo 'Alloo | X |
| My broken wind won't run to it I'll leave the job to you | C2 |
| - | |
| There now I 'ear the music and I know they're on his track | B |
| Oh watch 'em Maggie watch 'em Ain't they just a lovely pack | B |
| I've nursed 'em through distemper an' I've trained an' broke 'em in | D2 |
| An' my 'eart it just goes out to them as if they was my kin | D2 |
| - | |
| Well all things 'as an endin' as I've 'eard the parson say | W |
| The 'orse is cast an' the 'ound is past an' the 'unter 'as 'is day | W |
| But my day was yesterday so lay me down again | Q |
| You can draw the curtain Maggie right across the winder pane | E2 |
Arthur Conan Doyle
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