Fire! Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B CDCDEEECF CCCCGGEEEHEEHEH IICICEEJEJCCCJ K LMLMCCNCCN K OCPPPCCCC K K CCJ

By Sir W SA
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Written on the occasion of the visit of the United Fire Brigades to OxfordB
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I-
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St Giles's street is fair and wideC
St Giles's street is longD
But long or wide may naught abideC
Therein of guile or wrongD
For through St Giles's to and froE
The mild ecclesiastics goE
From prime to evensongE
It were a fearsome task perdieC
To sin in such good companyF
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II-
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Long had the slanting beam of dayC
Proclaimed the Thirtieth of MayC
Ere now erect its fiery heatC
Illumined all that hallowed streetC
And breathing benediction onG
Thy serried battlements St JohnG
Suffused at once with equal glowE
The cluster'd ArchipelagoE
The Art Professor's studioE
And Mr Greenwood's shopH
Thy building Pusey where belowE
The stout Salvation soldiers blowE
The cornet till they dropH
Thine Balliol where we move and ohE
Thine Randolph where we stopH
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III-
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But what is this that frights the airI
And wakes the curate from his lairI
In Pusey's cool retreatC
To leave the feast to climb the stairI
And scan the startled streetC
As when perambulate the youngE
And call with unrelenting tongueE
On home mamma and sireJ
Or voters shout with strength of lungE
For Hall Co's EntireJ
Or Sabbath breakers scream and shoutC
The band of Booth with drum devoutC
Eliza on her Sunday outC
Or Farmer with his choirJ
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IVK
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E'en so with shriek of fife and drumL
And horrid clang of brassM
The Fire Brigades of England comeL
And down St Giles's passM
Oh grand methinks in such arrayC
To spend a Whitsun HolidayC
All soaking to the skinN
Yet shoes and hose alike are stoutC
The shoes to keep the water outC
The hose to keep it inN
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VK
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They came from Henley on the ThamesO
From Berwick on the TweedC
And at the mercy of the flamesP
They left their children and their damesP
To come and play their little gamesP
On Morrell's dewy meadC
Yet feared they not with fire to playC
The pyrotechnics so they sayC
Were very fine indeedC
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VIK
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P S by Lord MacaulayK
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Then let us bless Our Gracious Queen and eke the Fire BrigadeC
And bless no less the horrid mess they've been and gone and madeC
Remove the dirt they chose to squirt upon our best attireJ
Bless all but most the lucky chance that no one shouted 'Fire '-

Arthur Thomas Quiller-couch



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Fire! is a poem by Arthur Thomas Quiller-couch. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.



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