'twixt The Wings Of The Yard Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCBDEDE CFGFDEHE IJKLMENE OKAKCEOE OPBPAECE NQRSCEAE TUVUCEWE AXCXNEAE YZNZA2EA2EHear the loud swell of it mighty pell mell of it | A |
Thousands of voices all blent into one | B |
See hell for leather now trooping together now | C |
Down the long slope of the range at a run | B |
Dust in the wake of 'em see the wild break of 'em | D |
Spear horned and curly red spotted and starred | E |
See the lads bringing 'em blocking 'em ringing 'em | D |
Fetching 'em up to the wings of the yard | E |
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Mark that red leader now what a fine bleeder now | C |
Twelve hundred at least if he weighs half a pound | F |
None go ahead of him Mark the proud tread of him | G |
See how he bellows and paws at the ground | F |
Watch the mad rush of 'em raging and crush of 'em | D |
See when they struck how the corner post jarred | E |
What a mad chasing and wheeling and racing and | H |
Turbulent talk 'twixt the wings of the yard | E |
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Harry and Teddy there let them go steady there | I |
Some of you youngsters will surely get pinned | J |
What am I saying I've had my last day in | K |
The saddle I might as well talk to the wind | L |
Why should I grieve at all soon I must leave it all | M |
Leave it for ever and yet it seems hard | E |
That I should be lingering here 'stead of fingering | N |
Handle of whip 'twixt the wings of the yard | E |
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Hear the loud crack of the whips on the back of the | O |
Obstinate weaners who will not go in | K |
Sharp fusilade of it till half afraid of it | A |
Echo herself shuts her ears at the din | K |
They'll say when it's over now that I'm in clover now | C |
Happy old pensioner yet it seems hard | E |
E'en on the brink of the grave when I think of the | O |
Times out of mind that I rode to that yard | E |
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Hark to the row at the rails there's a cow at the | O |
Charge how she laughs all their lashes to scorn | P |
Mark how she ran ag'in little Tom Flannagan | B |
Lucky for him that it wasn't her horn | P |
He'd make no joke of it had he a poke of it | A |
There she comes back but he's put on his guard | E |
Greenhide descending now sharp reports blending now | C |
Flogging her back up the wings of the yard | E |
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The breeze brings their bellowing soft'ning it mellowing | N |
Till it sounds like a spent giant in pain | Q |
Steals up the valley on sounding a rally on | R |
Sonorous hills that return it again | S |
Useless my whining now useless repining now | C |
'Twon't make me any less battered and scarred | E |
Though I've grown grey at it oh for a day at it | A |
Oh for an hour 'twixt the wings of the yard | E |
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Oh how I yearn for those times how I burn for those | T |
Days when my weapons the whip and the spur | U |
The double reigned bridle were not hanging idle | V |
But I'm old and as useless as Stupmy that cur | U |
No good for heeling now he has a feeling now | C |
Not unlike mine that it's woefully hard | E |
We should be lying here groaning and sighing here | W |
Watching the cattle come up to the yard | E |
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Life has no salt in it See how I halt in it | A |
I who once rode with the first of the flight | X |
Watching and waiting now feebly debating now | C |
Whether the close will bring darkness or light | X |
Half my time pondering back through life wandering | N |
Groaning to see how life has been marred | E |
Seeing the blots in it all the bad spots in it | A |
Mustering bringing past sins to the yard | E |
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Shall I be able to show a clean waybill to | Y |
God when he rounds up and drafts off his own | Z |
When at the mustering millions of clustering | N |
Souls come to judgement before the white throne | Z |
Is the Lord's hand on me Have I his brand on me | A2 |
When I go up will the passage be barred | E |
Am I a chosen one must the gates close on me | A2 |
Shall I be left 'twixt the wings of the yard | E |
Barcroft Boake
(1)
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