'twixt The Wings Of The Yard Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCBDEDE CFGFDEHE IJKLMENE OKAKCEOE OPBPAECE NQRSCEAE TUVUCEWE AXCXNEAE YZNZA2EA2E| Hear 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 |
| - | |
| 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 |
| - | |
| 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 |
| - | |
| 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 |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| 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 |
| - | |
| 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 |
| - | |
| 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 |
| - | |
| 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 |
| - | |
| 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 Henry Thomas Boake
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