Marshal Neigh, V.c. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDED CEFEGHEH IJKJLBMB CNONJJJJ CIJPJQRQ BJJJCSBS JTATTUCU CTITTOTO EBJBJTTT EJJJIJJJ TVBVETET WCTCCPWI CXIXAIAI YZA2ZCTTT ATCTOB2JB2 C2EEETTTT| He came from tumbled country past the | A |
| humps of Buffalo | B |
| Where the snow sits on the mountain 'n' the | A |
| Summer aches below | B |
| He'd a silly name like Archie Squattin' | C |
| sullen on the ship | D |
| He knew nex' to holy nothin' through the gor | E |
| forsaken trip | D |
| - | |
| No thoughts he had of women no refreshin' | C |
| talk of beer | E |
| If he'd battled loved or suffered vital facts | F |
| did not appear | E |
| But the parsons and the poets couldn't teach | G |
| him to discourse | H |
| When it come to pokin' guyver at a pore | E |
| deluded horse | H |
| - | |
| If nags got sour 'n' kicked agin the rules of | I |
| things at sea | J |
| Artie argued matters with 'em 'n' he'd kid | K |
| 'em up a tree | J |
| Here's a pony got hystericks Pipe the word | L |
| for Privit Rowe | B |
| The Sargint yapped 'n' all the ship came | M |
| cluckin' to the show | B |
| - | |
| He'd chat him confidential 'n' he'd pet 'n' | C |
| paw the moke | N |
| He'd tickle him 'n' flatter him 'n' try him | O |
| with a joke | N |
| 'N' presently that neddy sobers up 'n' sez | J |
| Ive course | J |
| Since you puts it that way cobber I will be | J |
| a better horse | J |
| - | |
| There was one pertickler whaler known | C |
| aboard ez Marshal Neigh | I |
| Whose monkey tricks with Privit Rowe was | J |
| better than a play | P |
| He'd done stunts in someone's circus 'n' he | J |
| loved a merry bout | Q |
| Whirlin' in to bust his boiler or to kick | R |
| the bottom out | Q |
| - | |
| Rowe he sez Well there's an idjit Oh | B |
| yes let her whiz you beauty | J |
| Where's yer 'orse sense little feller Where's | J |
| yer bloomin' sense iv duty | J |
| Well you orter serve yer country Then | C |
| there'd come a painful hush | S |
| 'N' that nag would drop his head piece 'n' so | B |
| 'elp me cat he'd blush | S |
| - | |
| We was heaped ashore be Suez rifle horse | J |
| 'n' man 'n' tent | T |
| Where the land is sand the water 'n' the | A |
| gory firmament | T |
| We had intervals iv longin' we had sweaty | T |
| spells of work | U |
| In the ash pit iv Gehenner dumbly waitin' | C |
| fer the Turk | U |
| - | |
| We goes driftin' on the desert nothin' doin' | C |
| nothin' said | T |
| Till we get to think we're nowhere 'n' arf | I |
| fancy we are dead | T |
| 'N' the only 'uman interest on the red hori | T |
| zon's brim | O |
| Is Marshal Neigh's queer faney fer the lad | T |
| that straddles him | O |
| - | |
| Plain livin's nearly bored us stiff The Major | E |
| calls on Rowe | B |
| To devise an entertainment What his | J |
| charger doesn't know | B |
| Isn't in the regulations Him 'n' Rowe is | J |
| brothers met | T |
| 'N' that horse's sense iv humor is the oddest | T |
| fancy yet | T |
| - | |
| But the Turk arrives one mornin' on the outer | E |
| edge iv space | J |
| From back iv things his guns is floppin' kegs | J |
| about the place | J |
| 'N' Privit Artie Rowe along with others iv | I |
| the force | J |
| Goes pig rootin' inter battle holdin' converse | J |
| with his horse | J |
| - | |
| Little Abdul's quite a fighter 'n' he mixes it | T |
| with skill | V |
| But the Anzacs have him snouted 'n' oh | B |
| ma he's feelin' ill | V |
| They wake the all fired desert 'n' the land for | E |
| ever dead | T |
| Is alive 'n' fairly creepin' and the skies are | E |
| droppin' lead | T |
| - | |
| When they've got the Ot'man goin' little | W |
| gaudy hunts begin | C |
| It fer us to chiv His Trousers 'n' to round | T |
| the stragglers in | C |
| Cuttin' closest to the raw 'n' swearin' lovin' | C |
| all the way | P |
| Is Artie from Molinga on his neddy Marshal | W |
| Neigh | I |
| - | |
| We're pursuin' sundry camels turkey trottin' | C |
| anyhow | X |
| With the carriage iv an emu 'n' the action iv | I |
| a cow | X |
| When a sand dune busts 'n' belches arf a | A |
| million iv the foe | I |
| They uncork a blanky batt'ry 'n' it's Allah | A |
| let her go | I |
| - | |
| We're not stayin' dinner thank you Lie | Y |
| along yer horse 'n' yell | Z |
| While the bullets pip yer britches 'n' you | A2 |
| sniff the flue of Hell | Z |
| Here it is that Artie takes it good 'n' solid in | C |
| the crust | T |
| He dives from out the saddle 'n' is swallered | T |
| in the dust | T |
| - | |
| I got through 'n' saw them pointin' where the | A |
| Marshal faced the band | T |
| He was goin' where we came from sniffin' | C |
| bodies in the sand | T |
| Till he found Rowe snugglin' under took him | O |
| where his pants was slack | B2 |
| 'N' be all the Asiatic gods he brought his | J |
| soldier back | B2 |
| - | |
| With a bullet in his buttock 'n' a drill hole | C2 |
| in his ear | E |
| He dumped Artie down among us Square | E |
| 'n' all how did we cheer | E |
| There's no medals struck fer neddies but we | T |
| rule there orter be | T |
| 'N' the pride iv all the Light Horse is old | T |
| Marshal Neigh V C | T |
Edward George Dyson
(1)
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Marshal Neigh, V.c. is a poem by Edward George Dyson. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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