The Letters Of The Dead Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABAABC CDCCDD EBEEBB FGHHGG IBIIBB JKJJKK LMLLMM N NNBB OPOOPP FQFFQQ RCRRCC STSSTT| A letter came from Dick to day | A |
| A greeting glad he sends to me | B |
| He tells of one more bloody fray | A |
| Of how with bomb and rifle they | A |
| Have put their mark for all to see | B |
| Across rock ribbed Gallipoli | C |
| - | |
| How are you doing Hope all's well | C |
| I in great nick and like the work | D |
| Though there may be a brimstone smell | C |
| And other pungent hints of Hell | C |
| Not Satan's self can make us shirk | D |
| Our task of hitting up the Turk | D |
| - | |
| You bet old Slacks is not half bad | E |
| He knows his business in a scrim | B |
| He gets cold steel or we are glad | E |
| To stop him with a bullet lad | E |
| Or sling a bomb his hair to trim | B |
| But straight we throw no mud at him | B |
| - | |
| He fights and falls and comes again | F |
| And knocks our charging lines about | G |
| He's game at heart and tough in grain | H |
| And canters through the leaded rain | H |
| Chock full of mettle not a doubt | G |
| 'T will do us proud to put him out | G |
| - | |
| But that's our job to see it through | I |
| We've made our minds up come what may | B |
| This noon we had our work to do | I |
| The shells were dropping two by two | I |
| We fairly felt their bullets play | B |
| Among our hair for half a day | B |
| - | |
| One clipped my ear a red hot kiss | J |
| Another beggar chipped my shin | K |
| They pass you with a vicious hiss | J |
| That makes you duck but hit or miss | J |
| It isn't in the Sultan's skin | K |
| To shift Australia's cheerful grin | K |
| - | |
| My oath old man though we were prone | L |
| We didn't take it lying down | M |
| I got a dozen on my own | L |
| All dread of killing now is flown | L |
| It is the game and hard and brown | M |
| We're wading in for freedom's crown | M |
| - | |
| Big guns are booming as I write | N |
| A lad is singing 'Dolly Grey ' | - |
| The shells are skipping in the night | N |
| And square and all I feeling right | N |
| For whisper Ned the fellows say | B |
| I did a ripping thing to day | B |
| - | |
| Soon homeward tramping with the band | O |
| All notched a bit and with the prize | P |
| Of glory for our native land | O |
| I'll see my little sweetheart stand | O |
| And smile her smile so sweet and wise | P |
| With proud tears shining in her eyes | P |
| - | |
| Geewhiz What price your humble when | F |
| Triumphant from the last attack | Q |
| We face a Melbourne crowd again | F |
| Tough happy battle proven men | F |
| And while the cheer stormed heavens crack | Q |
| I bring the tattered colors back | Q |
| - | |
| A mist is o'er the written line | R |
| Whence martial ardor seems to flow | C |
| A dull ache holds this heart of mine | R |
| Poor boy he had a vision fine | R |
| But grave dust clouds the royal glow | C |
| He died in action weeks ago | C |
| - | |
| He was my friend I may not weep | S |
| My soul goes out to Him who bled | T |
| I pray for Christ's compassion deep | S |
| On mothers lovers all who keep | S |
| The woeful vigil having read | T |
| The joyous letters of the dead | T |
Edward George Dyson
(1)
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