The Great Boat-race Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDAAEAB F GGHHIJKKLLMMHHNDOOHH MMPPGGEEQHPPRRSSTTPP GGPPSSUVPPPPWWPPXXHH HHHHHHYYWW W W

HAWKSHAW rd TrinityA
PIGOTT CorpusB
WATSON PembrokeC
HAWKINS Lady MargaretD
KINGLAKE rd TrinityA
BORTHWICK st TrinityA
STEAVENSON Trinity HallE
SELWYN rd TrinityA
Steerer ARCHER CorpusB
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BEFORE THE RACEF
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Come list to me who wish to hear the glories of our crewG
I'll tell you all the names of those who wear the Cambridge BlueG
First HAWKSHAW comes a stalwart bow as tough as oak nay tougherH
Look at him ye who wish to see the Antipodes to dufferH
Swift as the Hawk in airy flight strong as the guardsman SHAWI
We men of mortal muscles must contemplate him with aweJ
Though I dwell by Cam's slow river and I hope am not a bigotK
I think that Isis cannot boast a better man than PIGOTTK
Active and strong and steady and never known to shirkL
Of Corpus the quintessence he is always fit for workL
The men of Thames will be amazed when they see our Three so strongM
And doubt if such a mighty form to mortal mould belongM
What son is this they one and all will ask in awe and wonderH
The men of Cam will answer make A mighty son of thunderH
Next HAWKINS comes at number the sole surviving petN
Of the patroness of rowing the Lady MargaretD
When they think of his broad shoulders and strong and sinewy armsO
Nor parents dear nor brothers stern need foster fond alarmsO
O a tear of love maternal in Etona's eye will quiverH
When she sees her favourate KINGLAKE also monarch of the riverH
Oh that I could honour fitly in this unassuming songM
That wondrous combination of steady long and strongM
Then comes a true blue mariner from the ever glorious FirstP
In the golden arms of Glory and the lap of Victory nurstP
Though blue may be his colours there are better oarsmen fewG
And Oxford when it sees him will perhaps look still more blueG
Then comes the son of STEPHEN as solid as a wallE
We need not add who know his name that he hails from Trinity HallE
Oh in the race when comes at last the struggle close and direQ
May he have the wind and courage of his tutor and his sireH
May he think of all the glories of the ribbon black and whiteP
And add another jewel to the diadem so brightP
Then comes a name which Camus and Etona know full wellR
A name that's always sure to win and ne'er will prove a sellR
O what joy will fill a Bishop's heart oft a far far distant shoreS
When he sees our Stroke reviving the memories of yoreS
Then old Cam will he revisit in fancy's fairy dreamT
And rouse once more with sounding oar the slow and sluggish streamT
But who is this with voice so shrill so resolute and readyP
Who cries so oft too late too soon quicker forward Steady steadyP
Why 'tis our young toxophilite our ARCHER bold and trueG
The lightest and the tightest who has ever steered light blueG
O when he pulls the yielding string may he shoot both strong and straightP
And may the night be swift and sure of his mighty arrows eightP
May he add another victory to increase our Cambridge scoreS
May Father Thames again behold the light blue to the foreS
But ah the name of Victory falls feebly on my earU
Forgive me 'tis not cowardice that bids me shed this tearV
I weep to think that three long years have looked on our defeatP
For three long years we ne'er have known the taste of triumph sweetP
O Father Cam O Father Thames O ye nymphs of Chiswick eyotP
O Triton O Poseidon Take some pity on our fateP
What's the use of resolution or of training or of scienceW
If anxious friends and relatives to our efforts bid defianceW
If they take our strongest heroes from the middle of the boatP
Lest exposure to the weather should result in a sore throatP
We've rowed our boat when wave on wave o'er ship and crew was dashingX
And little were we troubled by the steamers and the splashingX
O little do the light blues care when tempests round them gatherH
We'll meet the raging of the skies but not an angry fatherH
For though our vessel sank our hearts were buoyant as a featherH
Since we knew that we had done our best in spite of wind and weatherH
Then all ye Gods and Goddesses who rule o'er lake and riverH
O wipe away the trembling tear which in mine eye doth quiverH
O wipe away the dire defeats that now we often sufferH
Let not the name of Cambridge blue be breathed with that of dufferH
O melt the hearts of governors for who can hope to thriveY
If when we're just together they despoil us of our FiveY
And lastly when 'mid shouts and cheers and screams and deafening dinsW
The two boats start upon their courseW
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AFTER THE RACEW
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Dei mihi Oxford winsW
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Edward Woodley Bowling



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