Count Eberhard, The Groaner Of Wurtemberg. A War Song Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABAAB CDCCD EFEEF GHGGH IJCCJ KLKKL MNMMN FAFFA OPOOP QRQQR STSST URUUR FVTFV IWIIW XYXZY ABAAB

Now hearken ye who take delightA
In boasting of your worthB
To many a man to many a knightA
Beloved in peace and brave in fightA
The Swabian land gives birthB
-
Of Charles and Edward Louis GuyC
And Frederick ye may boastD
Charles Edward Louis Frederick GuyC
None with Sir Eberhard can vieC
Himself a mighty hostD
-
And then young Ulerick his sonE
Ha how he loved the frayF
Young Ulerick the Count's bold sonE
When once the battle had begunE
No foot's breadth e'er gave wayF
-
The Reutlingers with gnashing teethG
Saw our bright ranks revealedH
And panting for the victor's wreathG
They drew the sword from out the sheathG
And sought the battle fieldH
-
He charged the foe but fruitlesslyI
Then mail clad homeward spedJ
Stern anger filled his father's eyeC
And made the youthful warrior flyC
And tears of anguish shedJ
-
Now rascals quake This grieved him soreK
And rankled in his brainL
And by his father's beard he sworeK
With many a craven townsman's goreK
To wash out this foul stainL
-
Ere long the feud raged fierce and loudM
Then hastened steed and manN
To Doeffingen in thronging crowdM
While joy inspired the youngster proudM
And soon the strife beganN
-
Our army's signal word that dayF
Was the disastrous fightA
It spurred us on like lightning's rayF
And plunged us deep in bloody frayF
And in the spears' black nightA
-
The youthful Count his ponderous maceO
With lion's rage swung roundP
Destruction stalked before his faceO
While groans and howlings filled the placeO
And hundreds bit the groundP
-
Woe Woe A heavy sabre strokeQ
Upon his neck descendedR
The sight each warrior's pity wokeQ
In vain In vain No word he spokeQ
His course on earth was endedR
-
Loud wept both friend and foeman thenS
Checked was the victor's glowT
The count cheered thus his knights againS
My son is like all other menS
March children 'gainst the foeT
-
With greater fury whizzed each lanceU
Revenge inflamed the bloodR
O'er corpses moved the fearful danceU
The townsmen fled in random chanceU
O'er mountain vale and floodR
-
Then back to camp with trumpet's brayF
We hied in joyful hasteV
And wife and child with roundelayT
With clanging cup and waltzes gayF
Our glorious triumph gracedV
-
And our old Count what now does heI
His son lies dead before himW
Within his tent all woefullyI
He sits alone in agonyI
And drops one hot tear o'er himW
-
And so with true affection warmX
The Count our lord we loveY
Himself a mighty hero swarmX
The thunders rest within his armZ
He shines like star aboveY
-
Farewell then ye who take delightA
In boasting of your worthB
To many a man to many a knightA
Beloved in peace and brave in fightA
The Swabian land gives birthB

Friedrich Schiller



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