A Song Of Defeat Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABACDEDEFGFGHHAH HIHIJKJKLMLMNNAN AOAOFPFPQRQRAAAA| The line breaks and the guns go under | A |
| The lords and the lackeys ride the plain | B |
| I draw deep breaths of the dawn and thunder | A |
| And the whole of my heart grows young again | C |
| For our chiefs said 'Done ' and I did not deem it | D |
| Our seers said 'Peace ' and it was not peace | E |
| Earth will grow worse till men redeem it | D |
| And wars more evil ere all wars cease | E |
| But the old flags reel and the old drums rattle | F |
| As once in my life they throbbed and reeled | G |
| I have found my youth in the lost battle | F |
| I have found my heart on the battlefield | G |
| For we that fight till the world is free | H |
| We are not easy in victory | H |
| We have known each other too long my brother | A |
| And fought each other the world and we | H |
| - | |
| And I dream of the days when work was scrappy | H |
| And rare in our pockets the mark of the mint | I |
| When we were angry and poor and happy | H |
| And proud of seeing our names in print | I |
| For so they conquered and so we scattered | J |
| When the Devil road and his dogs smelt gold | K |
| And the peace of a harmless folk was shattered | J |
| When I was twenty and odd years old | K |
| When the mongrel men that the market classes | L |
| Had slimy hands upon England's rod | M |
| And sword in hand upon Afric's passes | L |
| Her last Republic cried to God | M |
| For the men no lords can buy or sell | N |
| They sit not easy when all goes well | N |
| They have said to each other what naught can smother | A |
| They have seen each other our souls and hell | N |
| - | |
| It is all as of old the empty clangour | A |
| The Nothing scrawled on a five foot page | O |
| The huckster who mocking holy anger | A |
| Painfully paints his face with rage | O |
| And the faith of the poor is faint and partial | F |
| And the pride of the rich is all for sale | P |
| And the chosen heralds of England's Marshal | F |
| Are the sandwich men of the Daily Mail | P |
| And the niggards that dare not give are glutted | Q |
| And the feeble that dare not fail are strong | R |
| So while the City of Toil is gutted | Q |
| I sit in the saddle and sing my song | R |
| For we that fight till the world is free | A |
| We have no comfort in victory | A |
| We have read each other as Cain his brother | A |
| We know each other these slaves and we | A |
Gilbert Keith Chesterton
(1)
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