Riding Round The Lines Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABB CCBB DDBB EEBB BBBB FFBB BBGG HHBB IIJJ KKLL GGBB MMBB| Dust and smoke against the sunrise out where grim disaster lurks | A |
| And a broken sky line looming like unfinished railway works | A |
| And a trot trot trot and canter down inside the belt of mines | B |
| It is General Greybeard Shrapnel who is riding round his lines | B |
| - | |
| And the scarecrows from the trenches haggard eyes and hollow cheeks | C |
| War stained uniforms and ragged that have not been off for weeks | C |
| They salute him and they cheer him and they watch his face for signs | B |
| Ah they try to read old Greybeard while he s riding round the lines | B |
| - | |
| There s a crack crack crack and rattle there s a thud and there s a crash | D |
| In the battery over yonder there is something gone to smash | D |
| Then a hush and sudden movement and its meaning he divines | B |
| And he patches up a blunder while he s riding round his lines | B |
| - | |
| Pushing this position forward bringing that position back | E |
| While his officers with orders ride like hell down hell s own track | E |
| Making hay and to what purpose while his sun of winter shines | B |
| But his work is just beginning when he s ridden round his lines | B |
| - | |
| There are fifty thousand rifles and a hundred batteries | B |
| All a playing battle music with his fingers on the keys | B |
| And if for an hour exhausted on his camp bed he reclines | B |
| In his mind he still is riding he is riding round his lines | B |
| - | |
| He s the brains of fifty thousand blundering at their country s call | F |
| He s the one hope of his nation and the loneliest man of all | F |
| He is flesh and blood and human though he never shews the signs | B |
| He is General Greybeard Shrapnel who is fixing up his lines | B |
| - | |
| It is thankless work and weary and for all his neighbour knows | B |
| He may sometimes feel as if he doesn t half care how it goes | B |
| But for all that can be gathered from his eyes of steely blue | G |
| He might be a great contractor who has some big job to do | G |
| - | |
| There s the son who died in action it may be a week ago | H |
| There s the wife and other troubles that most men have got to know | H |
| And we ll say the grey haired mother underneath the porch of vines | B |
| Does he ever think of these things while he s riding round his lines | B |
| - | |
| He is bossed by bitter boobies who can never understand | I |
| He is hampered by the asses and the robbers of the land | I |
| And I feel inclined to wonder what his own opinions are | J |
| Of the Government the country of the war and of the Czar | J |
| - | |
| He s the same when he s advancing he s the same in grim retreat | K |
| For he wears one mask in triumph and the same mask in defeat | K |
| Of the brave he is the bravest he is strongest of the strong | L |
| General Greybeard Shrapnel never shows that anything is wrong | L |
| - | |
| But we each and all are lonely and we have our work to do | G |
| We must fight for wife and children or our country and our screw | G |
| In the everlasting struggle to the end that fate destines | B |
| In the war that men call living we are riding round our lines | B |
| - | |
| I ride round my last defences where the bitter jibes are flung | M |
| I am patching up the blunders that I made when I was young | M |
| And I may be digging pitfalls and I may be laying mines | B |
| For I sometimes feel like Shrapnel while I m riding round my lines | B |
Henry Lawson
(1)
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