The Rebel Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCC DDEEFF GGCCHH IIJJBB KKLLFFMM KKNNCC

Call me traitor to my country and a rebel to my GodA
And the foe of law and order well deserving of the rodA
But I scorn the biassed sentence from the temples of the creedB
That was fouled and mutilated by the ministers of greedB
For the strength that I inherit is the strength of Truth and RightC
Lords of earth I am immortal in the battles cf the nightC
-
My religion is the oldest it was born upon the earthD
When to curse mankind for ages pride and tyranny had birthD
Tis the offspring of oppression born to suffering and strifeE
Born to hate above all other hate the things that gave it lifeE
And twill live through all the ages while a son of man is blindF
In the everlasting rhythm of the story of mankindF
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From the Maker s battered image where the bloody helmet gleamsG
From the graves of beaten armies rise the heroes of my dreamsG
I am ever with the weaker in the battles for the rightC
And I fight on vessels sinking neath the cruel blows of mightC
But I hear of coming triumph in the tramp of flying feetH
And the wild despairing music of the army in retreatH
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I am plunged in bitter sorrow at the sinking of a starI
For I mourn among the murdered where the broken lances areI
Souls of earth who rule with iron raining death on farm and townJ
Sacrificing lives uncounted putting just rebellions downJ
Ye shall answer for the murders of the slaves compelled to bleedB
For the commonwealth of idlers and the common cause of greedB
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I have come for common justice to the castles of the greatK
And the people who have sent me crave assistance at the gateK
They obeyed the Maker s sentence whey have ploughed and tilled the soilL
Yet they go in rags and hunger in the harvest of their toilL
I demand the rights of Labour in the law of God definedF
Pause and weigh the pregnant answer where is peace or war behindF
Are we slaves beneath the power that our industry hath givenM
Are we fuel to feed the engines of your artificial heavenM
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I am come to warn the idlers at the castles of the greatK
For the army that has sent me grows impatient at the gateK
They have gathered now in thousands from the alley and the denN
And the words of fire are breaking from the lips of quiet menN
Yield and save the lives of thousands for the rebels eyes are brightC
And the god of revolution is abroad on earth to nightC

Henry Lawson



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