My Boating Song Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCBCBDBD EFEF A GHGHIJIJ EFEF A EKEKLMLM EFEF N OPOPBQBQ EFEF O ORORBSBS EFEF

IA
-
Oh this earth is a mineful of treasureB
A goblet that's full to the brimC
And each man may take for his pleasureB
The thing that's most pleasant to himC
Then let all who are birds of my featherB
Throw heart and soul into my songD
Mark the time pick it up all togetherB
And merrily row it alongD
-
Hurrah boys or losing or winningE
Feel your stretchers and make the blades bendF
Hard on to it catch the beginningE
And pull it clean through to the endF
-
IIA
-
I'll admit 'tis delicious to plunge inG
Clear pools with their shadows at restH
'Tis nimble to parry or lunge inG
Your foil at the enemy's chestH
'Tis rapture to take a man's wicketI
Or lash round to leg for a fourJ
But somehow the glories of cricketI
Depend on the state of the scoreJ
-
But in boating or losing or winningE
Though victory may not attendF
Oh 'tis jolly to catch the beginningE
And pull it clean through to the endF
-
IIIA
-
'Tis brave over hill and dale sweepingE
To be in at the death of the foxK
Or to whip where the salmon are leapingE
The river that roars o'er the rocksK
'Tis prime to bring down the cock pheasantL
And yachting is certainly greatM
But beyond all expression 'tis pleasantL
To row in a rattling good eightM
-
Then hurrah boys or losing or winningE
What matter what labour we spendF
Hard on to it catch the beginningE
And pull it clean through to the endF
-
IVN
-
Shove her off Half a stroke Now get readyO
Five seconds Four three two one gunP
Well started Well rowed Keep her steadyO
You'll want all your wind e'er you've doneP
Now you're straight Let the pace become swifterB
Roll the wash to the left and the rightQ
Pick it up all together and lift herB
As though she would bound out of sightQ
-
Hurrah Hall Hall now you're winningE
Feel your stretchers and make the blades bendF
Hard on to it catch the beginningE
And pull it clean through to the endF
-
VO
-
Bump Bump O ye gods how I pityO
The ears those sweet sounds never heardR
More tuneful than loveliest dittyO
E'er poured from the throat of a birdR
There's a prize for each honest endeavourB
But none for the man who's a shirkS
And the pluck that we've showed on the riverB
Shall tell in the rest of our workS
-
At the last whether losing or winningE
This thought with all memories blendF
We forgot not to catch the beginningE
And we pulled it clean through to the endF

Horace Smith



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About My Boating Song

My Boating Song is a poem by Horace Smith. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.



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