The Death Of Sir James, Lord Of Douglas Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABC D EEFFGGHHIIBBJJGGKKLL EEFFMMNNOOGGPPJJQRBB SSOOFFOOJJSSJJEE

i Men may weill wyt thouch nane thaim tellA
How angry for sorow and how fellA
Is to tyne sic a Lord as heB
To thaim that war off hys mengyeC
-
Barbour's Bruce B XX i iD
-
-
Where rich Seville's proud turrets riseE
A foreign ship at anchor liesE
The pennons floating in the airF
Proclaim that one of rank is thereF
The Douglas with a gallant bandG
Of warriors seeks the Holy LandG
But wherefore now the trumpet's brayH
The clang of arms and war s arrayH
The atabal and martial drumI
The Moor the infidel is comeI
And there is Sultan Osmyn seeB
With all his Paynim chivalryB
And they have sworn to glut their steelJ
With the best blood of fair CastileJ
And do we here inactive standG
The Douglas cries Land comrades landG
Then for the Christian camp he makesK
When thus Alphonso silence breaksK
What news from Scotland do you bringL
And where is now your patriot kingL
Alas within this casket liesE
The heart so valiant good and wiseE
This to the Holy Land we bearF
For we have sworn to lay it thereF
But let us forward to the fightM
And God protect the Christian rightM
To whom Alphonso Scottish lordN
That now for Spain cost draw that swordN
The terror of thy English foesO
When for her freedom Scotland roseO
With knights like thee and thy brave bandG
We ll drive the Moslem from the landG
The Douglas thus his comrades cheersP
Be brave and as for him that fearsP
Let the base coward turn and flyJ
For we will gain the day or dieJ
Now couch the trusty Scottish spearQ
And think King Robert s heart is hereR
And boldly charge already seeB
The dogs of Moslems turn and fleeB
At the first onset with the slainS
Those valiant warriors strew the plainS
But hark the Allah Hu the foesO
Rally and hot the combat growsO
For here the Spaniards yield and thereF
The Moors have slain the brave St ClairF
Then midst the thickest of his foesO
The precious casket Douglas throwsO
Pass on before us hear him cryJ
For I will follow thee or dieJ
He rushes on but all in vainS
For thicker comes the arrowy rainS
And now by multitudes opprestJ
With many a wound upon his breastJ
Where midst the slain the casket liesE
A noble death the Douglas diesE

James Clerk Maxwell



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