Fortune Of War Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BA BC DE D F GF FF FF F F HF HI EI E J EJ EK LK L F FF FF MF M B NB NF OF O P FP FQ RO R| NOUGHT more accursed in war I know | A |
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| Than getting off scot free | B |
| Inured to danger on we go | A |
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| In constant victory | B |
| We first unpack then pack again | C |
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| With only this reward | D |
| That when we're marching we complain | E |
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| And when in camp are bor'd | D |
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| The time for billeting comes next | F |
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| The peasant curses it | G |
| Each nobleman is sorely vex'd | F |
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| 'Tis hated by the cit | F |
| Be civil bad though be thy food | F |
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| The clowns politely treat | F |
| If to our hosts we're ever rude | F |
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| Jail bread we're forced to eat | F |
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| And when the cannons growl around | F |
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| And small arms rattle clear | H |
| And trumpet trot and drum resound | F |
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| We merry all appear | H |
| And as it in the fight may chance | I |
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| We yield then charge amain | E |
| And now retire and now advance | I |
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| And yet a cross ne'er gain | E |
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| At length there comes a musket ball | J |
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| And hits the leg please Heaven | E |
| And then our troubles vanish all | J |
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| For to the town we're driven | E |
| Well cover'd by the victor's force | K |
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| Where we in wrath first came | L |
| The women frightened then of course | K |
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| Are loving now and tame | L |
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| Cellar and heart are open'd wide | F |
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| The cook's allow'd no rest | F |
| While beds with softest down supplied | F |
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| Are by our members press'd | F |
| The nimble lads upon us wait | F |
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| No sleep the hostess takes | M |
| Her shift is torn in pieces straight | F |
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| What wondrous lint it makes | M |
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| If one has tended carefully | B |
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| The hero's wounded limb | N |
| Her neighbour cannot rest for she | B |
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| Has also tended him | N |
| A third arrives in equal haste | F |
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| At length they all are there | O |
| And in the middle he is placed | F |
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| Of the whole band so fair | O |
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| On good authority the king | P |
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| Hears how we love the fight | F |
| And bids them cross and ribbon bring | P |
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| Our coat and breast to dight | F |
| Say if a better fate can e'er | Q |
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| A son of Mars pursue | R |
| 'Midst tears at length we go from there | O |
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| Beloved and honour'd too | R |
Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
(1)
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