The Knife Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABBCBDBEBE

THE plough that marks on Harley's fieldA
In flying earth its printB
Throws up like death itself concealedA
A fang of rosy flintB
A flake of stone by fingers hewedB
Whose buried bones are goneC
All gone with fingers hunters foodB
But still the knife lives onD
And well I know when bones are noughtB
The blade of stone survivesE
I too from clods of aching thoughtB
Have turned up sharper knivesE

Kenneth Slessor



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About The Knife

The Knife is a poem by Kenneth Slessor. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.



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