The Combat. By Etty Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEE FFGHIIJJKLMM NNFFOOPPQQDDRR SSDTUUVV TUWWXYHH| THEY fled for there was for the brave | A |
| Left only a dishonour'd grave | A |
| The day was lost and his red hand | B |
| Was now upon a broken brand | B |
| The foes were in his native town | C |
| The gates were forced the walls were down | C |
| The burning city lit the sky | D |
| What had he then to do but fly | D |
| Fly to the mountain rock where yet | E |
| Revenge might strike or peace forget | E |
| - | |
| They fled for she was by his side | F |
| Life's last and loveliest link his bride | F |
| Friends fame hope freedom all were gone | G |
| Or linger'd only with that one | H |
| They hasten'd by the lonely way | I |
| That through the winding forest lay | I |
| Hearth home tower temple blazed behind | J |
| And shout and shriek came on the wind | J |
| And twice the warrior turn'd again | K |
| And cursed the arm that now in vain | L |
| Wounded and faint essay'd to grasp | M |
| The sword that trembled in its clasp | M |
| - | |
| At last they reach'd a secret shade | N |
| Which seem'd as for their safety made | N |
| And there they paused for the warm tide | F |
| Burst in red gushes from his side | F |
| And hung the drops on brow and cheek | O |
| And his gasp'd breath came thick and weak | O |
| She took her long dark hair and bound | P |
| The cool moss on each gaping wound | P |
| And in her closed up hands she brought | Q |
| The water which his hot lip sought | Q |
| And anxious gazed upon his eye | D |
| As asking shall we live or die | D |
| Almost as if she thought his breath | R |
| Had power o'er his own life and death | R |
| - | |
| But hark 'tis not the wind deceives | S |
| There is a step among the leaves | S |
| Her blood runs cold her heart beats high | D |
| It is their fiercest enemy | T |
| He of the charm'd and deadly steel | U |
| Whose stroke was never known to heal | U |
| He of the sword sworn not to spare | V |
| She flung her down in her despair | V |
| - | |
| The dying chief sprang to his knee | T |
| And the staunch'd wounds well'd fearfully | U |
| But his gash'd arm what is it now | W |
| Livid his lip and black his brow | W |
| While over him the slayer stood | X |
| As if he almost scorn'd the blood | Y |
| That cost so little to be won | H |
| He strikes the work of death is done | H |
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
(1)
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