The Cynotaph, Poem Rhyme Scheme

Recent Interactions*

This poem was read 37 times,

This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members,

This poem was voted by 0 members.

(* Interactions only in the last 7 days)

New Poems

A Guidebook To My Future Friends
by Aditi Mukherjee
Ndihamba Ndisekhona" Chant Beat: Stomp-stomp-clap, Stomp-stomp-clap
by Asher Chipu
Ledige Praatjies
by Asher Chipu
Life Is Working
by Asher Chipu
The Knocking To The Door
by Asher Chipu
Ubizo: What You Are Called To Do
by Asher Chipu
Sum Obsession
by Asher Chipu
Locust
by Asher Chipu
Eden Passing
by Asher Chipu
I Am The Silence
by Asher Chipu

Popular Poets

1. Emily Dickinson(2415 poems)
2. Madison Julius Cawein(1231 poems)
3. Ella Wheeler Wilcox(1136 poems)
4. William Wordsworth(1016 poems)
5. Robert Burns(986 poems)
6. Edgar Albert Guest(945 poems)
7. Thomas Moore(849 poems)
8. Robert Service(831 poems)

Poor Tray charmant	A
Poor Tray de mon Ami	B
Dog bury and Vergers	C
	-
	-
Oh where shall I bury my poor dog Tray	D
Now his fleeting breath has pass'd away	D
Seventeen years I can venture to say	D
Have I seen him gambol and frolic and play	D
Evermore happy and frisky and gay	D
As though every one of his months was May	D
And the whole of his life one long holiday	D
Now he's a lifeless lump of clay	D
Oh where shall I bury my faithful Tray	D
	-
I am almost tempted to think it hard	A
That it may not be there in yon sunny churchyard	A
Where the green willows wave	E
O'er the peaceful grave	E
Which holds all that once was honest and brave	E
Kind and courteous and faithful and true	F
Qualities Tray that were found in you	F
But it may not be you sacred ground	A
By holiest feelings fenced around	A
May ne'er within its hallow'd bound	A
Receive the dust of a soul less hound	A
	-
I would not place him in yonder fane	G
Where the mid day sun through the storied pane	G
Throws on the pavement a crimson stain	G
Where the banners of chivalry heavily swing	H
O'er the pinnacled tomb of the Warrior King	H
With helmet and shield and all that sort of thing	H
No come what may	D
My gentle Tray	D
Shan't be an intruder on bluff Harry Tudor	I
Or panoplied monarchs yet earlier and ruder	I
Whom you see on their backs	C
In stone or in wax	C
Though the sacristans now are 'forbidden to ax'	C
For what Mister Hume calls 'a scandalous tax '	-
While the Chartists insist they've a right to go snacks	C
No Tray's humble tomb would look but shabby	B
'Mid the sculptured shrines of that gorgeous Abbey	B
Besides in the place	C
They say there's not space	C
To bury what wet nurses call 'a Babby '	-
Even 'Rare Ben Jonson ' that famous wight	A
I am told is interr'd there bolt upright	A
In just such a posture beneath his bust	A
As Tray used to sit in to beg for a crust	A
The epitaph too	F
Would scarcely do	F
For what could it say but 'Here lies Tray	D
A very good sort of a dog in his day '	-
And satirical folks might be apt to imagine it	A
Meant as a quiz on the House of Plantagenet	A
	-
No no The Abbey may do very well	J
For a feudal 'Nob' or poetical 'Swell '	-
'Crusaders ' or 'Poets ' or 'Knights of St John '	-
Or Knights of St John's Wood who last year went on	K
To the Castle of Goode Lorde Eglintonne	K
Count Fiddle fumkin and Lord Fiddle faddle	J
'Sir Craven ' 'Sir Gael ' and 'Sir Campbell of Saddell '	-
Who as Mr Hook said when he heard of the feat	A
'Was somehow knock'd out of his family seat '	-
The Esquires of the body	A
To my Lord Tomnoddy	A
'Sir Fairlie ' 'Sir Lamb '	-
And the 'Knight of the Ram '	-
The 'Knight of the Rose ' and the 'Knight of the Dragon '	-
Who save at the flagon	K
And prog in the waggon	K
The Newspapers tell us did little 'to brag on '	-
	-
And more though the Muse knows but little concerning 'em	L
'Sir Hopkins ' 'Sir Popkins ' 'Sir Gage ' and 'Sir Jerningham '	-
All Preux Chevaliers in friendly rivalry	A
Who should best bring back the glory of Chi valry	A
Pray be so good for the sake of my song	M
To pronounce here the ante penultimate long	M
Or some hyper critic will certainly cry	A
'The word 'Chivalry' is but a 'rhyme to the eye ''	-
And I own it is clear	A
A fastidious ear	A
Will be more or less always annoy'd with you when you	F
Insert any rhyme that's not perfectly genuine	K
As to pleasing the 'eye '	-
'Tisn't worth while to try	A
Since Moore and Tom Campbell themselves admit 'spinach'	N
Is perfectly antiphonetic to 'Greenwich	N
But stay I say	D
Let me pause while I may	D
This digression is leading me sadly astray	D
From my object A grave for my poor dog Tray	D
	-
I would not place him beneath thy walls	C
And proud o'ershadowing dome St Paul's	C
Though I've always consider'd Sir Christopher Wren	K
As an architect one of the greatest of men	K
And talking of Epitaphs much I admire his	C
'Circumspice si Monumentum requiris '	-
Which an erudite Verger translated to me	A
'If you ask for his Monument Sir come spy see '	-
No I should not know where	A
To place him there	A
I would not have him by surly Johnson be	A
Or that Queer looking horse that is rolling on Ponsonby	A
Or those ugly minxes	C
The sister Sphynxes	C
Mix'd creatures half lady half lioness ergo	O
Denon says the emblems of Leo and Virgo	O
On one of the backs of which singular jumble	J
Sir Ralph Abercrombie is going to tumble	J
With a thump which alone were enough to despatch him	P
If that Scotchman in front shouldn't happen to catch him	P
	-
No I'd not have him there nor nearer the door	A
Where the Man and the Angel have got Sir John Moore	A
And are quietly letting him down through the floor	A
Near Gillespie the one who escaped at Vellore	A
Alone from the row	A
Neither he nor Lord Howe	Q
Would like to be plagued with a little Bow wow	Q
No Tray we must yield	A
And go further a field	A
To lay you by Nelson were downright effront'ry	A
We'll be off from the City and look at the country	A
	-
It shall not be there	A
In that sepulchred square	A
Where folks are interr'd for the sake of the air	A
Though pay but the dues they could hardly refuse	C
To Tray what they grant to Thuggs and Hindoos	C
Turks Infidels Heretics Jumpers and Jews	C
Where the tombstones are placed	A
In the very best taste	A
At the feet and the head	A
Of the elegant Dead	A
And no one's received who's not 'buried in lead '	-
For there lie the bones of Deputy Jones	C
Whom the widow's tears and the orphan's groans	C
Affected as much as they do the stones	C
His executors laid on the Deputy's bones	C
Little rest poor knave	E
Would he have in his grave	E
Since Spirits 'tis plain	K
Are sent back again	K
To roam round their bodies the bad ones in pain	K
Dragging after them sometimes a heavy jack chain	K
Whenever they met alarmed by its groans his	C
Ghost all night long would be barking at Jones's	C
	-
Nor shall he be laid	A
By that cross Old Maid	A
Miss Penelope Bird of whom it is said	A
All the dogs in the Parish were always afraid	A
He must not be placed	A
By one so strait laced	A
In her temper her taste and her morals and waist	A
For 'tis said when she went up to heaven and St Peter	A
Who happened to meet her	A
Came forward to greet her	A
She pursed up with scorn every vinegar feature	A
And bade him 'Get out for a horrid Male Creature '	-
So the Saint after looking as if he could eat her	A
Not knowing perhaps very well how to treat her	A
And not being willing or able to beat her	A
Sent her back to her grave till her temper grew sweeter	A
With an epithet which I decline to repeat here	A
No if Tray were interr'd	A
By Penelope Bird	A
No dog would be e'er so be 'whelp''d and be 'cur'r'd	A
All the night long her cantankerous Sprite	A
Would be running about in the pale moon light	A
Chasing him round and attempting to lick	R
The ghost of poor Tray with the ghost of a stick	R
	-
Stay let me see	C
Ay here it shall be	C
At the root of this gnarl'd and time worn tree	C
Where Tray and I	A
Would often lie	A
And watch the light clouds as they floated by	A
In the broad expanse of the clear blue sky	A
When the sun was bidding the world good b'ye	C
And the plaintive Nightingale warbling nigh	A
Pour'd forth her mournful melody	C
While the tender Wood pigeon's cooing cry	A
Has made me say to myself with a sigh	A
'How nice you would eat with a steak in a pie '	-
	-
Ay here it shall be far far from the view	F
Of the noisy world and its maddening crew	F
Simple and few	F
Tender and true	F
The lines o'er his grave They have some of them too	F
The advantage of being remarkably new	F

Richard Harris Barham

The Cynotaph, Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

About The Cynotaph,

Write your comment about The Cynotaph, poem by Richard Harris Barham

Recent Interactions*

New Poems

Popular Poets