Afternoon Tea Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDAAEF GGHHIIJJKL MMBDNNOOPPQQ RRSSTTUUVVBBWW XXYYZMA2A2B2C2D2D2E2 E2 F2F2AAWWBBKKG2G2D2D2 H2H2RRI2I2| As I was saying No thank you I never take cream with my tea | A |
| Cows weren't allowed in the trenches got out of the habit y'see | A |
| As I was saying our Colonel leaped up like a youngster of ten | B |
| Come on lads he shouts and we'll show 'em and he sprang to the head of the men | B |
| Then some bally thing seemed to trip him and he fell on his face with a slam | C |
| Oh he died like a true British soldier and the last word he uttered was Damn | C |
| And hang it I loved the old fellow and something just burst in my brain | D |
| And I cared no more for the bullets than I would for a shower of rain | D |
| 'Twas an awf'ly funny sensation I say this is jolly nice tea | A |
| I felt as if something had broken by gad I was suddenly free | A |
| Free for a glorified moment beyond regulations and laws | E |
| Free just to wallow in slaughter as the chap of the Stone Age was | F |
| - | |
| So on I went joyously nursing a Berserker rage of my own | G |
| And though all my chaps were behind me feeling most frightf'ly alone | G |
| With the bullets and shells ding donging and the krock and the swish of the shrap | H |
| And I found myself humming Ben Bolt Will you pass me the sugar old chap | H |
| Two lumps please What was I saying Oh yes the jolly old dash | I |
| We simply ripped through the barrage and on with a roar and a crash | I |
| My fellows Old Nick couldn't stop 'em On on they went with a yell | J |
| Till they tripped on the Boches' sand bags nothing much left to tell | J |
| A trench so tattered and battered that even a rat couldn't live | K |
| Some corpses tangled and mangled wire you could pass through a sieve | L |
| - | |
| The jolly old guns had bilked us cheated us out of our show | M |
| And my fellows were simply yearning for a red mix up with the foe | M |
| So I shouted to them to follow and on we went roaring again | B |
| Battle tuned and exultant on in the leaden rain | D |
| Then all at once a machine gun barks from a bit of a bank | N |
| And our Major roars in a fury We've got to take it on flank | N |
| He was running like fire to lead us when down like a stone he comes | O |
| As full of typewriter bullets as a pudding is full of plums | O |
| So I took his job and we got 'em By gad we got 'em like rats | P |
| Down in a deep shell crater we fought like Kilkenny cats | P |
| 'Twas pleasant just for a moment to be sheltered and out of range | Q |
| With someone you saw to go for it made an agreeable change | Q |
| - | |
| And the Boches that missed my bullets my chaps gave a bayonet jolt | R |
| And all the time I remember I whistled and hummed Ben Bolt | R |
| Well that little job was over so hell for leather we ran | S |
| On to the second line trenches that's where the fun began | S |
| For though we had strafed 'em like fury there still were some Boches about | T |
| And my fellows teeth set and eyes glaring like terriers routed 'em out | T |
| Then I stumbled on one of their dug outs and I shouted Is anyone there | U |
| And a voice Yes one but I'm wounded came faint up the narrow stair | U |
| And my man was descending before me when sudden a cry a shot | V |
| I say this cake is delicious You make it yourself do you not | V |
| My man Oh they killed the poor devil for if there was one there was ten | B |
| So after I'd bombed 'em sufficient I went down at the head of my men | B |
| And four tried to sneak from a bunk hole but we cornered the rotters all right | W |
| I'd rather not go into details 'twas messy that bit of the fight | W |
| - | |
| But all of it's beastly messy let's talk of pleasanter things | X |
| The skirts that the girls are wearing ridiculous fluffy things | X |
| So short that they show Oh hang it Well if I must I must | Y |
| We cleaned out the second trench line bomb and bayonet thrust | Y |
| And on we went to the third one quite calloused to crumping by now | Z |
| And some of our fellows who'd passed us were making a deuce of a row | M |
| And my chaps well I just couldn't hold 'em It's strange how it is with gore | A2 |
| In some ways it's just like whiskey if you taste it you must have more | A2 |
| Their eyes were like beacons of battle by gad sir they COULDN'T be calmed | B2 |
| So I headed 'em bang for the bomb belt racing like billy be damned | C2 |
| Oh it didn't take long to arrive there those who arrived at all | D2 |
| The machine guns were certainly chronic the shindy enough to appal | D2 |
| Oh yes I omitted to tell you I'd wounds on the chest and the head | E2 |
| And my shirt was torn to a gun rag and my face blood gummy and red | E2 |
| - | |
| I'm thinking I looked like a madman I fancy I felt one too | F2 |
| Half naked and swinging a rifle God what a glorious do | F2 |
| As I sit here in old Piccadilly sipping my afternoon tea | A |
| I see a blind bullet chipped devil and it's hard to believe that it's me | A |
| I see a wild war damaged demon smashing out left and right | W |
| And humming Ben Bolt rather loudly and hugely enjoying the fight | W |
| And as for my men may God bless 'em I've loved 'em ever since then | B |
| They fought like the shining angels they're the pick o' the land my men | B |
| And the trench was a reeking shambles not a Boche to be seen alive | K |
| So I thought but on rounding a traverse I came on a covey of five | K |
| And four of 'em threw up their flippers but the fifth chap a sergeant was game | G2 |
| And though I'd a bomb and revolver he came at me just the same | G2 |
| A sporty thing that I tell you I just couldn't blow him to hell | D2 |
| So I swung to the point of his jaw bone and down like a ninepin he fell | D2 |
| And then when I'd brought him to reason he wasn't half bad that Hun | H2 |
| He bandaged my head and my short rib as well as the Doc could have done | H2 |
| So back I went with my Boches as gay as a two year old colt | R |
| And it suddenly struck me as rummy I still was a humming Ben Bolt | R |
| And now by Jove how I've bored you You've just let me babble away | I2 |
| Let's talk of the things that matter your car or the newest play | I2 |
Robert Service
(1)
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