Milking Time Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABACCBC DEFEGGBG HHIHJJKJ KKBKLLBL MMNMGGOG O G| There's a drip of honeysuckle in the deep green lane | A |
| There's old Martin jogging homeward on his worn old wain | A |
| There are cherry petals falling and a cuckoo calling calling | B |
| And a score of larks God bless 'em but it's all pain pain | A |
| For you see I am not really there at all not at all | C |
| For you see I'm in the trenches where the crump crumps fall | C |
| And the bits o' shells are screaming and it's only blessed dreaming | B |
| That in fancy I am seeming back in old Saint Pol | C |
| - | |
| Oh I've thought of it so often since I've come down here | D |
| And I never dreamt that any place could be so dear | E |
| The silvered whinstone houses and the rosy men in blouses | F |
| And the kindly white capped women with their eyes spring clear | E |
| And mother's sitting knitting where her roses climb | G |
| And the angelus is calling with a soft soft chime | G |
| And the sea wind comes caressing and the light's a golden blessing | B |
| And Yvonne Yvonne is guessing that it's milking time | G |
| - | |
| Oh it's Sunday for she's wearing of her broidered gown | H |
| And she draws the pasture pickets and the cows come down | H |
| And their feet are powdered yellow and their voices honey mellow | I |
| And they bring a scent of clover and their eyes are brown | H |
| And Yvonne is dreaming after but her eyes are blue | J |
| And her lips are made for laughter and her white teeth too | J |
| And her mouth is like a cherry and a dimple mocking merry | K |
| Is lurking in the very cheek she turns to you | J |
| - | |
| So I walk beside her kindly and she laughs at me | K |
| And I heap her arms with lilac from the lilac tree | K |
| And a golden light is welling and a golden peace is dwelling | B |
| And a thousand birds are telling how it's good to be | K |
| And what are pouting lips for if they can't be kissed | L |
| And I've filled her arms with blossom so she can't resist | L |
| And the cows are sadly straying and her mother must be saying | B |
| That Yvonne is long delaying God How close that missed | L |
| - | |
| A nice polite reminder that the Boche are nigh | M |
| That we're here to fight like devils and if need be die | M |
| That from kissing pretty wenches to the frantic firing benches | N |
| Of the battered tattered trenches is a far far cry | M |
| Yet still I'm sitting dreaming in the glare and grime | G |
| And once again I'm hearing of them church bells chime | G |
| And how I wonder whether in the golden summer weather | O |
| We will fetch the cows together when it's milking time | G |
| - | |
| English voice months later | O |
| - | |
| Ow Bill A rottin' Frenchy Whew 'E ain't 'arf prime | G |
Robert Service
(1)
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