The Song Of The Soldier-born Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AAA BBB CCC DDD DDD DDD CCC EEE FFF GGG DDD CCC

Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiantA
Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giantA
Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliantA
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Give me to live and love in the old bold fashionB
A soldier's billet at night and a soldier's rationB
A heart that leaps to the fight with a soldier's passionB
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For I hold as a simple faith there's no denyingC
The trade of a soldier's the only trade worth plyingC
The death of a soldier's the only death worth dyingC
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So let me go and leave your safety behind meD
Go to the spaces of hazard where nothing shall bind meD
Go till the word is War and then you will find meD
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Then you will call me and claim me because you will need meD
Cheer me and gird me and into the battle wrath speed meD
And when it's over spurn me and no longer heed meD
-
For guile and a purse gold greased are the arms you carryD
With deeds of paper you fight and with pens you parryD
You call on the hounds of the law your foes to harryD
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You with your Art for its own sake posing and prinkingC
You with your Live and be merry eating and drinkingC
You with your Peace at all hazard from bright blood shrinkingC
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Fools I will tell you now though the red rain pattersE
And a million of men go down it's little it mattersE
There's the Flag upflung to the stars though it streams in tattersE
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There's a glory gold never can buy to yearn and to cry forF
There's a hope that's as old as the sky to suffer and sigh forF
There's a faith that out dazzles the sun to martyr and die forF
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Ah no it's my dream that War will never be endedG
That men will perish like men and valour be splendidG
That the Flag by the sword will be served and honour defendedG
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That the tale of my fights will never be ancient storyD
That though my eye may be dim and my beard be hoaryD
I'll die as a soldier dies on the Field of GloryD
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So give me a strong right arm for a wrong's swift rightingC
Stave of a song on my lips as my sword is smitingC
Death in my boots may be but fighting fightingC

Robert Service



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