Wounded Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCDEFEFGG HIHIJKJKLMLMNN OPQPJRJRSBSBTUTUVWVW XYXYHZHZA2MA2MB2C2C2 C2D2E2D2E2F2G2F2G2C2 H2C2H2UI2UI2J2K2J2K2 C2C2 A2D2A2D2L2AL2AC2M2C2 M2N2N2 C2O2C2O2P2Q2R2Q2S2T2 S2T2AAT2A| Is it not strange A year ago to day | A |
| With scarce a thought beyond the hum drum round | B |
| I did my decent job and earned my pay | A |
| Was averagely happy I'll be bound | B |
| Ay in my little groove I was content | C |
| Seeing my life run smoothly to the end | D |
| With prosy days in stolid labour spent | C |
| And jolly nights a pipe a glass a friend | D |
| In God's good time a hearth fire's cosy gleam | E |
| A wife and kids and all a fellow needs | F |
| When presto like a bubble goes my dream | E |
| I leap upon the Stage of Splendid Deeds | F |
| I yell with rage I wallow deep in gore | G |
| I that was clerk in a drysalter's store | G |
| - | |
| Stranger than any book I've ever read | H |
| Here on the reeking battlefield I lie | I |
| Under the stars propped up with smeary dead | H |
| Like too if no one takes me in to die | I |
| Hit on the arms legs liver lungs and gall | J |
| Damn glad there's nothing more of me to hit | K |
| But calm and feeling never pain at all | J |
| And full of wonder at the turn of it | K |
| For of the dead around me three are mine | L |
| Three foemen vanquished in the whirl of fight | M |
| So if I die I have no right to whine | L |
| I feel I've done my little bit all right | M |
| I don't know how but there the beggars are | N |
| As dead as herrings pickled in a jar | N |
| - | |
| And here am I worse wounded than I thought | O |
| For in the fight a bullet bee like stings | P |
| You never heed the air is metal hot | Q |
| And all alive with little flicking wings | P |
| But on you charge You see the fellows fall | J |
| Your pal was by your side fair fighting mad | R |
| You turn to him and lo no pal at all | J |
| You wonder vaguely if he's copped it bad | R |
| But on you charge The heavens vomit death | S |
| And vicious death is besoming the ground | B |
| You're blind with sweat you're dazed and out of breath | S |
| And though you yell you cannot hear a sound | B |
| But on you charge Oh War's a rousing game | T |
| Around you smoky clouds like ogres tower | U |
| The earth is rowelled deep with spurs of flame | T |
| And on your helmet stones and ashes shower | U |
| But on you charge It's odd You have no fear | V |
| Machine gun bullets whip and lash your path | W |
| Red yellow black the smoky giants rear | V |
| The shrapnel rips the heavens roar in wrath | W |
| But on you charge Barbed wire all trampled down | X |
| The ground all gored and rent as by a blast | Y |
| Grim heaps of grey where once were heaps of brown | X |
| A ragged ditch the Hun first line at last | Y |
| All smashed to hell Their second right ahead | H |
| So on you charge There's nothing else to do | Z |
| More reeking holes blood barbed wire gruesome dead | H |
| Your puttee strap's undone that worries you | Z |
| You glare around You think you're all alone | A2 |
| But no your chums come surging left and right | M |
| The nearest chap flops down without a groan | A2 |
| His face still snarling with the rage of fight | M |
| Ha here's the second trench just like the first | B2 |
| Only a little more so more laid out | C2 |
| More pounded flame corroded death accurst | C2 |
| A pretty piece of work beyond a doubt | C2 |
| Now for the third and there your job is done | D2 |
| So on you charge You never stop to think | E2 |
| Your cursed puttee's trailing as you run | D2 |
| You feel you'd sell your soul to have a drink | E2 |
| The acrid air is full of cracking whips | F2 |
| You wonder how it is you're going still | G2 |
| You foam with rage Oh God to be at grips | F2 |
| With someone you can rush and crush and kill | G2 |
| Your sleeve is dripping blood you're seeing red | C2 |
| You're battle mad your turn is coming now | H2 |
| See there's the jagged barbed wire straight ahead | C2 |
| And there's the trench you'll get there anyhow | H2 |
| Your puttee catches on a strand of wire | U |
| And down you go perhaps it saves your life | I2 |
| For over sandbag rims you see 'em fire | U |
| Crop headed chaps their eyes ablaze with strife | I2 |
| You crawl you cower then once again you plunge | J2 |
| With all your comrades roaring at your heels | K2 |
| Have at 'em lads You stab you jab you lunge | J2 |
| A blaze of glory then the red world reels | K2 |
| A crash of triumph then you're faint a bit | C2 |
| That cursed puttee Now to fasten it | C2 |
| - | |
| Well that's the charge And now I'm here alone | A2 |
| I've built a little wall of Hun on Hun | D2 |
| To shield me from the leaden bees that drone | A2 |
| It saves me worry and it hurts 'em none | D2 |
| The only thing I'm wondering is when | L2 |
| Some stretcher men will stroll along my way | A |
| It isn't much that's left of me but then | L2 |
| Where life is hope is so at least they say | A |
| Well if I'm spared I'll be the happy lad | C2 |
| I tell you I won't envy any king | M2 |
| I've stood the racket and I'm proud and glad | C2 |
| I've had my crowning hour Oh War's the thing | M2 |
| It gives us common working chaps our chance | N2 |
| A taste of glory chivalry romance | N2 |
| - | |
| Ay War they say is hell it's heaven too | C2 |
| It lets a man discover what he's worth | O2 |
| It takes his measure shows what he can do | C2 |
| Gives him a joy like nothing else on earth | O2 |
| It fans in him a flame that otherwise | P2 |
| Would flicker out these drab discordant days | Q2 |
| It teaches him in pain and sacrifice | R2 |
| Faith fortitude grim courage past all praise | Q2 |
| Yes War is good So here beside my slain | S2 |
| A happy wreck I wait amid the din | T2 |
| For even if I perish mine's the gain | S2 |
| Hi there you fellows won't you take me in | T2 |
| Give me a fag to smoke upon the way | A |
| We've taken La Boiselle The hell you say | A |
| Well that would make a corpse sit up and grin | T2 |
| Lead on I'll live to fight another day | A |
Robert Service
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
About Wounded
Wounded is a poem by Robert Service. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
Write your comment about Wounded poem by Robert Service
Best Poems of Robert Service
