Et Dona Ferentes Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABB CCDD EEFF GGHH BBFF IIJ KIFF LLFF MMFF NOO FFFF| In extended observation of the ways and works of man | A |
| From the Four mile Radius roughly to the Plains of Hindustan | A |
| I have drunk with mixed assemblies seen the racial ruction rise | B |
| And the men of half Creation damning half Creation's eyes | B |
| - | |
| I have watched them in their tantrums all that Pentecostal crew | C |
| French Italian Arab Spaniard Dutch and Greek and Russ and Jew | C |
| Celt and savage buff and ochre cream and yellow mauve and white | D |
| But it never really mattered till the English grew polite | D |
| - | |
| Till the men with polished toppers till the men in long frock coats | E |
| Till the men who do not duel till the men who war with votes | E |
| Till the breed that take their pleasures as Saint Lawrence took his grid | F |
| Began to 'beg your pardon' and the knowing croupier hid | F |
| - | |
| Then the bandsmen with their fiddles and the girls that bring the beer | G |
| Felt the psychological moment left the lit Casino clear | G |
| But the uninstructed alien from the Teuton to the Gaul | H |
| Was entrapped once more my country by that suave deceptive drawl | H |
| - | |
| As it was in ancient Suez or 'neath wilder milder skies | B |
| I 'observe with apprehension' how the racial ructions rise | B |
| And with keener apprehension if I read the times aright | F |
| Hear the old Casino order 'Watch your man but be polite | F |
| - | |
| Keep your temper Never answer that was why they spat and swore | I |
| Don't hit first but move together there's no hurry to the door | I |
| Back to back and facing outward while the linguist tells 'em how | J |
| Nous sommes allong ar notre batteau nous ne voulong pas un row '' | - |
| - | |
| So the hard pent rage ate inward till some idiot went too far | K |
| 'Let 'em have it ' and they had it and the same was merry war | I |
| Fist umbrella cane decanter lamp and beer mug chair and boot | F |
| Till behind the fleeing legions rose the long hoarse yell for loot | F |
| - | |
| Then the oil cloth with its numbers like a banner fluttered free | L |
| Then the grand piano cantered on three castors down the quay | L |
| White and breathing through their nostrils silent systematic swift | F |
| They removed effaced abolished all that man could heave or lift | F |
| - | |
| Oh my country bless the training that from cot to castle runs | M |
| The pitfall of the stranger but the bulwark of thy sons | M |
| Measured speech and ordered action sluggish soul and un perturbed | F |
| Till we wake our Island Devil nowise cool for being curbed | F |
| - | |
| When the heir of all the ages 'has the honour to remain ' | - |
| When he will not hear an insult though men make it ne'er so plain | N |
| When his lips are schooled to meekness when his back is bowed to blows | O |
| Well the keen aas vogels know it well the waiting jackal knows | O |
| - | |
| Build on the flanks of Etna where the sullen smoke puffs float | F |
| Or bathe in tropic waters where the lean fin dogs the boat | F |
| Cock the gun that is not loaded cook the frozen dynamite | F |
| But oh beware my Country when my Country grows polite | F |
Rudyard Kipling
(1)
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