The Irish Guards Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCDCEDFDGHGHH DIJIKLMNGHGHH KOHOPKPQGHGHH KGRGDDFDSTSTGHGHH

A
-
-
We're not so old in the Army ListB
But we're not so young at our tradeC
For we had the honour at FontenoyD
Of meeting the Guards' BrigadeC
'Twas Lally Dillon Bulkeley ClareE
And Lee that led us thenD
And after a hundred and seventy yearsF
We're fighting for France againD
Old Days The wild geese are flightingG
Head to fhe sform as they faced if beforeH
For where there are Irish there's bound to be fightingG
And when there's no fighting it's Ireland no moreH
Ireland no moreH
-
The fashion's all for khaki nowD
But once through France we wentI
Full dressed in scarlet Army clothJ
The English left at GhentI
They're fighting on our side to dayK
But before they changed their clothesL
The half of Europe knew our fameM
As all of Ireland knowsN
Old Days The wild geese are flyingG
Head to the sform as they faced it beforeH
For where there are Irish there's memory undyingG
And when we forget it is Ireland no moreH
Ireland no moreH
-
From Barry Wood to GouzeaucourtK
From Boyne to Pilkem RidgeO
The ancient days come back no moreH
Than water under the bridgeO
But the bridge it stands and the water runsP
As red as yesterdayK
And the Irish move to the sound of the gunsP
Like salmon to the seaQ
Old Days The wild geese are rangingG
Head to fhe storm as they faced it beforeH
For where there are Irish their hearts are unchangingG
And when they are changed it is Ireland no moreH
Ireland no moreH
-
We're not so old in the Army ListK
But we're not so new in the ringG
For we carried our packs with Marshal SaxeR
When Louis was our KingG
But Douglas Haig's our Marshal nowD
And we're King George's menD
And after one hundred and seventy yearsF
We're fighting for France againD
Ah France And did we stand by youS
When life was made splendid with gifts and rewardsT
Ah France And will we deny youS
In the hour of your agony Mother of SwordsT
Old Days The wild geese are flighingG
Head to the storm as they faced it beforeH
For where there are Irish there's loving and fightingG
And when we stop either it's Ireland no moreH
Ireland no moreH

Rudyard Kipling



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