The King's Task Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABACCDEDFGHHEIJIKLMM HNHAAONOPPQQHHQQHHQQ QQQHNHARACECHHNNNNST SUUQVQNRHRNQNQQQPPNQ NCQQHHOWOXNXYZZA2CQ

After the sack of the City when Rome was sunk to a nameA
In the years that the lights were darkened or ever St WilfridB
cameA
Low on the borders of Britain the ancient poets singC
Between the Cliff and the Forest there ruled a Saxon KingC
Stubborn all were his people from cottar to overlordD
Not to be cowed by the cudgel scarce to be schooled by theE
swordD
Quick to turn at their pleasure cruel to cross in their moodF
And set on paths of their choosing as the hogs of Andred's WoodG
Laws they made in the Witan the laws of flaying and fineH
Common loppage and pannage the theft and the track of kineH
Statutes of tun and of market for the fish and the malt and theE
mealI
The tax on the Bramber packhorse and the tax on the HastingsJ
keelI
Over the graves of the Druids and under the wreck of RomeK
Rudely but surely they bedded the plinth of the days to comeL
Behind the feet of the Legions and before the Norseman's ireM
Rudely but greatly begat they the framing of State and ShireM
Rudely but deeply they laboured and their labour stands till nowH
If we trace on our ancient headlands the twist of their eight oxN
ploughH
There came a king from Hamlun by Bosenham he cameA
He filled Use with slaughter and Lewes he gave to flameA
He smote while they sat in the Witan sudden he smote and soreO
That his fleet was gathered at Selsea ere they mustered at Cymen'sN
OreO
Blithe went the Saxons to battle by down and wood and mereP
But thrice the acorns ripened ere the western mark was clearP
Thrice was the beechmast gathered and the Beltane fires burnedQ
Thrice and the beeves were salted thrice ere the host returnedQ
They drove that king from Hamtun by Bosenhame o'erthrownH
Our of Rugnor to Wilton they made his land their ownH
Camps they builded at Gilling at Basing and AlresfordQ
But wrath abode in the Saxons from cottar to overlordQ
Wrath at the weary war game at the foe that snapped and ranH
Wolf wise feigning and flying and wolf wise snatching his manH
Wrath for their spears unready their levies new to the bladeQ
Shame for the helpless sieges and the scornful ambuscadeQ
At hearth and tavern and market wherever the tale was toldQ
Shame and wrath had the Saxons because of their boasts of oldQ
And some would drink and deny it and some would pray andQ
atoneH
But the most part after their anger avouched that the sin wasN
their ownH
Wherefore girding together up to the Witan they cameA
And as they had shouldered their bucklers so did they shoulderR
their blameA
For that was the wont of the Saxons the ancient poets singC
And first they spoke in the Witan and then they spoke to theE
KingC
quot Edward King of the Saxons thou knowest from sire to sonH
quot One is the King and his People in gain and ungain oneH
quot Count we the gain together With doubtings and spread dismaysN
quot We have broken a foolish people but after many daysN
quot Count we the loss together Warlocks hampered our armsN
quot We were tricked as by magic we were turned as by charmsN
quot We went down to the battle and the road was plain to keepS
quot But our angry eyes ever holden and we struck as they strikeT
in sleepS
quot Men new shaken from slumber sweating with eyes a stareU
quot Little blows uncertain dealt on the useless airU
quot Also a vision betrayed us and a lying tale made boldQ
quot That we looked to hold what we had not and to have what weV
did not holdQ
That a shield should give us shelter that a sword should give usN
powerR
A shield snatched up at a venture and a hilt scarce handled anH
hourR
quot That being rich in the open we should be strong in the closeN
quot And the Gods would sell us a cunning for the day that we metQ
our foesN
quot This was the work of wizards but not with our foe they bideQ
quot In our own camp we took them and their names are Sloth andQ
PrideQ
quot Our pride was before the battle our sloth ere we lifted spearP
quot But hid in the heart of the people as the fever hides in the mereP
quot Waiting only the war game the heat of the strife to riseN
quot As the ague fumes round Oxeney when the rotting reed bedQ
driesN
quot But now we are purged of that fever cleansed by the lettingC
of bloodQ
quot Something leaner of body something keener of moodQ
quot And the men new freed from the levies return to the fields againH
quot Matching a hundred battles cottar and lord and thaneH
quot And they talk loud in the temples where the ancient warO
gods areW
quot They thumb and mock and belittle the holy harness of warO
quot They jest at the sacred chariots the robes and the gilded staffX
quot These things fill them with laughter they lean on their spearsN
and laughX
quot The men grown old in the war game hither and thither theyY
rangeZ
quot And scorn and laughter together are sire and dam of changeZ
quot And change may be good or evil but we know not what it willA2
bringC
quot Therefore our King must teach us That is thy task O King quotQ

Rudyard Kipling



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