-the Rank Stench Of Those Bodies Haunts Me Stillâ? Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRST UVWXYZFA2B2RHC2D2E2F 2D2G2H2I2J2K2L2M2D2P N2O2E2P2Q2R2S2T2U2D2 V2| r things I'd best forget | A |
| For now we've marched to a green trenchless land | B |
| Twelve miles from battering guns along the grass | C |
| Brown lines of tents are hives for snoring men | D |
| Wide radiant water sways the floating sky | E |
| Below dark shivering trees And living clean | F |
| Comes back with thoughts of home and hours of sleep | G |
| To night I smell the battle miles away | H |
| Gun thunder leaps and thuds along the ridge | I |
| The spouting shells dig pits in fields of death | J |
| And wounded men are moaning in the woods | K |
| If any friend be there whom I have loved | L |
| God speed him safe to England with a gash | M |
| It's sundown in the camp some youngster laughs | N |
| Lifting his mug and drinking health to all | O |
| Who come unscathed from that unpitying waste | P |
| Terror and ruin lurk behind his gaze | Q |
| Another sits with tranquil musing face | R |
| Puffing bis pipe and dreaming of the girl | S |
| Whose last scrawled letter lies upon his knee | T |
| The sunlight falls low ruddy from the west | U |
| Upon their heads Last week they might have died | V |
| And now they stretch their limbs in tired content | W |
| One says 'The bloody Bosche has got the knock | X |
| 'And soon they'll crumple up and chuck their games | Y |
| 'We've got the beggars on the run at last ' | Z |
| Then I remembered someone that I'd seen | F |
| Dead in a squalid miserable ditch | A2 |
| Heedless of toiling feet that trod him down | B2 |
| He was a Prussian with a decent face | R |
| Young fresh and pleasant so dare to say | H |
| No doubt he loathed the war and longed for peace | C2 |
| And cursed our souls because we'd killed bis friends | D2 |
| One night he yawned along a haIf dug trench | E2 |
| Midnight and then the British guns began | F2 |
| With heavy shrapnel bursting low and 'hows' | D2 |
| Whistling to cut the wire with blinding din | G2 |
| He didn't move the digging still went on | H2 |
| Men stooped and shovelled someone gave a grunt | I2 |
| And moaned and died with agony in the sludge | J2 |
| Then the long hiss of shells lifted and stopped | K2 |
| He stared into the gloom a rocket curved | L2 |
| And rifles rattled angrily on the left | M2 |
| Down by the wood and there was noise of bombs | D2 |
| Then the damned English loomed in scrambling haste | P |
| Out of the dark and struggled through the wire | N2 |
| And there were shouts and eurses someone screamed | O2 |
| And men began to blunder down the trench | E2 |
| Without their rifles It was time to go | P2 |
| He grabbed his coat stood up gulping some bread | Q2 |
| Then clutched his head and fell | R2 |
| I found him there | S2 |
| In the gray morning when the place was held | T2 |
| His face was in the mud one arm flung out | U2 |
| As when he crumpled up his sturdy legs | D2 |
| Were bent beneath bis trunk heels to the skye | V2 |
Siegfried Sassoon
(1)
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