The Dublin Fusilier Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCBDAEA EDFGFHAH FFAFB AD IJG KAB DDEDIBBB LAJAMAIA BNFBFFOF A ABLPEP AOOOEFJF BBABEGBG FDGDQBFB OJBJJIJI JJJJJBIB FBBBDAFA| Here's to you Uncle Kruger slaint | A |
| an' slaint galore | B |
| You 're a dacint ould man begorra never | C |
| mind if you are a Boer | B |
| So with heart an' a half ma boucahl we 'll | D |
| drink to your health to night | A |
| For yourself an' your farmer sojers gave us a | E |
| damn good fight | A |
| - | |
| I was dramin' of Kitty Farrell away in the | E |
| Gap o' Dunloe | D |
| When the song of the bugle woke me ringin' | F |
| across Glencoe | G |
| An' once in a while a bullet came pattherin' | F |
| from above | H |
| That tould us the big brown fellows were send | A |
| in' us down their love | H |
| - | |
| 'Twas a kind of an invitation an' written in | F |
| such a han' | F |
| That a Chinaman could n't refuse it not to | A |
| spake of an Irishman | F |
| So the pickets sent back an answer 'We're | B |
| comin' with right good will ' | - |
| Along what they call the kopje tho' to me it | A |
| looked more like a hill | D |
| - | |
| 'Fall in on the left ' sez the captain 'my | I |
| men of the Fusiliers | J |
| You 'll see a great fight this morning like | G |
| you have n't beheld for years ' | - |
| 'Faith captain dear ' sez the sergeant 'you | K |
| can bet your Majuba sword | A |
| If the Dutch is as willin' as we are you never | B |
| spoke truer word ' | - |
| - | |
| So we scrambled among the bushes the bowl | D |
| ders an' rocks an' all | D |
| Like the gauger's men still huntin' on the | E |
| mountains of Donegal | D |
| We doubled an' turned an' twisted the same | I |
| as a hunted hare | B |
| While the big guns peppered each other over | B |
| us in the air | B |
| - | |
| Like steam from the divil's kettle the kopje | L |
| was bilin' hot | A |
| For the breeze of the Dutchman's bullets was | J |
| the only breeze we got | A |
| An' many a fine boy stumbled many a brave | M |
| lad died | A |
| When the Dutchman's message caught him | I |
| there on the mountainside | A |
| - | |
| Little Nelly O'Brien God help her over | B |
| there at ould Ballybay | N |
| Will wait for a transvaal letter till her face an' | F |
| her hair is grey | B |
| For I seen young Crohoore on a stretcher an' | F |
| I knew the poor boy was gone | F |
| When I spoke to the ambulance doctor an' he | O |
| nodded an' then passed on | F |
| - | |
| 'Steady there ' cried the captain 'we must | A |
| halt for a moment here ' | - |
| An' he spoke like a man in trainin' full winded | A |
| an' strong an' clear | B |
| So we threw ourselves down on the kopje | L |
| weary an' tired as death | P |
| Waitin' the captain 's orders waitin' to get a | E |
| breath | P |
| - | |
| It 's strange all the humours an' fancies that | A |
| comes to a man like me | O |
| But the smoke of the battle risin' took me | O |
| across the sea | O |
| It 's the mist of Benbo I 'm seein' an' the | E |
| rock that we 'll capture soon | F |
| Is the rock where I shot the eagle when I was | J |
| a small gosson | F |
| - | |
| I close my eyes for a minute an' hear my poor | B |
| mother say | B |
| 'Patrick avick my darlin' you 're surely not | A |
| goin' away | B |
| To join the red coated sojers ' but the | E |
| blood in me was strong | G |
| If your sire was a Connaught Ranger sure | B |
| where would his son belong | G |
| - | |
| Hark whisht do you hear the music comin' | F |
| up from the camp below | D |
| An odd note or two when the Maxims take | G |
| breath for a second or so | D |
| Liftin' itself on somehow stealin' its way up | Q |
| here | B |
| Knowin' there 's waitin' to hear it many an | F |
| Irish ear | B |
| - | |
| Augh Garryowen you 're the jewel an' we | O |
| charged on the Dutchman's guns | J |
| An' covered the bloody kopje like a Galway | B |
| greyhound runs | J |
| At the top of the hill they met us with faces | J |
| all set and grim | I |
| But they could n't take the bayonet that 's | J |
| the trouble with most of thim | I |
| - | |
| So of course they 'll be praisin' the Royals | J |
| an' men of the Fusiliers | J |
| An' the newspapers help to dry up the widows | J |
| an' orphans' tears | J |
| An' they 'll write a new name on the colors | J |
| that is if there 's room for more | B |
| An' we 'll follow them thro' the battle the same | I |
| as we 've done before | B |
| - | |
| But here 's to you Uncle Kruger slaint an' | F |
| slaint galore | B |
| After all you 're a dacint Christian never | B |
| mind if you are a Boer | B |
| So with heart an' a half ma boucahl we 'll | D |
| drink to your health to night | A |
| For yourself an' your brown faced Dutchmen | F |
| gave us a damn good fight | A |
William Henry Drummond
(1)
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About The Dublin Fusilier
The Dublin Fusilier is a poem by William Henry Drummond. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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