A Ballad of ’Ninety-Eight
The soul of the fair young man sprang upFrom the earth where his body lay,And he was aware of a grim dark soulCompanioning his way.
“Who are you, brother?” the fair soul said;“We wing together still!”And the soul replied, that was swart and red,“The spirit of him who shot you deadBy the blockhouse on the hill.
“Your men and you on the crest were first,And the last foe left was I;In the crackle of rifles I dropped and cursed,Lightning-struck as the cheer outburstAnd the hot charge panted nigh.
“You saw me writhe at the side of the trench:You bade--I know not what:With one last gnash, with one last wrench,I sped my last, sure shot.
“The thing that lies on the sodden groundLike a wrack of the whirlwind’s track,Your men have made of the body of me,--But they could not call you back!
“In that black game I won, I won!But had you worked your will,Speak now the shame that you would have doneBy the blockhouse on the hill!”
“God judge my men!” said the fair young soul;“He knows you tried them sore.Had He given me power to bide an hourI had wrought that they forbore.
“I bade them, ere your bullet broughtThis swift, this sweet release,To bear your body out of the fireThat you might pass in peace.”
Said the grim dark soul, “Farewell, farewell,Farewell ’twixt you and me,Till they set red Judas loose from hellTo kneel at the Lord Christ’s knee!”
“Not so, not so,” said the fair young soul,“But reach me out your hand:We two will kneel at the Lord Christ’s knee,And He that was hanged on the cruel treeWill remember and understand.
“We two will pray at the Lord Christ’s kneeThat never on earth againThe breath of the hot brute guns shall cloudThe sight in the eyes of men!”
The clean stars came into the sky;The perfect night was still;Yet rose to heaven the old blood-cry,By the blockhouse on the hill.
Words in this poem
- cursed a.
- Deserving a curse; execrable; hateful; detestable; abominable.
- outburst n.
- A bursting forth.
- bade
- A form of the pat tense of Bid.
- gnash v. t.
- To strike together, as in anger or pain; as, to gnash the teeth. [OE. gnasten, gnaisten, cf. Icel. gnastan a gnashing, gn to gnash, Dan.knaske, Sw. gnissla, D. knarsen, G. knirschen.]
- wrench n.
- Trick; deceit; fraud; stratagem. [OE. wrench deceit, AS. wrenc deceit, a twisting; akin to G. rank intrigue, crookedness, renken to bend, twist, and E. wring. Wring, and cf. Ranch, v. t.]
- wrack n.
- Wreck; ruin; destruction. [OE. wrak wreck. See Wreck.]
- bide v. i.
- To dwell; to inhabit; to abide; to stay. [OE. biden, AS. bidan; akin to OHG. bitan, Goth. beidan, Icel. bi; perh. orig., to wait with trust, and akin to bid. See Bid, v. t., and cf. Abide.]
- kneel v. i.
- To bend the knee; to fall or rest on the knees; -- sometimes with down. [OE. knelen, cneolien; akin to D. knielen, Dan. knæle. See Knee.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Ballad of ’Ninety-Eight is in the public domain. This text is taken from A chant of love for England, and other poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #71425; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Helen Gray Cone, A Ballad of ’Ninety-Eight, in A Chant of Love for England, and Other Poems (1915), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #71425, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/cone-chant-for-england/a-ballad-of-ninety-eight.html, id L22049.
Form and metre
A Ballad of ’Ninety-Eight is 51 lines in 12 stanzas. The commonest rhyme scheme is ABAB, in 3 of the 12 stanzas; the rest vary or could not be confirmed. The metre is common measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 77%).
See other poems in common measure.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -A-A up · layA · soul · wayA
- 2 ABAAB saidA · stillB · redA · deadA · hillB
- 3 ABAAB firstA · iB · cursedA · outburstA · nighB
- 4 A-A- trenchA · what · wrenchA · shot
- 5 -A-A ground · trackA · me · backA
- 6 ABAB wonA · willB · doneA · hillB
- 7 -A-A soul · soreA · hour · forboreA
- 8 -A-A brought · releaseA · fire · peaceA
- 9 ABAB farewellA · meB · hellA · kneeB
- 10 -ABBA soul · handA · kneeB · treeB · understandA
- 11 -A-A knee · againA · cloud · menA
- 12 ABAB skyA · stillB · cryA · hillB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against common measure. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| The soul of the fair young man sprang up | 9 | ········· |
| From the earth where his body lay, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And he was aware of a grim dark soul | 10 | ···˘/····· |
| Companioning his way. | 6 | ˘/˘˘·· |
| “Who are you, brother?” the fair soul said; | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| “We wing together still!” | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| And the soul replied, that was swart and red, | 10 | ···˘/····· |
| “The spirit of him who shot you dead | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| By the blockhouse on the hill. | 7 | ··/···· |
| “Your men and you on the crest were first, | 9 | ········· |
| And the last foe left was I; | 7 | ······· |
| In the crackle of rifles I dropped and cursed, | 11 | ··/˘·/˘···· |
| Lightning-struck as the cheer outburst | 8 | /˘····/· |
| And the hot charge panted nigh. | 7 | ····/˘· |
| “You saw me writhe at the side of the trench: | 10 | ·········· |
| You bade--I know not what: | 6 | ······ |
| With one last gnash, with one last wrench, | 8 | ········ |
| I sped my last, sure shot. | 6 | ······ |
| “The thing that lies on the sodden ground | 9 | ······/˘· |
| Like a wrack of the whirlwind’s track, | 8 | ·····/·· |
| Your men have made of the body of me,-- | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| But they could not call you back! | 7 | ······· |
| “In that black game I won, I won! | 8 | ········ |
| But had you worked your will, | 6 | ······ |
| Speak now the shame that you would have done | 9 | ········· |
| By the blockhouse on the hill!” | 7 | ··/···· |
| “God judge my men!” said the fair young soul; | 9 | ········· |
| “He knows you tried them sore. | 6 | ······ |
| Had He given me power to bide an hour | 11 | ··/·/˘···/˘ |
| I had wrought that they forbore. | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| “I bade them, ere your bullet brought | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| This swift, this sweet release, | 6 | ····˘/ |
| To bear your body out of the fire | 10 | ···/˘···/˘ |
| That you might pass in peace.” | 6 | ······ |
| Said the grim dark soul, “Farewell, farewell, | 9 | ······/·/ |
| Farewell ’twixt you and me, | 6 | ·/···· |
| Till they set red Judas loose from hell | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| To kneel at the Lord Christ’s knee!” | 7 | ······· |
| “Not so, not so,” said the fair young soul, | 9 | ········· |
| “But reach me out your hand: | 6 | ······ |
| We two will kneel at the Lord Christ’s knee, | 9 | ········· |
| And He that was hanged on the cruel tree | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Will remember and understand. | 8 | ·˘/˘··˘/ |
| “We two will pray at the Lord Christ’s knee | 9 | ········· |
| That never on earth again | 7 | ·/˘··˘/ |
| The breath of the hot brute guns shall cloud | 9 | ········· |
| The sight in the eyes of men!” | 7 | ······· |
| The clean stars came into the sky; | 8 | ········ |
| The perfect night was still; | 6 | ·˘/··· |
| Yet rose to heaven the old blood-cry, | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| By the blockhouse on the hill. | 7 | ··/···· |
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