Gentlemen-Rankers

Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936) · 1889–1896

iambic heptameter · 48 lines · from Verses 1889–1896

To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned,To my brethren in their sorrow overseas,Sings a gentleman of England cleanly bred, machinely crammed,And a trooper of the Empress, if you please.Yea, a trooper of the forces who has run his own six horses,And faith he went the pace and went it blind,And the world was more than kin while he held the ready tin,But to-day the Sergeant's something less than kind.We're poor little lambs who've lost our way,Baa! Baa! Baa!We're little black sheep who've gone astray,Baa--aa--aa!Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree,Damned from here to Eternity,God ha' mercy on such as we,Baa! Yah! Bah!

Oh, it's sweet to sweat through stables, sweet to empty kitchen slops,And it's sweet to hear the tales the troopers tell,To dance with blowzy housemaids at the regimental hopsAnd thrash the cad who says you waltz too well.Yes, it makes you cock-a-hoop to be “Rider” to your troop,And branded with a blasted worsted spur,When you envy, O how keenly, one poor Tommy being cleanlyWho blacks your boots and sometimes calls you “Sir”.

If the home we never write to, and the oaths we never keep,And all we know most distant and most dear,Across the snoring barrack-room return to break our sleep,Can you blame us if we soak ourselves in beer?When the drunken comrade mutters and the great guard-lantern guttersAnd the horror of our fall is written plain,Every secret, self-revealing on the aching white-washed ceiling,Do you wonder that we drug ourselves from pain?

We have done with Hope and Honour, we are lost to Love and Truth,We are dropping down the ladder rung by rung,And the measure of our torment is the measure of our youth.God help us, for we knew the worst too young!Our shame is clean repentance for the crime that brought the sentence,Our pride it is to know no spur of pride,And the Curse of Reuben holds us till an alien turf enfolds usAnd we die, and none can tell Them where we died.We're poor little lambs who've lost our way,Baa! Baa! Baa!We're little black sheep who've gone astray,Baa--aa--aa!Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree,Damned from here to Eternity,God ha' mercy on such as we,Baa! Yah! Bah!

Words in this poem 16
cohort n.
A body of about five or six hundred soldiers; the tenth part of a legion. [L. cohors, prop. an inclosure: cf. F. cohorte. See Court, n.]
damned a.
Sentenced to punishment in a future state; condemned; consigned to perdition.
overseas adv.
Over the sea; abroad. Milton.
cleanly a.
Habitually clean; pure; innocent. [From Clean.]
trooper n.
A soldier in a body of cavalry; a cavalryman; also, the horse of a cavalryman.
went n.
Course; way; path; journey; direction.
blowzy a.
Coarse and ruddy-faced; fat and ruddy; high colored; frowzy.
waltz n.
A dance performed by two persons in circular figures with a whirling motion; also, a piece of music composed in triple measure for this kind of dance. [G. walzer, from walzen to roll, revolve, dance, OHG. walzan to roll; akin to AS. wealtan. See Welter.]
blasted a.
Blighted; withered.
keenly adv.
In a keen manner.
tommy n.
Bread, -- generally a penny roll; the supply of food carried by workmen as their daily allowance.
blacks n.
The name of a kind of in used in copperplate printing, prepared from the charred husks of the grape, and residue of the wine press.
barrack n.
A building for soldiers, especially when in garrison. Commonly in the pl., originally meaning temporary huts, but now usually applied to a permanent structure or set of buildings. [F. baraque, fr. It. baracca (cf. Sp. barraca), from LL. barra bar. See Bar, n.]
aching a.
That aches; continuously painful. See Ache.
honour n.
Esteem due or paid to worth; high estimation; respect; consideration; reverence; veneration; manifestation of respect or reverence. [OE. honor, honour, onour, onur, OF. honor, onor, honur, onur, honour, onour, F. honneur, fr. L. honor, honos.]
rung n.
A floor timber in a ship. [OE. ronge, AS. hrung, a staff, rod, pole; akin to G. runge a short, thick piece of iron or wood, OD. ronghe a prop, support, Icel. röng a rib in a ship, Goth. H]

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

Gentlemen-Rankers is in the public domain. This text is taken from Verses 1889-1896, Project Gutenberg ebook #323; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Rudyard Kipling, Gentlemen-Rankers, in Verses 1889–1896 (1889–1896), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #323, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/kipling-verses/gentlemen-rankers.html, id L16757.

Form and metre

Gentlemen-Rankers is 48 lines in 4 stanzas. 91% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.6 syllables. 7 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 8% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.

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. 1 ABABBC-CDEDEF-F- damnedA · overseasB · crammedA · pleaseB · horsesB · blindC · tin · kindC · wayD · baaE · astrayD · aaE · spreeF · eternity · weF · bah
  2. 2 -A-A-B-B slops · tellA · hops · wellA · troop · spurB · cleanly · sirB
  3. 3 ABAB-C-C keepA · dearB · sleepA · beerB · gutters · plainC · ceiling · painC
  4. 4 ABAB-C-CDEDEF-F- truthA · rungB · youthA · youngB · sentence · prideC · us · diedC · wayD · baaE · astrayD · aaE · spreeF · eternity · weF · bah
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. How this is done.

LineSyl.Stress
To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned,15··/˘······/˘···
To my brethren in their sorrow overseas,11··/˘··/˘/˘/
Sings a gentleman of England cleanly bred, machinely crammed,15··/˘·/˘/˘······
And a trooper of the Empress, if you please.11··/˘··/˘···
Yea, a trooper of the forces who has run his own six horses,16··/˘··/˘······/˘
And faith he went the pace and went it blind,10··········
And the world was more than kin while he held the ready tin,14···········/˘·
But to-day the Sergeant's something less than kind.11····/˘/˘···
We're poor little lambs who've lost our way,9··/˘···/·
Baa! Baa! Baa!3···
We're little black sheep who've gone astray,9·/˘····˘/
Baa--aa--aa!3···
Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree,8/˘/˘····
Damned from here to Eternity,8····˘/˘˘
God ha' mercy on such as we,8··/˘····
Baa! Yah! Bah!3···
Oh, it's sweet to sweat through stables, sweet to empty kitchen slops,15······/˘··/˘/˘·
And it's sweet to hear the tales the troopers tell,11········/˘·
To dance with blowzy housemaids at the regimental hops15···/˘······˘/˘·
And thrash the cad who says you waltz too well.10··········
Yes, it makes you cock-a-hoop to be “Rider” to your troop,13·········/···
And branded with a blasted worsted spur,10·/˘··/˘/˘·
When you envy, O how keenly, one poor Tommy being cleanly15··/˘··/˘··/˘//˘
Who blacks your boots and sometimes calls you “Sir”.10·····˘/···
If the home we never write to, and the oaths we never keep,13····/······/·
And all we know most distant and most dear,10·····/˘···
Across the snoring barrack-room return to break our sleep,14˘/·/˘/˘·˘/··/·
Can you blame us if we soak ourselves in beer?11·······˘/··
When the drunken comrade mutters and the great guard-lantern gutters16··/˘/·/˘····/˘/˘
And the horror of our fall is written plain,11··/˘·/··/˘·
Every secret, self-revealing on the aching white-washed ceiling,16/˘/˘·˘/˘··/˘··/˘
Do you wonder that we drug ourselves from pain?11··/˘···˘/··
We have done with Hope and Honour, we are lost to Love and Truth,15······/˘·······
We are dropping down the ladder rung by rung,11··/˘··/˘···
And the measure of our torment is the measure of our youth.15··/˘·//···/˘·/·
God help us, for we knew the worst too young!10··········
Our shame is clean repentance for the crime that brought the sentence,15/···˘/˘······/˘
Our pride it is to know no spur of pride,10/·········
And the Curse of Reuben holds us till an alien turf enfolds us16····/˘····/˘·˘/·
And we die, and none can tell Them where we died.11···········
We're poor little lambs who've lost our way,9··/˘···/·
Baa! Baa! Baa!3···
We're little black sheep who've gone astray,9·/˘····˘/
Baa--aa--aa!3···
Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree,8/˘/˘····
Damned from here to Eternity,8····˘/˘˘
God ha' mercy on such as we,8··/˘····
Baa! Yah! Bah!3···

The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.

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