“Snarleyow”
This 'appened in a battle to a batt'ry of the corpsWhich is first among the women an' amazin' first in war;An' what the bloomin' battle was I don't remember now,But Two's off-lead 'e answered to the name o' Snarleyow.Down in the Infantry, nobody cares;Down in the Cavalry, Colonel 'e swears;But down in the lead with the wheel at the flogTurns the bold Bombardier to a little whipped dog!
They was movin' into action, they was needed very sore,To learn a little schoolin' to a native army corps,They 'ad nipped against an uphill, they was tuckin' down the brow,When a tricky, trundlin' roundshot give the knock to Snarleyow.
They cut 'im loose an' left 'im -- 'e was almost tore in two --But he tried to follow after as a well-trained 'orse should do;'E went an' fouled the limber, an' the Driver's Brother squeals:“Pull up, pull up for Snarleyow -- 'is head's between 'is 'eels!”
The Driver 'umped 'is shoulder, for the wheels was goin' round,An' there ain't no “Stop, conductor!” when a batt'ry's changin' ground;Sez 'e: “I broke the beggar in, an' very sad I feels,But I couldn't pull up, not for you -- your 'ead between your 'eels!”
'E 'adn't 'ardly spoke the word, before a droppin' shellA little right the batt'ry an' between the sections fell;An' when the smoke 'ad cleared away, before the limber wheels,There lay the Driver's Brother with 'is 'ead between 'is 'eels.
Then sez the Driver's Brother, an' 'is words was very plain,“For Gawd's own sake get over me, an' put me out o' pain.”They saw 'is wounds was mortial, an' they judged that it was best,So they took an' drove the limber straight across 'is back an' chest.
The Driver 'e give nothin' 'cept a little coughin' grunt,But 'e swung 'is 'orses 'andsome when it came to “Action Front!”An' if one wheel was juicy, you may lay your Monday head'Twas juicier for the niggers when the case begun to spread.
The moril of this story, it is plainly to be seen:You 'avn't got no families when servin' of the Queen --You 'avn't got no brothers, fathers, sisters, wives, or sons --If you want to win your battles take an' work your bloomin' guns!Down in the Infantry, nobody cares;Down in the Cavalry, Colonel 'e swears;But down in the lead with the wheel at the flogTurns the bold Bombardier to a little whipped dog!
Words in this poem
- corps n.
- The human body, whether living or dead. See Corpse, 1. [F., fr. L. corpus body. See Corpse.]
- infantry n.
- A body of children. B. Jonson. [F. infanterie, It. infanteria, fr. infante infant, child, boy servant, foot soldier, fr. L. infans, -antis, child; foot soldiers being formerly the servants and]
- nobody n.
- No person; no one; not anybody. [No, a. + body.]
- uphill adv.
- Upwards on, or as on, a hillside; as, to walk uphill.
- tore n.
- The dead grass that remains on mowing land in winter and spring. Mortimer. [Probably from the root of tear; cf. W. tór a break, cut, tóri to break, cut.]
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- broke v. i.
- To transact business for another. Brome. [See Broker, and cf. Brook.]
- spoke n.
- The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
- drove n.
- A collection of cattle driven, or cattle collected for driving; a number of animals, as oxen, sheep, or swine, driven in a body. [AS. draf, fr. drifan to drive. See Drive.]
- moril n.
- An edible fungus. Same as 1st Morel. [F. morille; cf. OHG. morhila, G. morchel, OHG. morha carrot. See More a root.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
“Snarleyow” 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, “Snarleyow”, in Verses 1889–1896 (1889–1896), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #323, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/kipling-verses/snarleyow.html, id L16749.
Form and metre
“Snarleyow” is 40 lines in 8 stanzas. The rhyme scheme is AABB, complete in 5 of its 8 stanzas. The metre is iambic heptameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 84%). 92% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 13.2 syllables. 12% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic heptameter.
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 AA--BB-- corpsA · warA · now · snarleyow · caresB · swearsB · flog · dog
- 2 AA-- soreA · corpsA · brow · snarleyow
- 3 AABB twoA · doA · squealsB · eelsB
- 4 AABB roundA · groundA · feelsB · eelsB
- 5 AABB shellA · fellA · wheelsB · eelsB
- 6 AABB plainA · painA · bestB · chestB
- 7 AABB gruntA · frontA · headB · spreadB
- 8 AABBCC-- seenA · queenA · sonsB · gunsB · caresC · swearsC · flog · dog
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 iambic heptameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| This 'appened in a battle to a batt'ry of the corps | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| Which is first among the women an' amazin' first in war; | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| An' what the bloomin' battle was I don't remember now, | 14 | ·····/˘···˘/˘· |
| But Two's off-lead 'e answered to the name o' Snarleyow. | 13 | ·····/˘······ |
| Down in the Infantry, nobody cares; | 9 | ···/˘/··· |
| Down in the Cavalry, Colonel 'e swears; | 9 | ···/˘/˘·· |
| But down in the lead with the wheel at the flog | 11 | ··········· |
| Turns the bold Bombardier to a little whipped dog! | 12 | ····˘/··/˘·· |
| They was movin' into action, they was needed very sore, | 15 | ······/˘··/˘/˘· |
| To learn a little schoolin' to a native army corps, | 14 | ···/˘····/˘/˘· |
| They 'ad nipped against an uphill, they was tuckin' down the brow, | 15 | ······//······· |
| When a tricky, trundlin' roundshot give the knock to Snarleyow. | 14 | ··/˘·········· |
| They cut 'im loose an' left 'im -- 'e was almost tore in two -- | 14 | ·········/···· |
| But he tried to follow after as a well-trained 'orse should do; | 15 | ····/˘········· |
| 'E went an' fouled the limber, an' the Driver's Brother squeals: | 13 | ·····/˘··//˘· |
| “Pull up, pull up for Snarleyow -- 'is head's between 'is 'eels!” | 13 | ············· |
| The Driver 'umped 'is shoulder, for the wheels was goin' round, | 13 | ·/··/˘····/˘· |
| An' there ain't no “Stop, conductor!” when a batt'ry's changin' ground; | 15 | ·····˘/˘······· |
| Sez 'e: “I broke the beggar in, an' very sad I feels, | 14 | ·····/˘··/˘··· |
| But I couldn't pull up, not for you -- your 'ead between your 'eels!” | 15 | ··/˘··········· |
| 'E 'adn't 'ardly spoke the word, before a droppin' shell | 13 | ············· |
| A little right the batt'ry an' between the sections fell; | 14 | ·/˘········/˘· |
| An' when the smoke 'ad cleared away, before the limber wheels, | 14 | ······˘/···/˘· |
| There lay the Driver's Brother with 'is 'ead between 'is 'eels. | 13 | ···//˘······· |
| Then sez the Driver's Brother, an' 'is words was very plain, | 13 | ···//˘····/˘· |
| “For Gawd's own sake get over me, an' put me out o' pain.” | 13 | ············· |
| They saw 'is wounds was mortial, an' they judged that it was best, | 14 | ·············· |
| So they took an' drove the limber straight across 'is back an' chest. | 15 | ······/˘·˘/···· |
| The Driver 'e give nothin' 'cept a little coughin' grunt, | 13 | ·/··/˘··/˘··· |
| But 'e swung 'is 'orses 'andsome when it came to “Action Front!” | 15 | ············/˘· |
| An' if one wheel was juicy, you may lay your Monday head | 14 | ·····/˘····/˘· |
| 'Twas juicier for the niggers when the case begun to spread. | 15 | ·˘/˘··/˘···˘/·· |
| The moril of this story, it is plainly to be seen: | 14 | ·/˘··/˘··/˘··· |
| You 'avn't got no families when servin' of the Queen -- | 12 | ····/˘·/˘··· |
| You 'avn't got no brothers, fathers, sisters, wives, or sons -- | 13 | ····/˘/˘/˘··· |
| If you want to win your battles take an' work your bloomin' guns! | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| Down in the Infantry, nobody cares; | 9 | ···/˘/··· |
| Down in the Cavalry, Colonel 'e swears; | 9 | ···/˘/˘·· |
| But down in the lead with the wheel at the flog | 11 | ··········· |
| Turns the bold Bombardier to a little whipped dog! | 12 | ····˘/··/˘·· |
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