Laurel · Mary E. Burt · Poems Every Child Should Know

The Burial of Sir John Moore at Corunna

Mary E. Burt (1850–1918) · 1904

anapaestic common measure · ABAB · 32 lines · from Poems Every Child Should Know

Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,As his corse to the rampart we hurried;Not a soldier discharged his farewell shotO’er the grave where our hero we buried.

We buried him darkly at dead of night,The sods with our bayonets turning;By the struggling moonbeam’s misty light,And the lantern dimly burning.

No useless coffin enclosed his breast,Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him;But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,With his martial cloak around him.

Few and short were the prayers we said,And we spoke not a word of sorrow;But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead,And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed,And smoothed down his lonely pillow,That the foe and the stranger would tread o’er his head,And we far away on the billow!

Lightly they’ll talk of the spirit that’s gone,And o’er his cold ashes upbraid him,--But little he’ll reck, if they let him sleep onIn the grave where a Briton has laid him.

But half of our heavy task was doneWhen the clock struck the hour for retiring;And we heard the distant and random gunThat the foe was sullenly firing.

Slowly and sadly we laid him down,From the field of his fame fresh and gory;We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone--But we left him alone with his glory!

Words in this poem

corse n.: A living body or its bulk. [OF. cors, F. corps. See Corpse.]
moonbeam n.: A ray of light from the moon.
dimly adv.: In a dim or obscure manner; not brightly or clearly; with imperfect sight.
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.]
steadfastly adv.: In a steadfast manner; firmly.
bitterly adv.: In a bitter manner.
billow n.: A great wave or surge of the sea or other water, caused usually by violent wind. [Cf. Icel. bylgja billow, Dan. bölge, Sw. bölja; akin to MHG. bulge billow, bag, and to E. bulge. See Bulge.]
upbraid n.: The act of reproaching; contumely.
reck v. t.: To make account of; to care for; to heed; to regard. [AS. reccan, remccan, to care for; akin to OS. rokian, OHG. ruochan, G. geruhen, Icel. rækja, also to E. reckon, rake an implement. See Rake, and cf. Reckon.]
sadly adv.: Wearily; heavily; firmly.
gory a.: Covered with gore or clotted blood. [From Gore.]

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

About this text

The Burial of Sir John Moore at Corunna is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems Every Child Should Know The What-Every-Child-Should-Know-Library, Project Gutenberg ebook #16436; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Mary E. Burt, The Burial of Sir John Moore at Corunna, in Poems Every Child Should Know (1904), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #16436, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/poems-every-child/the-burial-of-sir-john-moore-at-corunna.html, id L25262.

Form and metre

The Burial of Sir John Moore at Corunna is 32 lines in 8 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 7 of its 8 stanzas. The metre is anapaestic common measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 79%).

See other poems in anapaestic 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.

2 ABAB night^A · turning^B · light^A · burning^B
3 ABAB breast^A · him^B · rest^A · him^B
4 ABAB said^A · sorrow^B · dead^A · morrow^B
5 ABAB bed^A · pillow^B · head^A · billow^B
6 ABAB gone^A · him^B · on^A · him^B
7 ABAB done^A · retiring^B · gun^A · firing^B
8 ABAB down^A · gory^B · stone^A · glory^B

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 anapaestic common measure. How this is done.

Line	Syl.	Stress
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,	10	·······/˘·
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;	10	·····/˘·/˘
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot	10	··/˘/···/·
O’er the grave where our hero we buried.	11	····/˘/˘·/˘
We buried him darkly at dead of night,	10	·/˘·/˘····
The sods with our bayonets turning;	10	···/˘/˘·/˘
By the struggling moonbeam’s misty light,	10	··/˘˘/·/˘·
And the lantern dimly burning.	8	··/˘/˘/˘
No useless coffin enclosed his breast,	10	·/˘/˘˘/˘··
Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him;	9	·········
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,	11	·····/˘/˘··
With his martial cloak around him.	8	··/˘····
Few and short were the prayers we said,	8	········
And we spoke not a word of sorrow;	9	·······/˘
But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead,	12	··/·˘·······
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.	10	··/˘˘···/˘
We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed,	10	····/˘·/˘·
And smoothed down his lonely pillow,	9	··˘··/˘/˘
That the foe and the stranger would tread o’er his head,	12	·····/˘·····
And we far away on the billow!	9	···˘/··/˘
Lightly they’ll talk of the spirit that’s gone,	10	/˘····/˘··
And o’er his cold ashes upbraid him,--	9	····/˘/··
But little he’ll reck, if they let him sleep on	11	·/˘········
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.	10	·····/˘···
But half of our heavy task was done	10	···/˘/˘···
When the clock struck the hour for retiring;	11	·····/˘·˘/˘
And we heard the distant and random gun	10	····/˘·/˘·
That the foe was sullenly firing.	9	·······/˘
Slowly and sadly we laid him down,	9	/˘·/˘····
From the field of his fame fresh and gory;	10	········/˘
We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone--	11	···········
But we left him alone with his glory!	10	····˘/··/˘

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