Analysis of A Holy War
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis 1876 (Auburn) – 1938 (Melbourne)
'Young friend!' . . . I tries to duck, but miss the bus.
'E sees me first, an' 'as me by the 'and.
'Young friend!' 'e sez; an' starts to make a fuss
At meetin' me. 'Why, this,' 'e sez, 'is grand!
Events is workin' better than I planned.
It's Providence that I should meet you thus.
You're jist the man,' 'e sez, 'to make a stand,
An' strive for us.
'Young friend,' 'e sez, 'allow me to explain
But wot 'e 'as to say too well I knows.
I got the stren'th uv it in Spadgers Lane
Not 'arf an hour before'and, when I goes
To see if I could pick up news uv Rose,
After that dentist let me off the chain.
('Painless,' 'e's labelled. So 'e is, I s'pose.
I 'ad the pain.)
'Young friend,' 'e sez. I let 'im 'ave 'is say;
Though I'm already wise to all 'e said
The queer old parson, with 'is gentle way
('E tied Doreen an' me when we was wed)
I likes 'im, from 'is ole soft, snowy 'ead
Down to 'is boots. 'E ain't the sort to pray
When folks needs bread.
Yeh'd think that 'e was simple as a child;
An' so 'e is, some ways; but, by and by,
While 'e is talkin' churchy-like an' mild,
Yeh catch a tiny twinkle in 'is eye
Which gives the office that 'e's pretty fly
To cunnin' lurks. 'E ain't to be beguiled
With fairy tales. An' when I've seen 'em try
'E's only smiled.
'Young friend,' 'e sez, 'I am beset by foes.
The Church,' 'e sez, 'is in a quandary.'
An' then 'e takes an' spills out all 'is woes,
An' 'ints that this 'ere job is up to me.
'Yer aid - per'aps yer strong right arm,' sez 'e,
'Is needed if we are to rescue Rose
From wot base schemes an' wot iniquity
Gawd only knows.'
This is the sorry tale. Rose, sick, an' low
In funds an' frien's, an' far too proud to beg,
Is gittin' sorely tempted fer to go
Into the spielin' trade by one Spike Wegg.
I knoo this Spike uv old; a reel bad egg,
'0o's easy livin' is to git in tow
Some country mug, an' pull 'is little leg
Fer all 'is dough.
A crooked crook is Spike amongst the crooks,
A rat, 'oo'd come the double on 'is friends;
Flash in 'is ways, but innercint in looks
Which 'e works well fer 'is un'oly ends.
'It's 'ard to know,' sez Snowy, 'why Fate sends
Sich men among us, or why justice brooks
Their evil ways, which they but seldom mends
Except in books.
'Young friend,' 'e sez, 'You're known in Spadgers Lane.
You know their ways. We must seek out this man.
With 'er, pray'r an' persuasion 'ave been vain.
I've pleaded, but she's bound to 'is vile plan.
I'd 'ave you treat 'im gently, if you can;
But if you can't, well - I need not explain.'
('E twinkles 'ere) 'I'm growin' partisan;
I must refrain.'
'Do you mean stoush?' I sez. 'Fer if yeh do
I warn yeh that a scrap might put me queer.'
'Young friend,' sez 'e, 'I leave the means to you.
Far be it from the Church to interfere
With noble works.' But I sez, 'Now, look 'ere,
I got a wife at 'ome; you know 'er, too.
Ther's certin things I never could make clear
If once she knoo.
'I got a wife,' I sez, 'an' loves 'er well,
Like I loves peace an' quite. An' if I goes
Down into Spadgers, raisin' merry 'ell,
Breakin' the peace an' things account uv Rose,
Where that might land me goodness only knows.
'Ow women sees these things no man can tell.
I've done with stoush,' I sez. ''Ard knocks an' blows
'Ave took a spell.
'I've done with stoush,' I sez. But in some place
Deep in me 'eart a voice begun to sing;
A lurin' little voice, with motives base…
It's ten long years since I was in a ring,
Ten years since I gave that left 'ook a swing.
Ten weary years since I pushed in a face;
An' 'ere's a chance to 'ave a little fling
With no disgrace.
'Stoush? Stoush, young friend?' 'e sez. 'Where 'ave I 'eard
That term? I gather it refers to strife.
But there,' 'e sez, 'why quarrel with a word?
As you 'ave said, indeed, I know yer wife;
An' should she 'ear you went where vice is rife
To battle fer the right - But it's absurd
To look fer gallantry in modrin life.
It's a rare bird.
'Young friend,' 'e sez. An' quicker than a wink
'Is twinklin' eyes grew sudden very grave.
'Young friend,' 'e sez, 'I know jist wot yeh think
Uv 'ow us parsons blather an' be'ave.
But I 'ave 'ere a woman's soul to save
A lonely woman, tremblin' on the brink
Uv black perdition, blacker than the grave.
An' she must sink.
'Yes, she must sink,' 'e sez. 'For I 'ave done
All that a man uv my poor parts can do.
An' I 'ave failed! There was not anyone
That I could turn to, ti
Scheme | ABACCACA DEDEEDED FGFGBFG HIHIIHIH EJEJJEJE KLKLLKLK MNMNNMAM DODOODPD QRQRXQRD SESEESES TUTUUTUT BVWVVWVW XYXFYXYX PQPJ |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1111111101 1111111100 1111111101 111111111 011110111 1100111111 1101111101 1111 1111011101 1111111111 110111011 11110010111 1111111111 1011011101 10110111111 1101 1111111111 1101011111 0111011101 1101111111 1111111101 1111110111 1111 1111110101 1111111101 111101111 1101010011 1101011101 111111101 1101111111 1101 1111110111 0111100100 1111111111 1111111111 111111111 1101111101 1111110100 1101 1101011111 0111111111 111010111 010111111 1111110111 110111101 1101111101 1111 0101110101 0111010111 10111101 11111111 1111110111 1101111101 1101111101 0101 111111011 1111111111 10111010111 1101111111 1111110111 1111111101 110111100 1101 1111111111 1111011111 1111110111 111101101 1101111111 1101111101 111110111 1111 1101111101 1111111111 101110101 101110111 1111110101 1101111111 1111111111 1101 1111111011 1011010111 011011101 1111111001 1111111101 1101111001 1101110101 1101 1111111111 1111010111 1111110101 1111011111 1111111111 1101011101 111100011 1011 1111110101 111110101 1111111111 1111010111 1111010111 010101101 11110101 1111 1111111111 1101111111 111111110 111111 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 4,288 |
Words | 897 |
Sentences | 71 |
Stanzas | 14 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 4 |
Lines Amount | 107 |
Letters per line (avg) | 29 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 221 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 63 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 4:32 min read
- 95 Views
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"A Holy War" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Mar. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/6144/a-holy-war>.
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