Banjo Paterson

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A Voice From The Town Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABACADEFEFGHGH IJKJEGEG LGLGAMAMIGKGGGGG NONOPCPD NQNQNNNN GGGGARAR AGAGGGGG

I thought in the days of the drovingA
Of steps I might hope to retraceB
To be done with the bush and the rovingA
And settle once more in my placeB
With a heart that was well nigh to breakingA
In the long lonely rides on the plainC
I thought of the pleasure of takingA
The hand of a lady againD
I am back into civilizationE
Once more in the stir and the strifeF
But the old joys have lost their sensationE
The light has gone out of my lifeF
The men of my time they have marriedG
Made fortunes or gone to the wallH
Too long from the scene I have tarriedG
And somehow I'm out of it allH
-
For I go to the balls and the racesI
A lonely companionless elfJ
And the ladies bestow all their gracesK
On others less grey than myselfJ
While the talk goes around I'm a dumb oneE
'Midst youngsters that chatter and prateG
And they call me The Man who was SomeoneE
Way back in the year Sixty eightG
-
And I look sour and old at the dancersL
That swing to the strains of the bandG
And the ladies all give me the LancersL
No waltzes I quite understandG
For matrons intent upon matchingA
Their daughters with infinite pushM
Would scarce think him worthy the catchingA
The broken down man from the bushM
New partners have come and new facesI
And I of the bygone brigadeG
Sharply feel that oblivion my place isK
I must lie with the rest in the shadeG
And the youngsters fresh featured and pleasantG
They live as we lived fairly fastG
But I doubt if the men of the presentG
Are as good as the men of the pastG
-
Of excitement and praise they are charyN
There is nothing much good upon earthO
Their watchword is nil admirariN
They are bored from the days of their birthO
Where the life that we led was a revelP
They wince and relent and refrainC
I could show them the road to the devilP
Were I only a youngster againD
-
I could show them the road where the stumps areN
The pleasures that end in remorseQ
And the game where the Devil's three trumps areN
The woman the card and the horseQ
Shall the blind lead the blind shall the sowerN
Of wind read the storm as of yoreN
Though they get to their goal somewhat slowerN
They march where we hurried beforeN
-
For the world never learns just as we didG
They gallantly go to their fateG
Unheeded all warnings unheededG
The maxims of elders sedateG
As the husbandman patiently toilingA
Draws a harvest each year from the soilR
So the fools grow afresh for the spoilingA
And a new crop of thieves for the spoilR
-
But a truce to this dull moralizingA
Let them drink while the drops are of goldG
I have tasted the dregs 'twere surprisingA
Were the new wine to me like the oldG
And I weary for lack of employmentG
In idleness day after dayG
For the key to the door of enjoymentG
Is Youth and I've thrown it awayG

Banjo Paterson



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