That Half-crown Sweep Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis


The run of Billabong go dryA
Is just beyond Lime Burner's GapB
Its waterhole and tank supplyA
Is excellent upon the mapB
But lacking nature's liquid drenchC
The station staff are wont to tryA
With Bob in Sweeps their thirst to quenchC
Or nearly quench at Bong go dryA
The parson made five yearly roundsD
That soil of arid souls to delveE
He wrote I'll come for seven poundsD
Or I could stop away for twelveE
But lack of lucre brought aboutF
The pusillanimous replyA
Our luxuries are all cut outF
You'll have to go to Bong go dryA
Now rabbit skins were very highA
There'd been a kind of rabbit rushG
And what with traps and sticks they'd shyA
The station blacks were very flushG
And each was taught his churchman's jobH
When that one parson's plate comes roun'I
No good you put in sprat or bobH
Too quick you put in harp a crownI
The parson's word was duly keptJ
He came and did his bit of speakK
The boss remarked he hadn't sleptJ
So sound and well for many a weekK
But Gilgai Jack and Monkey JawL
Regarded preaching as a crimeM
Against good taste they said What forN
That one chap yabber all the timeM
Proceedings ceased the boss's hatO
Was raked from underneath his chairP
The coloured congregation satO
And waited with expectant airP
At last from one far distant seatQ
Where Gilgai's Mary'd been asleepR
There came a kind of plaintive bleatQ
Say boss Who won the harp crown sweepR

Banjo Paterson


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