On The Range Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCBCBDBDBEFEFGHGH IJIJKLKL IMIMNONOPDPDQRQRIPIP STSTUVUVWCWC LXLXYZYZA2BA2BWBWBIB 2IB2 HBHBC2BC2BD2E2D2E2F2 JF2JHG2HG2 ACACHH2HH2HI2HI2OJ2O J2K2JK2J LL2LL2HHHH

On Nungar the mists of the morning hung lowA
The beetle browed hills brooded silent and blackB
Not yet warmed to life by the sun's loving glowA
As through the tall tussocks rode young Charlie MacB
What cared he for mists at the dawning of dayC
What cared he that over the valley stern JackB
The Monarch of frost held his pitiless swayC
A bold mountaineer born and bred was young MacB
A galloping son of a galloping sireD
Stiffest fence roughest ground never took him abackB
With his father's cool judgement his dash and his fireD
The pick of Manaro rode young Charlie MacB
And the pick of the stable the mare he bestrodeE
Arab grey built to stay lithe of limb deep of chestF
She seemed to be happy to bear such a loadE
As she tossed the soft forelock that curled on her crestF
They crossed Nungar Creek where its span is but shortG
At its head where together spring two mountain rillsH
When a mob of wild horses sprang up with a snortG
By thunder quoth Mac there's the Lord of the HillsH
Decoyed from her paddock a Murray bred mareI
Had fled to the hills with a warrigal bandJ
A pretty bay foal had been born to her thereI
Whose veins held the very best blood in the landJ
The Lord of the Hills as the bold mountain menK
Whose courage and skill he was wont to defyL
Had named him they yarded him once but since thenK
He held to the saying Once bitten twice shyL
-
The scrubber thus suddenly roused from his lairI
Struck straight for the timber with fear in his heartM
As Charlie rose up in his stirrups the mareI
Sprang forward no need to tell Empress to startM
She laid to the chase just as soon as she feltN
Her rider's skill'd touch light yet firm on the reinO
Stride for stride lengthened wide for the green timber beltN
The fastest half mile ever done on the plainO
They reached the low sallee before he could wheelP
The warrigal mob up they dashed with a stirD
Of low branches and undergrowth Charlie could feelP
His mare catch her breath on the side of the spurD
That steeply slopes up till it meets the bald coneQ
'Twas here on the range that the trouble beganR
For a slip on the sidling a loose rolling stoneQ
And the chase would be done but the bay in the vanR
And the little grey mare were a sure footed pairI
He looked once around as she crept to his heelP
And the swish that he gave his long tale in the airI
Seemed to say Here's a foeman well worthy my steelP
-
They raced to within half a mile of the bluffS
That drops to the river the squadron strung outT
I wonder quoth Mac has the bay had enoughS
But he was not left very much longer in doubtT
For the Lord of the Hills struck a spur for the flatU
And followed it leaving his mob mares and allV
While Empress brave heart she could climb like a catU
Down the stony descent raced with never a fallV
Once down on the level 'twas galloping groundW
For a while Charlie thought he might yard the big bayC
At his uncle's out station but no He wheeled roundW
And down the sharp dip to the Gulf made his wayC
-
Betwixt those twin portals that towering highL
And backwardly sloping in watchfulness liftX
Their smooth grassy summits to the far skyL
The course of the clear Murrumbidgee runs swiftX
No time then to seek where the crossing might beY
It was in at the one side and out where you couldZ
But fear never dwelt in the hearts of those threeY
Who emerged from the shade of the low muzzle woodZ
Once more did the Lord of the Hills strike a lineA2
Up the side of the range and once more he looked backB
So close were they now he could see the sun shineA2
In the bold grey eyes flashing of young Charlie MacB
He saw little Empress stretched out like a houndW
On the trail of its quarry the pick of the packB
With ne'er tiring stride and his heart gave a boundW
As he saw the lithe stockwhip of young Charlie MacB
Showing snaky and black on the neck of the mareI
In three hanging coils with a turn round the wristB2
And he heartily wished himself back in his lairI
'Mid the tall tussocks beaded with chill morning mistB2
-
Then he fancied the straight mountain ashes the gumsH
And the wattles all mocked him and whispered You lackB
The speed to avert cruel capture that comesH
To the warrigal fancied by young Charlie MacB
For he'll yard you and rope you and then you'll be stuckC2
In the crush while his saddle is girthed to your backB
Then out in the open and there you may buckC2
Till you break your bold heart but you'll never throw MacB
The Lord of the Hills at the thought felt the sweatD2
Break over the smooth summer gloss of his hideE2
He spurted his utmost to leave her but yetD2
The Empress crept up to him stride upon strideE2
No need to say Charlie was riding her nowF2
Yet still for all that he had something in handJ
With here a sharp stoop to avoid a low boughF2
Or quick rise and fall as a tree trunk they spannedJ
In his terror the brumby struck down the rough fallsH
T'wards Yiack with fierce disregard for his neckG2
'Tis useless he finds for the mare overhaulsH
Him slowly no timber could keep her in checkG2
-
There's a narrow beat pathway that winds to and froA
Down the deeps of the gully half hid from the dayC
There's a turn in the track where the hop bushes growA
And hide the grey granite that crosses the wayC
While sharp swerves the path round the boulder's broad baseH
And now the last scene in the drama is playedH2
As the Lord of the Hills with the mare in full chaseH
Swept t'wards it but ere his long stride could be stayedH2
With a gathered momentum that gave not a chanceH
Of escape and a shuddering sickening shockI2
He struck on the granite that barred his advanceH
And sobbed out his life a the foot of the rockI2
While Charlie pulled off with a twitch of the reinO
And an answering spring from his surefooted mountJ2
One might say unscathed though a crimsoning stainO
Marked the graze of the granite but that would ne'er countJ2
With Charlie who speedily sprang to the earthK2
To ease the mare's burden his deft fingered handJ
Unslackened her surcingle loosened tight girthK2
And cleansed with a tussock the spurs' ruddy brandJ
-
There he lay by the rock drooping head glazing eyeL
Strong limbs stilled for ever no more would he fearL2
The tread of a horseman no more would he flyL
Through the hills with his harem in rapid careerL2
The pick of the Mountain Mob bays greys or roansH
He proved by his death that the pace 'tis that killsH
And a sun shrunken hide o'er a few whitened bonesH
Marks the last resting place of the Lord of the HillsH

Barcroft Boake



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