Kitty Mccrae - A Galloping Rhyme Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCC DEDEFF GHGHII JKJLMN OPOPCC NQNQCC IFIFRS TUTUCC VWVWCC IXIXCC YZYZA2A2 JIJICC CB2CB2CC C2LC2LCC BCBCCC D2E2D2E2CC RNSNCC F2G2F2G2CC H2XH2XCC I2J2I2J2II JDJDCC K2L2K2L2CC

The Western sun ere he sought his lairA
Skimm d the treetops and glancing thenceB
Rested awhile on the curling hairA
Of Kitty McCrae by the boundary fenceB
Her eyes looked anxious her cheeks were paleC
For father was two hours late with the mailC
-
Never before had he been so lateD
And Kitty wondered and wished him backE
Leaning athwart the big swing gateD
That opens out on the bridle trackE
A tortuous path that sidled downF
From the single street of a mining townF
-
With her raven curls and her saucy smileG
Brown eyes that glow with a changeful lightH
Tenderly trembling all the whileG
Like a brace of stars on the breast of nightH
Where could you find in the light of dayI
A bonnier lassie than Kitty McCraeI
-
Born in the saddle this girl could rideJ
Like the fearless queen of the silver bowK
And nothing that ever was lapped in hideJ
Could frighten Kitty McCrae I trowL
She would wheel a mob in the hour of needM
If the Devil himself were in the leadN
-
But now in the shadows deepeningO
When the last sun spark had ceas d to burnP
Afar she catches the sullen ringO
Of horse hoofs swinging around the turnP
Then painfully down the narrow trailC
Comes Alex McCrae with the Greytown mailC
-
The fever and ague my girl he saidN
'Twas all I got on that northern tripQ
When it left me then I was well nigh deadN
Has got me fast in its iron gripQ
And I'd rather rot in the nearest gaolC
Than ride to night with the Greytown mailC
-
At Golden Gully they heard to dayI
'Twas a common topic about the townF
That the Mulligan gang were around this wayI
So they wouldn't despatch the gold dust downF
And Brown the manager said he thoughtR
'Twere wise to wait for a strong escortS
-
I rode the leaders the other nagsT
I left with the coach at the Travellers' RestU
Kitty my lass you must take the bagsT
Postboy I reckon's about the bestU
'Tis dark I know but he'll never failC
To take you down with the Greytown mailC
-
It needed no further voice to urgeV
This dutiful daughter to eager hasteW
She donned the habit of rough blue sergeV
That hung in folds from her slender waistW
And Postboy stood by the stockyard railC
While she mounted behind the Greytown mailC
-
Dark points the rest of him iron greyI
Boasting no strain of expensive bloodX
Down steepest hill he could pick his wayI
And never was baulked by a winter floodX
Strong as a lion hard as a nailC
Was the horse that carried the Greytown mailC
-
A nag that really seemed to beY
Fit for a hundred miles at a pushZ
With the old Manaro pedigreeY
By Furious Rising out of The BushZ
Run in when a colt from a mountain mobA2
By Brian O'Flynn and Dusty BobA2
-
And Postboy's bosom was filled with prideJ
As he felt the form of his mistress swayI
In its easy grace to his swinging strideJ
As he dashed along down the narrow wayI
No prettier Mercury I'll go bailC
Than Kitty ere carried a Guv nment mailC
-
Leaving the edge of O'Connor's HillC
They merrily scattered the drops of dewB2
In the spanning of many a tiny rillC
Whose bubbling waters were hid from viewB2
In quick step time to the curlew's wailC
Rode Kitty McCrae with the Greytown mailC
-
Sidling the Range by a narrow pathC2
Where towering mountain ash trees growL
And a slip meant more than an icy bathC2
In the tumbling waters that foamed belowL
Through the white fog filling each silent valeC
Rode Kitty McCrae with the Greytown mailC
-
The forest shadows became less denseB
They fairly flew down the river fallC
As out from the shade of an old brush fenceB
Stepped three armed men with a sudden callC
Sharp and stern came the well known hailC
Stand for we want the Greytown mailC
-
Postboy swerved with a mighty boundD2
As an outlaw clung to his bridle reinE2
A hoof stroke flattened him on the groundD2
With a curse that was half a cry of painE2
While Kitty trembling and rather paleC
Rode for life and the Greytown mailC
-
To save the bags was her only thoughtR
As she bent fore the whistle of angry leadN
That follow d the flash and the sharp reportS
But Oh you cowards was all she saidN
Fast as fast as the leaden hailC
Kitty rode on with the Greytown mailC
-
Safe ah no for a tiny streamF2
On Postboy's coat left its crimson markG2
Still she rode on but t'was in a dreamF2
Through lands where shadows fell drear and darkG2
Like a wounded sea bird before the galeC
Fled Kitty McCrae with the Greytown mailC
-
And ever the crimson life stream dripsH2
For every hoof stroke a drop of bloodX
From feeble fingers the bridle slipsH2
As down the Warrigal Flat they scudX
And just where the Redbank workings lieC
She reels and falls with a feeble cryC
-
The old horse slacken d his racing paceI2
When he found the saddle his only loadJ2
And nervously sniffed at the still pure faceI2
That lay upturned in the dusty roadJ2
Like a gathered rose in the heat of dayI
She droop d and faded Kitty McCraeI
-
Did Postboy stay by the dead girl's sideJ
Not he Relieved of her feather weightD
He woke the echoes with measured strideJ
Galloping up to the postal gateD
Blood dust and sweat from head to tailC
A riderless horse with the Greytown mailC
-
And now a river oak drooping weepsK2
In ceaseless sorrow above the graveL2
On the lush green flat where Kitty sleepsK2
Hush d by the river's lapping waveL2
That ever tells to the trees the taleC
Of how she rode with the Greytown mailC

Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake



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