Old Town Types No. 25 - Black Peter Myloh Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBAACC DDEEFFGG HHIIJJKK LLMMNNOO| A man was Peter Myloh strong browed and black of face | A |
| Australian Aboriginal son of a dark doomed race | A |
| And even I an urchin then read grief in his soft eye | B |
| Deep grief that came with knowledge for a people who must die | B |
| For he was 'educated ' But he came of no meek race | A |
| Whining 'Gibbit tickpen' mister ' with a shamed averted face | A |
| And he was proud quick with a blow for some fool's sneering slight | C |
| And how I grinned and hugged myself For lordy Could he fight | C |
| - | |
| Old Connors took him as a boy from some wild Murray tribe | D |
| And thought to educate him as a scholar and a scribe | D |
| First at school and then at college 'Twas a venture ill begun | E |
| For Connors soon grew tired of it and left him on the run | E |
| A sort of favoured hanger on whom every breed forsook | F |
| To be the butt of shearers there less than the Chinese cook | F |
| And after he'd half killed a man and seemed hell bound for doom | G |
| 'Twas my father gave him sanctu'ry as handyman and groom | G |
| - | |
| Black Myloh loved my father but the service of a slave | H |
| Was nought beside the hero worship I a stripling gave | H |
| This lithe dark skinned Ulysses with the low soft school bred voice | I |
| And proudly then I would have changed my colour had I choice | I |
| For we were mates as men were mates on some forgotten day | J |
| Ere 'progress' came with all its care and life was mostly play | J |
| He taught me then the wise bush lore learned centuries ago | K |
| By a simple carefree people versed in arts no 'white' may know | K |
| - | |
| I learned how souls 'go walkabout' of dreams that are no dreams | L |
| We ranged the plains the scrub clad hills we fished the gum lined streams | L |
| And much I gained that served me well when from that home I ran | M |
| And chose to act the prodigal and learned to be a man | M |
| And then the white scourge took him Well do I mind my grief | N |
| Fierce childish grief the questionings the shaking of belief | N |
| But that was very long ago yet even now much truth | O |
| I winnow from Black Myloh's lore the real friend of my youth | O |
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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