The Tin-pot Mill Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCBADAD EEDD AFAFAGAG HIJIKLKM NOKONPNP QAQARSRS QTQTQUQU EEDDQuite a proud and happy man is Finn the Packer | A |
Since he built his crazy mill upon the rise | B |
And he stands there in the gully chewing 'backer ' | C |
With a sleepy sort of comfort in his eyes | B |
Gazin' up to where the antiquated jigger | A |
Is a wheezing and a hopping on the hill | D |
For up here my lord the Gov'nor isn't bigger | A |
Than the owner of the Federation Mill | D |
- | |
She goes biff puff bang bump cutter clatter smash | E |
And she rattles on for half a shift and lets up with a crash | E |
And then silence reigns a little while and all the land is still | D |
While they're tinkering awkward patches on the tin pot mill | D |
- | |
It's a five head plant and mostly built of lumber | A |
'Twas erected by a man that didn't know | F |
And we've never had a decent spell of slumber | A |
Since that battery of Finn's was got to go | F |
For she raises just the most infernal clatter | A |
And we guessed the Day of Judgment had come down | G |
When the tin pot mill began to bang and batter | A |
Like an earthquake in a boiler metal town | G |
- | |
All the heads are different sizes and the horses | H |
Are so crazy that the whole caboodle rocks | I |
And each time a stamper thunders down it forces | J |
Little spirtings through the crannies in the box | I |
Then the feed pipe's mostly plugged and aggravating | K |
And the pump it suffers badly from a cough | L |
Every hour or so they burst a blooming grating | K |
And the shoes are nearly always coming off | M |
- | |
Mickey drives her with a portable a ruin | N |
That they used for donkeying cargo in the Ark | O |
When she's got a little way on and is doing | K |
You should hear that spavined coffee grinder bark | O |
She is loose in all her joints and through corrosion | N |
Half her plates are not a sixteenth in the thick | P |
We're expecting a sensational explosion | N |
And a subsequent excursion after Mick | P |
- | |
From the feed which chokes to quite the smallest ripple | Q |
From the bed logs to the guides she's mighty queer | A |
And she joggles like an agitated cripple | Q |
With St Vitus dance intensified by beer | A |
She stops short and starts with most unearthly rumbles | R |
And distracted by the silence and the din | S |
Through the sleepless night the weary miner grumbles | R |
And heaps curses on the family of Finn | S |
- | |
But the owner's much too cute a man to wrangle | Q |
He is crushing for the public understand | T |
And each ton of stuff that's hammered through the mangle | Q |
Adds its tribute to the value of his land | T |
For she leaks the raw amalgam and he's able | Q |
To see daylight 'twixt the ripples an' the plates | U |
And below the box and 'neath the shaking table | Q |
There are nest eggs 'cumulating while he waits | U |
- | |
She goes biff puff bang bump clitter clatter smash | E |
And she rattles on for half a shift and lets with a crash | E |
Then silence reigns a little while and the land is still | D |
While they're tinkering awkward patches on the tin pot mill | D |
Edward Dyson
(1)
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