Jonah-s Luck Poem Rhyme Scheme

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OUT OF LUCK mate Have a liquor Hang it where s the use complaining	A
Take your fancy I m in funds now I can stand the racket Dan	B
Dump your bluey in the corner camp here for the night it s raining	A
Bet your life I m glad to see you glad to see a Daylesford man	B
Swell Correct Dan Spot the get up and I own this blooming shanty	C
Me the fellows christened Jonah at Jim Crow and Blanket Flat	D
Cause my luck was so infernal you remember me and Canty	C
Rough times those the very memory keeps a chap from getting fat	D
	-
Where d I strike it That s a yarn The fire s a comfort sit up nearer	E
Hoist your heels man take it easy till Kate s ready with the stew	F
Yes I ll tell my little story tain t a long one but it s queerer	E
Than those lies that Tullock pitched us on The Flat in	G
Fancy Phil a parson now He s smug as grease the Reverend Tullock	H
Yes he s big his wife and fam ly are a high and mighty lot	I
Didn t I say his jaw would keep him when he tired of punching mullock	H
Well it has he s made his pile here How d you like your whisky hot	I
	-
Luck Well now I like your cheek Dan You had luck there s no denying	H
I in thirty years had averaged just a wage of twenty bob	J
Why at Alma there I saw men making fortunes without trying	H
While for days I lived on possums and then had to take a job	J
Bah you talk about misfortune my ill luck was always thorough	K
Gold once ran away before me if I chased it for a week	H
I was starved at Tarrangower lived on tick at Maryborough	K
And I fell and broke my thigh bone at the start of Fiery Creek	H
	-
At Avoca Canty left me Jim you know was not a croaker	E
But he jacked the whole arrangement found we couldn t make a do	F
Said he loved me like a brother but twas rough upon a joker	E
When he d got to fight the devil and find luck enough for two	F
Jim was off I didn t blame him seeing what he d had to suffer	E
When Maginnis just beside us panned out fifty to the tub	L
We had pegged out hours before him and had struck another duffer	E
And each store upon the lead my lad had laid us up for grub	L
	-
After that I picked up Barlow but we parted at Dunolly	M
When we d struggled through at Alma Adelaide Lead and Ararat	I
See my luck was hard upon him he contracted melancholy	M
And he hung himself one morning in the shaft at Parrot Flat	D
Ding it No Where gold was getting I was on the job and early	M
Struck some tucker dirt at Armstrong s and just lived at Pleasant Creek	H
Always grafting like a good un never hopeless like or surly	M
Living partly on my earnings Dan but largely on my cheek	H
	-
Good old days they like to call them they were tough old days to many	M
I was through them and they left me still the choice to graft or beg	H
Left me gray and worn and wrinkled aged and stumped without a penny	M
With a chronic rheumatism and this darned old twisted leg	H
Other work That s true in plenty But you know the real old stager	E
Who has followed up the diggings how he hangs on to the pan	B
How he hates to leave the pipeclay Though you mention it I ll wager	E
That you never worked on top until you couldn t help it Dan	B
	-
Years went by On many fields I worked and often missed a meal and	N
Then I found Victoria played out and the yields were very slack	H
So I took a turn up Northward tried Tasmania and New Zealand	N
Dan I worked my passage over and I sneaked the journey back	H
Times were worse I made a cradle and went fossicking old places	O
But the Chows had been before me and had scraped the country bare	P
There was talk of splendid patches mongst the creeks and round the races	O
But twas not my luck to strike them and I think I lived on air	P
	-
Rough That s not the word So help me Dan I hadn t got a stiver	E
When I caved in one fine Sunday found I couldn t lift my head	Q
They removed me and the doctor said I d got rheumatic fever	E
And for seven months I lingered in a ward upon a bed	Q
Came out crippled feeling done up hopeless like and very lonely	M
And dead beat right down to bed rock as I d never felt before	R
Bitter Just Those hopeful years of honest graft had left me only	M
This bent leg and some asylum was the prospect I d in store	R
	-
You ll be knowing how I felt then cleaned out lame completely gravelled	Q
All the friends I d known were scattered widely north and east and west	Q
There seemed nothing there for my sort and no chances if I travelled	Q
No my digging days were over and I had to give it best	Q
Though twas hard I tried to meet it like a man in digger fashion	S
Twasn t good enough I funked it I was fairly on the shelf	K
Cursed my bitter fortune daily and was always in a passion	S
With the Lord sir and with everyone but mostly with myself	K
	-
I was older twenty years then than I am this blessed minute	Q
But I got a job one morning knapping rock at Ballarat	Q
Two and three for two inch metal You may say there s nothing in it	Q
To the man who s been through Eaglehawk and mined at Blanket Flat	Q
Wait you d better let me finish We and ill I bucked in gladly	M
But to get the tools I needed I was forced to pawn my swag	H
I d no hope of golden patches but I needed tucker badly	M
And this job I think just saved me being lumbered on the vag	H
	-
Fortune is a fickle party but in spite of all her failings	T
Don t revile her Dan as I did while you ve still a little rope	U
Well the heap that I was put on was some heavy quartz and tailings	T
That was carted from a local mine I think the Band of Hope	U
Take the lesson that is coming to your heart old man and hug it	Q
For I started on the heap with scarce a soul to call my own	V
And in less than twenty minutes I d raked out a bouncing nugget	Q
Scaling close on ninety ounces and just frosted round with stone	V
	-
How is that for high my hearty Miracle It was by thunder	E
After forty years of following the rushes up and down	W
Getting old and past all prospect and about to knuckle under	E
Struck it lucky knapping metal in the middle of a town	W
Pass the bottle Have another Soon we ll get the word from Kitty	M
She s a daisy cook I tell you Yes the public business pays	X
But my pile was made beforehand made it broking in the city	M
That s the yarn I pitch the neighbours Here s to good old now a days	X

Edward George Dyson

Jonah-s Luck Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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