Possum A Lay Of New Chumland Poem Rhyme Scheme

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SO YER trav lin for yer pleasure while yer writin for the press	A
An yer huntin arter copy well I ve heer d o that I guess	A
You are gorn ter write a story that is gorn ter be yer best	B
Bout the blunders an advenchers ov a new chum in the west	B
An you would be very thankful an acknowledge any hint	C
Well I karn t say as I hankers fur ter see my name in print	C
But I know a little story an I ll tell it out ov hand	D
If yer ll put it down in writin that the swells kin understand	D
It s a story ov a new chum and a story ov the land	D
	-
	-
He had lately kum from Ingland you cud tell it by s cap	E
Fur kerlonial exper ence an he got it too poor chap	E
Twas in town he met the squatter an he asked as if in fun	F
If the boss ud want a flunkey or a coachy on the run	F
Well it riz the boss s dander an he jumps clean orf is oss	G
Now me fresh sweet scented beauty watyer giv nus sez the boss	H
I hev met yer kidney often an yer mighty fresh an free	I
But yer needn t think yer gorn ter come a lardin over me	I
	-
	-
But the new chum sed that onest he was lookin for a job	J
An in spite of his appearance he had blued is bottom bob	J
An as beggars karn t be choosers same as people wot are rich	K
Said he d go as stoo rd or gard ner but he warn t partickler which	K
Well the joker seemed in earnest so the boss began ter cool	L
An he only blanked the new chum for a thund rin jumpt up fool	L
Then he sed Well there s the fencin if yer ll tramp it up from Perth	M
The boys ll find yer su thin p r aps an giv yer wat yer worth	M
	-
	-
Ov course the squatter never thort ter see im any more	N
But he wa n t the kind ov new chum that the squatter tuk im for	N
No he wa n t the kind er cockeroach that on y kums ter shirk	O
That wants ter git the sugar but is fri tened ov the work	O
For he sold is watch n jool ry n lardi dardy suits	P
Stuck a swag upon his shoulder n is feet in blucher boots	P
An I dunno how he did it he was anythin but strong	Q
But he umped his bluey ninety mile an kum to Bunglelong	Q
	-
He earnt is pound and tucker borin holes an runnin wire	R
An he d work from dawn to sunset an he never seemed to tire	R
But he must have suffered orful from the tucker an the heat	S
An the everlastin trampin made im tender in the feet	S
An he must hev thort ov England w en the everlastin flies	T
Ware a worrit worrit worrit an a knawin at is eyes	T
An he used to swear like thunder w en the yaller sergeant ants	U
Took a mornin stroll promiscus on the inside ov is pants	U
	-
He uster make is damper six or seven inches thick	Q
It was doughey on the inside an the shell was like a brick	Q
An while the damper made im dream ov days ov long ago	Q
The little boodie rats ud kum an nibble out the dough	Q
He biled is taters soggy an is junk was biled to rags	V
The little boodie rats ud kum an chew s tucker bags	V
But he took is troubles cheerful an he fixed em like a pome	I
An writ em in his darey to amuse the folks at home	I
	-
At first he flashed a coller an was keerful with is hat	W
An he d black is boots ov Sundays but he soon grew out of that	W
An he lernt ter bake is damper an he leant to bile is junk	Q
An sleep without a getting up all night ter shake is bunk	Q
He soon got out ov takin shorter cuts across the flats	X
An he learnt to fling ole bottles to the sorror of the rats	X
An learnt to sling kerlonial and like the bushman s way	Y
An it did us good to see im smoke is nigger in a clay	Y
	-
He would sing an play is fiddle when we gathered round the blaze	Z
Till ole Frenchy got excited while he d play the Mascylays	Z
An Bill ud take is hat off while he d spout the Light Brigade	A2
An Scotchy got oneasy when the Bony Ills was played	A2
So we got ter like the new chum for we d met with many wuss	Z
An we made it easy for im an he seemed to take to us	Z
The toilin an the trampin was a cookin im we found	B2
So we made im cook an stoo rd just ter keep the chap around	B2
	-
Well the months went bakin broilin on until Christmas nex	Z
When we tramped it down to Perth to spend our ollyday and cheques	Z
But Possum sed he d save is tin an stay and mind the camp	C2
So we left im in possession an we started on our tramp	C2
We useter call im Possum but for short we called im Poss	Z
For is eyes was black an twinklin and a little chap he was	Z
We never would have left im if we d know d but that s the ru	D2
Comin back we found im dyin in is gunyah in the scrub	E2
	-
We fixed im up an nursed im but we seen without a doubt	F2
That consumption was the matter an the chap was peggin out	F2
But the lion heart inside im was as strong an stout as six	Z
An while he d smile an thank us he would joke about is fix	Z
An he said twas very jolly to be dry nursed in a tent	G2
An he reckoned that the Christmas was the best he d ever spent	G2
He would talk of ome and Inglan when is head began ter swim	I
But he never blamed the country that had been so ard on him	I
	-
He would say I like the country if a feller s blind er halt	H2
Or if he s got konsumption why it ain t the country s fault	H2
The tea that s boil d in billies is far sweeter stuff I know	Q
Than the cursed drink w at blasted all my chances long ago	Q
I would hev cum out sooner if it was my destiny	I
An I daresay that the country would have made a man ov me	I
But w at s the good ov energy an wat s the good er push	I2
W en a feller s sick an dyin in a gunyah in the bush	I2
	-
But he tole me all about it as I sat beside is bunk	Q
How he d spent is tin in Melbourne an was allers gettin drunk	Q
How he thort he d take it easy while he had a little gold	J2
And before he turned the new leaf how he scribbled on the old	J2
An among a lot ov nonsense w en is mind began to drift	K2
He told me that the new leaf was a heavy leaf to lift	K2
But w ats the good er writin this it s nothin very new	D2
The land will see enough ov it an suffer for it too	D2
An he said w en he was dying when his lung was spit away	Y
An we all was standin round im in the gunyah where he lay	Y
An he said I ve watched the sunset when the wind began to woosh	I2
Like a layer ov coals a glowin on the dark bed ov the bush	I2
An I felt my fingers slippin slippin slowly from the ropes	Z
Wen the West was cold like ashes like the ashes of my hopes	Z
An I Sit beside me Peter let me old a bushman s hand	D
For I m gorn to ump my bluey through the gates ov Newchumland	D

Henry Lawson

Possum A Lay Of New Chumland Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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