Ruth Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDD DDDD BBDD DDDDEEFG HHDD IIFF JJKK LLMM NDOOCCBB PPQQ DDRR SSDD DDTT NNUU LLTT DDBB DDDD TTVVDDMM WWXX DDSS YYRR TTZD

All is well in a prison to night and the warders are crying All s WellA
I must speak for the sake of my heart if it s but to the walls of my cellA
For what does it matter to me if to morrow I go where I willB
I m as free as I ever shall be there is naught in my life to fulfilB
I am free I am haunted no more by the question that tortured my brainC
Are you sane of a people gone mad or mad in a world that is saneC
I have had time to rest and to pray and my reason no longer is vextD
By the spirit that hangs you one day and would hail you as martyr the nextD
-
Are the fields of my fancy less fair through a window that s narrowed and barredD
Are the morning stars dimmed by the glare of the gas light that flares in the yardD
No And what does it matter to me if to morrow I sail from the landD
I am free as I never was free I exult in my loneliness grandD
-
Be a saint and a saviour of men be a Christ and they ll slander and railB
Only Crime s understood in the world and a man is respected in gaolB
But I find in my raving a balm in the worst that has come to the worstD
Let me think of it all I grow calm let me think it all out from the firstD
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Beyond the horizon of Self do the walls of my prison retreatD
And I stand in a gap of the hills with the scene of my life at my feetD
The range to the west and the Peak and the marsh where the dark ridges endD
And the spurs running down to the Creek and the she oaks that sigh in the bendD
The hints of the river below and away on the azure and greenE
The old goldfield of Specimen Flat and the township a blotch on the sceneE
The store the hotels and the bank and the gaol and the people who comeF
With the weatherboard box and the tank the Australian idea of homeG
-
The scribe spirit broken the wreck in his might have been or shameH
The townsman respected or worthy the workman respectful and tameH
The boss of the pub with his fine sense of honour grown moral and stoutD
Like the spielers who came with the line on the cheques that were made farther outD
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The clever young churchman despised by the swaggering popular manI
The doctor with hands clasped behind and bowed head as if under a banI
The one man with the brains with the power to lead unsuspected and dumbF
Whom Fate sets apart for the Hour the man for the hour that might comeF
-
The old local liar whose story was ancient when Egypt was youngJ
And the gossip who hangs on the fence and poisons God s world with her tongueJ
The haggard bush mother who d nag though a husband or child be divineK
And who takes a fierce joy in a rag of the clothes on the newcomer s lineK
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And a lad with a cloud on his heart who was lost in a world vague and dimL
No one dreamed as he drifted apart that twas genius the matter with himL
Who was doomed in that ignorant hole to its spiritless level to sinkM
Till the iron had entered his soul and his brain found a refuge in drinkM
-
Perhaps I was bitter because of the tongues of disgrace in the townN
Of a boy nature misunderstood and its nobler ambitions sneeredD
Of the sense of injustice that stings till it ends in the creed of the pushO
I was born in that shadow that clings to the old gully homes in the bushO
And I was ambitious Perhaps as a boy I could see things too plainC
How I wished I could write of the truths of the visions that haunted my brainC
Of the bush buried toiler denied e en the last loving comforts of allB
Of my father who slaved till he died in the scrub by his wedges and maulB
-
Twenty years and from daylight till dark twenty years it was split fence and grubP
And the end was a tumble down hut and a bare dusty patch in the scrubP
Twas the first time he d rested they said but the knit in his forehead was deepQ
And to me the scarred hands of the dead seemed to work as I d seen them in sleepQ
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And the mother who toiled by his side through hardship and trouble and droughtD
And who fought for the home when he died till her heart not her spirit wore outD
I am shamed for Australia and haunted by the face of the haggard bush wifeR
She who fights her grim battle undaunted because she knows nothing of lifeR
-
By the barren track travelled by few men poor victims of commerce unknownS
E en the troubles that woman tells woman she suffers unpitied aloneS
Heart dumbed and mind dulled and benighted Eve s beauty in girlhood destroyedD
Till the wrongs never felt shall be righted and the peace never missed be enjoyedD
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There was no one to understand me I was lonely and shy as a ladD
Or I lived in a world that was wider than ours so of course I was madD
Who is not understood is a crank so I suffered the tortures of menT
Doomed to think in the bush till I drank and went wrong I grew popular thenT
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There was Doctor Lebenski my friend and the friend too of all who were downN
Clever gloomy and generous drunkard the pride and disgrace of the townN
He had been through the glory and shame of a wild life by city and seaU
And the tales of the land whence he came had a strong fascination for meU
-
And often in yarning or fancy when she oaks grew misty and dimL
From the forest and straight for the camp of the Cossack I ve ridden with himL
Ridden out in the dusk with a score ridden back ere the dawning with tenT
Have struck at three kingdoms and Fate for the fair land of Poland againT
-
He d a sorrow that drink couldn t drown that his great heart was powerless to fightD
And I gathered the threads twixt the long pregnant puffs of his last pipe at nightD
For he d say to me sadly Jack Drew then he d pause as to watch the smoke curlB
If a good girl should love you be true though you die for it true to the girlB
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A man may be false to his country a man may be false to his friendD
Be a vagabond drunkard a spieler yet his soul may come right in the endD
But there is no prayer no atonement no drink that can banish the shadeD
From your side if you ve one spark of manhood of a dead girl that you have betrayedD
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One chance for a fortune we re told in the lives of the poorest of menT
There s a chance for a heaven on earth that comes over and over againT
Twas for Ruth the bank manager s niece that the wretched old goldfield grew fairV
And she came like an angel of peace in an hour of revengeful despairV
A girl as God made her and wise in a faith that was never estrangedD
From childhood neglected and wronged she had grown with her nature unchangedD
And she came as an angel of Hope as I crouched on Eternity s brinkM
And the loaded revolver and rope were parts of the horrors of drinkM
-
I was not to be trusted they said within sight of a cheque or a horseW
And the worst that was said of my name all the gossips were glad to endorseW
But she loved me she loved me And why Ask the she oaks that sighed in the bendsX
We had suffered alike she and I from the blindness of kinsfolk and friendsX
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A girlhood of hardship and care for she gave the great heart of a childD
To a brother whose idol was Self and a brother good natured but wildD
And a father who left her behind when he d suffered too much from the moanS
Of a mother grown selfish and blind in her trouble twas always her ownS
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She was brave and she never complained for the hardships of youth that had drivenY
My soul to the brink of perdition but strengthened the girl s faith in HeavenY
In the home that her relatives gave she was tortured each hour of her lifeR
By her cruel dependence the slave of her aunt the bank manager s wifeR
-
Does the world know how easy to lead and how hard to be driven are menT
She was leading me back with her love to the faith of my childhood againT
To my boyhood s neglected ideal to the hopes that were strangled at birthZ
To the good and the truth of the real toD

Henry Lawson



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