Song Of The Old Bullock-driver Poem Rhyme Scheme

Recent Interactions*

This poem was read 19 times,

This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members,

This poem was voted by 0 members.

(* Interactions only in the last 7 days)

New Poems

A Simple Gift Of Clarity
by Michael Mcguire
Ring Of Fire
by N. Khanyile
A Disturbing Dream
by Marlon Pitter
Crab Lice
by Marlon Pitter
Biography Of The Anonymous
by Gilbert Sordebabari
Lost In Search Of A Saved Child
by Michael Mcguire
Dark Lens
by Gilbert Sordebabari
The Ship
by Pieter Sanders
Rose Bush
by Aubrie J Chellman
Between Condemning Bad Acts And Doing Bad Things, Which One Is Worse?
by Marlon Pitter

Popular Poets

1. Emily Dickinson(2415 poems)
2. Madison Julius Cawein(1231 poems)
3. Ella Wheeler Wilcox(1136 poems)
4. William Wordsworth(1016 poems)
5. Robert Burns(986 poems)
6. Edgar Albert Guest(945 poems)
7. Thomas Moore(849 poems)
8. Robert Service(831 poems)

	A
	A
	-
	-
	-
	-
	-
	-
Far back in the days when the blacks used to ramble	B
In long single file neath the evergreen tree	C
The wool teams in season came down from Coonamble	B
And journeyed for weeks on their way to the sea	C
Twas then that our hearts and our sinews were stronger	D
For those were the days when the bushman was bred	E
We journeyed on roads that were rougher and longer	D
Than roads where the feet of our grandchildren tread	E
With mates who have gone to the great Never Never	D
And mates whom I ve not seen for many a day	F
I camped on the banks of the Cudgegong River	D
And yarned at the fire by the old bullock dray	F
I would summon them back from the far Riverina	G
From days that shall be from all others distinct	H
And sing to the sound of an old concertina	G
Their rugged old songs where strange fancies were linked	H
	-
We never were lonely for camping together	D
We yarned and we smoked the long evenings away	F
And little I cared for the signs of the weather	D
When snug in my hammock slung under the dray	F
We rose with the dawn were it ever so chilly	C
When yokes and tarpaulins were covered with frost	I
And toasted the bacon and boiled the black billy	C
Where high on the camp fire the branches were tossed	I
	-
On flats where the air was suggestive of possums	J
And homesteads and fences were hinting of change	K
We saw the faint glimmer of appletree blossoms	J
And far in the distance the blue of the range	K
And here in the rain there was small use in flogging	L
The poor tortured bullocks that tugged at the load	M
When down to the axles the waggons were bogging	L
And traffic was making a marsh of the road	M
	-
Twas hard on the beasts on the terrible pinches	J
Where two teams of bullocks were yoked to a load	M
And tugging and slipping and moving by inches	J
Half way to the summit they clung to the road	M
And then when the last of the pinches was bested	N
You ll surely not say that a glass was a sin	G
The bullocks lay down neath the gum trees and rested	O
The bullockies steered for the bar of the inn	G
	-
Then slowly we crawled by the trees that kept tally	C
Of miles that were passed on the long journey down	G
We saw the wild beauty of Capertee Valley	C
As slowly we rounded the base of the Crown	G
But ah the poor bullocks were cruelly goaded	N
While climbing the hills from the flats and the vales	J
Twas here that the teams were so often unloaded	O
That all knew the meaning of counting your bales	J
	-
And oh but the best paying load that I carried	P
Was one to the run where my sweetheart was nurse	J
We courted awhile and agreed to get married	P
And couple our futures for better or worse	J
And as my old feet grew too weary to drag on	G
The miles of rough metal they met by the way	F
My eldest grew up and I gave him the waggon	G
He s plodding along by the bullocks to day	F

Henry Lawson

Song Of The Old Bullock-driver Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

About Song Of The Old Bullock-driver

Write your comment about Song Of The Old Bullock-driver poem by Henry Lawson

Recent Interactions*

New Poems

Popular Poets