The Briny Grave Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCCEFEGHFHFFICI CJAJAAKLKMACACC NANAAOAOO| You wonder why so many would be buried in the sea | A |
| In this world of froth and bubble | B |
| But I don t wonder for it seems to me | A |
| That it saves such a lot of trouble | B |
| And there ain t no undertaker | C |
| Oh there ain t no order that your friends can give | D |
| On the quiet to the coffin maker | C |
| To a gimcrack coffin maker | C |
| They make no differ twixt the absentee swell | E |
| And the clerk that cut from a shortage | F |
| Oh there ain t no pauper funer el | E |
| And there ain t no impressive cortege | G |
| It may be a chap from the for ard crowd | H |
| Or a member of the British Peerage | F |
| But they sew his nibs in a canvas shroud | H |
| Just the same as the bloke from the steerage | F |
| As that poor bloke from the steerage | F |
| There ain t no need for a gravedigger there | I |
| For you dig your own grave Lord love yer | C |
| And there ain t no use for a headstone fair | I |
| When the waters close above yer | C |
| The little headstone where they come to weep | J |
| May be right for the land s dry rotters | A |
| But you rest just as sound when you re anchored deep | J |
| With the pigiron at your trotters | A |
| Our fathers had iron at their trotters | A |
| The sea is democratic the wide world round | K |
| And it don t give a hang for no man | L |
| There ain t no Church of England burial ground | K |
| Nor yet there ain t no Roman | M |
| Orthodox and het rodox by wreck strewn cliffs | A |
| At peace in the stormiest weather | C |
| Might bob up and down like two brother stiffs | A |
| And rest in one shark together | C |
| And mix up their bones together | C |
| - | |
| The bare headed skipper is as good any day | N |
| As an authorised shifter of sin is | A |
| And the tear of shipmate is better anyway | N |
| Than the tear of the next of kin is | A |
| It saves your friends and it fills your needs | A |
| It is best when all is reckoned | O |
| And she can t come there in her widder weeds | A |
| With her eyes on a likely second | O |
| And a spot for the likely second | O |
Henry Lawson
(1)
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About The Briny Grave
The Briny Grave is a poem by Henry Lawson. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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