The Secret Whisky Cure Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Tis no tale of heroism tis no tale of storm and strife	A
But of ordinary boozing and of dull domestic life	A
Of the everlasting friction that most husbands must endure	B
Tale of nagging and of drinking and a secret whisky cure	B
Name of Jones perhaps you know him small house agent here in town	C
Friend of Smith you know him also likewise Robinson and Brown	C
Just a hopeless little husband whose deep sorrows were obscure	B
And a bitter nagging Missis and death seemed the only cure	B
	-
Twas a common sordid marriage and there s little new to tell	D
Save the pub to him was Heaven and his own home was a hell	D
With the office in between them purgatory to be sure	B
And as far as Jones could make out well there wasn t any cure	B
	-
Twas drink and nag or nag and drink whichever you prefer	E
Till at last she couldn t stand him any more than he could her	E
Friends and relatives assisted telling her with motives pure	B
That a legal separation was the only earthly cure	B
	-
So she went and saw a lawyer who in accents soft and low	F
Asked her firstly if her husband had a bank account or no	F
But he hadn t and she hadn t they in fact were very poor	G
So he bowed her out suggesting she should try some liquor cure	B
	-
She saw a drink cure advertised in the Sydney Bulletin	H
Cure for brandy cure for whisky cure for rum and beer and gin	I
And it could be given secret it was tasteless swift and sure	B
So she purchased half a gallon of that Secret Whisky Cure	B
	-
And she put some in his coffee smiling sweetly all the while	J
And he started for the office rather puzzled by the smile	J
Smile or frown he d have a whisky and you ll say he was a boor	B
But perhaps his wife had given him an overdose of Cure	B
	-
And he met a friend he hadn t seen for seven years or more	K
It was just upon the threshold of a private bar room door	K
And they coalised and entered straight away you may be sure	B
But of course they hadn t reckoned with a Secret Whisky Cure	B
	-
Jones he drank turned pale and gasping hurried out the back way quick	L
Where to his old chum s amazement he was violently sick	L
Then they interviewed the landlord but he swore the drink was pure	B
It was only the beginning of the Secret Whisky Cure	B
	-
For Jones couldn t stand the smell of even special whisky blends	M
And shunned bar rooms to the sorrow of his trusty drinking friends	M
And they wondered too what evil genius had chanced to lure	B
Him from paths of booze and friendship never dreaming of a Cure	B
	-
	-
He had noticed too with terror that a something turned his feet	N
When a pub was near and swung him to the other side the street	N
Till he thought the devils had him and his person they d immure	B
In a lunatic asylum where there wasn t any Cure	B
	-
He consulted several doctors who were puzzled by the case	O
As they mostly are but never tell the patient to his face	O
Some advised him Try the Mountains for this malady obscure	B
But there wasn t one could diagnose a Secret Whisky Cure	B
	-
And his wife when he was sober Well she nagged him all the more	B
And he couldn t drown his sorrow in the pewter as of yore	B
So he shot himself at Manly and was sat upon by Woore	B
And found rest amongst the spirits from the Secret Whisky Cure	B
	-
	-
And the moral well tis funny or tis woman s way with men	P
She s remarried to a publican who whacks her now and then	P
And they get on fairly happy he s a brute and he s a boor	B
But she s never tried her second with a Secret Whisky Cure	B

Henry Lawson

The Secret Whisky Cure Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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