The Teams Poem Rhyme Scheme

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A cloud of dust on the long white road	A
And the teams go creeping on	B
Inch by inch with the weary load	A
And by the power of the green hide goad	A
The distant goal is won	C
	-
With eyes half shut to the blinding dust	D
And necks to the yokes bent low	E
The beasts are pulling as bullocks must	D
And the shining tires might almost rust	D
While the spokes are turning slow	E
	-
With face half hid 'neath a broad brimmed hat	F
That shades from the heat's white waves	G
And shouldered whip with its green hide plait	H
The driver plods with a gait like that	F
Of his weary patient slaves	G
	-
He wipes his brow for the day is hot	I
And spits to the left with spite	J
He shouts at Bally' and flicks at Scot'	J
And raises dust from the back of Spot'	J
And spits to the dusty right	J
	-
He'll sometimes pause as a thing of form	K
In front of a settler's door	L
And ask for a drink and remark It's warm	K
Or say There's signs of a thunder storm'	K
But he seldom utters more	L
	-
But the rains are heavy on roads like these	M
And fronting his lonely home	K
For weeks together the settler sees	M
The teams bogged down to the axletrees	M
Or ploughing the sodden loam	K
	-
And then when the roads are at their worst	J
The bushman's children hear	N
The cruel blows of the whips reversed	J
While bullocks pull as their hearts would burst	J
And bellow with pain and fear	O
	-
And thus with little of joy or rest	J
Are the long long journeys done	C
And thus 'tis a cruel war at the best	J
Is distance fought in the mighty West	J
And the lonely battles won	C

Henry Lawson

The Teams Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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