Analysis of The New-Chum Swell
Charles Thatcher 1830 (Bristol) – 1878
I’ll sing just now a little song,
For you must understand,
’Tis of a fine young gentleman,
That left his native land—
That bid his ma and pa farewell,
And started brave and bold,
In a ship of fourteen hundred tons,
To come and dig for gold.
He dress was spicy as could be,
His fingers hung with rings,
White waistcoats, black silk pantaloons,
And other stylish things.
His berth was in the cuddy,
Which is on deck, you know,
And all the intermediates
He voted ‘deuced low.’
When the vessel left the London Docks,
Most jovial did he seem;
But in the Downs, a change came o’er
The spirit of his dream.
His ruddy cheeks turned very pale,
His countenance looked rum,
And with a mournful sigh, said he,
‘I wish I’d never come.’
The ship at length cast anchor,
And he was glad once more;
Six large trunks he then packed up,
And started for the shore—
His traps quite filled a whale-boat,
So of course I needn’t say,
That for the freight thereof, he had
A tidy sum to pay.
He came to town, and then put up
At the Criterion Hotel
If you’ve been there, you know the place,
And the charges pretty well.
He played at billiards half the day,
And smoked and lounged about,
Until the hundred pounds he’d brought,
Had precious near run out.
With five pounds in his pocket,
He went to Bendigo;
And when he saw the diggings,
They filled his heart with woe—
‘What! must I venture down a hole,
and throw up filthy clay?
If my mother could but see me now,
Whatever would she say?’
He went and bought a shovel
And a pick and dish as well;
But to every ten minutes’ work,
He took an hour’s spell.
The skin from off his fair, white hands
In blisters peeled away—
And thus he worked, and sunk about
Twelve inches every day.
When off the bottom just a foot,
He got quite out of heart,
And threw his pick down in a rage,
And off he did depart;
But when he’d left his hole, and gone,
A cove named Sydney Bob
Stepped into it, and soon took out
A pretty handsome ‘lob’.
With five shillings in his pocket,
He started in disgust,
And then we went upon the roads
As many a young swell must:
And if through the Black Forest
You ever chance to stray,
You may see him do the Gov’ment stroke
At eight bob every day.
Scheme | ABXBCDED FGXGFHXH XIJIXKFK JJLJXMXM LCXCMNXN OAEHXMXM XCXCXMNM XPXPXQNQ ORXRRJXM |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11110101 11101 11011100 111101 1111011 010101 001111101 110111 11110111 110111 111110 010101 1110010 111111 0100100 11011 101010101 1100111 10010111 010111 11011101 110011 01010111 111101 0111110 011111 1111111 010101 1111011 111111 1101111 010111 11110111 10010001 11111101 0010101 11110101 010101 01010111 110111 1110110 1111 011101 111111 11110101 011101 111011111 10111 1101010 0010111 111001101 111101 01111111 010101 01110101 1101001 11010101 111111 01111001 011101 11111101 011101 10110111 010101 11100110 110001 01110101 1100111 0110110 110111 11111011 1111001 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,162 |
Words | 426 |
Sentences | 16 |
Stanzas | 9 |
Stanza Lengths | 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8 |
Lines Amount | 72 |
Letters per line (avg) | 23 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 185 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 47 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:07 min read
- 71 Views
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"The New-Chum Swell" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 12 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/5469/the-new-chum-swell>.
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