The Tragedy
Henry Lawson 1867 (Grenfell) – 1922 (Sydney)
Oh, I never felt so wretched, and things never looked so blue
Since the days I gulped the physic that my Granny used to brew;
For a friend in whom I trusted, entering my room last night,
Stole a bottleful of Heenzo from the desk whereon I write.
I am certain sure he did it (though he never would let on),
For all last week he had a cold and to-day his cough is gone;
Now I'm sick and sore and sorry, and I'm sad for friendship's sake
(It was better than the cough-cure that our Granny used to make).
Oh, he might have pinched my whisky, and he might have pinched my beer,
Or all the fame or money that I make while writing here –
Oh, he might have shook the blankets and I'd not have made a row,
If he'd only left my Heenzo till the morning, anyhow.
So I've lost my faith in Mateship, which was all I had to lose
Since I lost my faith in Russia and myself and got the blues;
And so trust turns to suspicion, and so friendship turns to hate,
Even Kaiser Bill would never pinch his Heenzo from a mate.
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:02 min read
- 117 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | AABB XXCC XXXX DDEE |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic octameter |
Characters | 1,010 |
Words | 203 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4 |
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"The Tragedy" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/18122/the-tragedy>.
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