Analysis of Conroy's Gap

Andrew Barton Paterson 1864 (Orange, New South Wales) – 1941 (Sydney, New South Wales)



This was the way of it, don't you know --
Ryan was "wanted" for stealing sheep,
And never a trooper, high or low,
Could find him -- catch a weasel asleep!
Till Trooper Scott, from the Stockman's Ford --
A bushman, too, as I've heard them tell --
Chanced to find him drunk as a lord
Round at the Shadow of Death Hotel.
D'you know the place? It's a wayside inn,
A low grog-shanty -- a bushman trap,
Hiding away in its shame and sin
Under the shelter of Conroy's Gap --
Under the shade of that frowning range
The roughest crowd that ever drew breath --
Thieves and rowdies, uncouth and strange,
Were mustered round at the "Shadow of Death".

The trooper knew that his man would slide
Like a dingo pup, if he saw the chance;
And with half a start on the mountain side
Ryan would lead him a merry dance.
Drunk as he was when the trooper came,
to him that did not matter a rap --
Drunk or sober, he was the same,
The boldest rider in Conroy's Gap.

"I want you, Ryan," the trooper said,
"And listen to me, if you dare resist,
So help me heaven, I'll shoot you dead!"
He snapped the steel on his prisoner's wrist,
And Ryan, hearing the handcuffs click,
Recovered his wits as they turned to go,
For fright will sober a man as quick
As all the drugs that the doctors know.

There was a girl in that shanty bar
Went by the name of Kate Carew,
Quiet and shy as the bush girls are,
But ready-witted and plucky, too.
She loved this Ryan, or so they say,
And passing by, while her eyes were dim
With tears, she said in a careless way,
"The Swagman's round in the stable, Jim."

Spoken too low for the trooper's ear,
Why should she care if he heard or not?
Plenty of swagmen far and near --
And yet to Ryan it meant a lot.
That was the name of the grandest horse
In all the district from east to west;
In every show ring, on every course,
They always counted The Swagman best.

He was a wonder, a raking bay --
One of the grand old Snowdon strain --
One of the sort that could race and stay
With his mighty limbs and his length of rein.
Born and bred on the mountain side,
He could race through scrub like a kangaroo;
The girl herself on his back might ride,
And The Swagman would carry her safely through.

He would travel gaily from daylight's flush
Till after the stars hung out their lamps;
There was never his like in the open bush,
And never his match on the cattle-camps.
For faster horses might well be found
On racing tracks, or a plain's extent,
But few, if any, on broken ground
Could see the way that The Swagman went.

When this girl's father, old Jim Carew,
Was droving out on the Castlereagh
With Conroy's cattle, a wire came through
To say that his wife couldn't live the day.
And he was a hundred miles from home,
As flies the crow, with never a track
Through plains as pathless as ocean's foam;
He mounted straight on The Swagman's back.

He left the camp by the sundown light,
And the settlers out on the Marthaguy
Awoke and heard, in the dead of night,
A single horseman hurrying by.
He crossed the Bogan at Dandaloo,
And many a mile of the silent plain
That lonely rider behind him threw
Before they settled to sleep again.

He rode all noght, and he steered his course
By the shining stars with a bushman's skill,
And every time that he pressed his horse
The Swagman answered him gamely still.
He neared his home as the east was bright.
The doctor met him outside the town
"Carew! How far did you come last night?"
"A hundred miles since the sun went down."

And his wife got round, and an oath he passed,
So long as he or one of his breed
Could raise a coin, though it took their last,
The Swagman never should want a feed.
And Kate Carew, when her father died,
She kept the horse and she kept him well;
The pride of the district far and wide,
He lived in style at the bush hotel.

Such wasThe Swagman; and Ryan knew
Nothing about could pace the crack;
Little he'd care for the man in blue
If once he got on The Swagman's back.
But how to do it? A word let fall
Gave him the hint as the girl passed by;
Nothing but "Swagman -- stable wall;
Go to the stable and mind your eye."

He caught her meaning, and quickly turned
To the trooper: "Reckon you'll gain a stripe
By arresting me, and it's easily earned;


Scheme ABABCDCDEFEFGHGH IJIJKFKF LMLMNANA OPOPQRQR XSXSTUTU QVQVIPIP XWXWXYXY PXPQZ1 Z1 2 N2 3 DVPX T4 T4 2 5 2 5 6 7 6 7 IDID P1 P1 8 3 8 3 XXO
Poetic Form
Metre 110111111 101101101 010010111 111101001 11011011 010111111 11111101 11011101 111011011 011100101 100101101 10010111 100111101 010111011 10101101 010110111 010111111 1010111101 0110110101 101110101 111110101 111111001 11101101 01010011 111100101 0101111101 111101111 1101111001 01010011 0101111111 111100111 110110101 110101101 11011110 100110111 110100101 111101111 010110101 111100101 01100101 101110101 111111111 1011101 011101101 110110101 010101111 01001111001 1110011 110100101 11011101 110111101 1110101111 10110101 111111001 010111111 0011100101 111010111 110011111 11101100101 0101110101 110101111 110110101 111101101 11011011 111101110 111101 111001011 1111110101 011010111 110111001 11111101 11011011 11011011 00101101 010100111 010101001 1101011 0100110101 110100111 011101101 111101111 101011011 0100111111 01101101 111110111 010111101 101111111 010110111 0111101111 111111111 110111111 01101101 011010101 110101111 011010101 110110101 1110101 10011101 101110101 11111011 111110111 110110111 1011101 110100111 110100101 1010101101 101010110011
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 4,207
Words 822
Sentences 32
Stanzas 13
Stanza Lengths 16, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 3
Lines Amount 107
Letters per line (avg) 30
Words per line (avg) 8
Letters per stanza (avg) 247
Words per stanza (avg) 63
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

4:11 min read
104

Andrew Barton Paterson

Andrew Barton "Banjo" Paterson, was an Australian bush poet, journalist and author. He wrote many ballads and poems about Australian life, focusing particularly on the rural and outback areas, including the district around Binalong, New South Wales, where he spent much of his childhood. Paterson's more notable poems include "Clancy of the Overflow" (1889), "The Man from Snowy River" (1890) and "Waltzing Matilda" (1895), regarded widely as Australia's unofficial national anthem. more…

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