Analysis of Sam Holt
Andrew Barton Paterson 1864 (Orange, New South Wales) – 1941 (Sydney, New South Wales)
Oh! don't you remember Black Alice, Sam Holt
Black Alice, so dusky and dark,
The Warrego gin, with the straw through her nose,
And teeth like a Moreton Bay shark.
The terrible sheepwash tobacco she smoked
In the gunyah down there by the lake,
And the grubs that she roasted, and the lizards she stewed,
And the damper you taught her to bake.
Oh! don't you remember the moon's silver sheen,
And the Warrego sand-ridges white?
And don't you remember those big bull-dog ants
We caught in our blankets at night?
Oh! don't you remember the creepers, Sam Holt,
That scattered their fragrance around?
And don't you remember that broken-down colt
You sold me, and swore he was sound?
And don't you remember that fiver, Sam Holt,
You borrowed so frank and so free,
When the publican landed your fifty-pound cheque
At Tambo your very last spree?
Luck changes some natures, but yours, Sammy Holt,
Was a grand one as ever I see,
And I fancy I'll whistle a good many tunes
Ere you think of that fiver or me.
Oh! don't you remember the cattle you duffed,
And your luck at the Sandy Creek rush,
And the poker you played, and the bluffs that you bluffed,
And your habits of holding a flush?
And don't you remember the pasting you got
By the boys down in Callaghan's store,
When Tim Hooligan found a fifth ace in his hand,
And you holding his pile upon four?
You were not the cleanest potato, Sam Holt,
You had not the cleanest of fins.
But you made your pile on the Towers, Sam Holt,
And that covers the most of your sins.
They say you've ten thousand per annum, Sam Holt,
In England, a park and a drag;
Perhaps you forget you were six months ago
In Queensland a-humping your swag.
But who'd think to see you now dining in state
With a lord and the devil knows who,
You were flashing your dover, six short months ago,
In a lambing camp on the Barcoo.
When's my time coming? Perhaps never, I think,
And it's likely enough your old mate
Will be humping his drum on the Hughenden-road
To the end of the chapter of fate.
Scheme | ABXB XCXC XDXD AEAE AFBF AFXF AGXG XHXH AIAI AXJB KXJB XKXK |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Quatrain (92%) |
Metre | 11101011011 1101101 011101101 011010011 010010111 00111101 0011110001011 001011011 11101001101 0011101 01101011111 110101011 1110100111 11011001 01101011011 11101111 0110101111 1111011 1011011011 11011011 11011011101 101111011 011011001101 11111111 11101001011 011101011 001011001111 011011001 01101001011 1011011 111001011011 011011011 1010100111 11101011 11111101011 011001111 11111011011 01001001 01101101101 010111 11111111001 101001011 101011011101 00101101 11110011011 011001111 111111011 101101011 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 1,965 |
Words | 375 |
Sentences | 21 |
Stanzas | 12 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 48 |
Letters per line (avg) | 32 |
Words per line (avg) | 8 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 129 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 31 |
Font size:
Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:57 min read
- 77 Views
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem analysis to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Sam Holt" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/2592/sam-holt>.
Discuss this Andrew Barton Paterson poem analysis with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In