Analysis of Song of the Squatter
The Commissioner bet me a pony—I won,
So he cut off exactly two-thirds of my run;
For he said I was making a fortune too fast,
And profit gained slower the longer would last.
He remarked, as devouring my mutton he sat,
That I suffered my sheep to grow sadly too fat;
That they wasted waste land, did prerogative brown,
And rebelliously nibbled the droits of the Crown;
That the creek that divided my station in two
Showed that Nature designed that two fees should be due.
Mr. Riddle assured me’t was paid but for show,
But he kept it and spent it, that ’s all that I know.
The commissioner fined me because I forgot
To return an old ewe that was ill of the rot,
And a poor wry-necked lamb that we kept for a pet;
And he said it was treason such things to forget.
The commissioner pounded my cattle because
They had mumbled the scrub with their famishing jaws
On the part of the run he had taken away,
And he sold them by auction the costs to defray.
The border police they were out all the day
To look for some thieves who had ransacked my dray;
But the thieves they continued in quiet and peace,
For they ’d robbed it themselves, had the border police!
When the white thieves had left me the black thieves appeared,
My shepherds they waddied, my cattle they speared;
But from fear of my license I said not a word,
For I knew it was gone if the Government heard.
The commissioner’s bosom with anger was filled
Against me because my poor shepherd was killed;
So he straight took away the last third of my run,
And got it transferred to the name of his son.
The son had from Cambridge been lately expelled,
And his license for preaching most justly withheld!
But this is no cause, the commissioner says,
Why he should not be fit for my license to graze.
The cattle, that had not been sold at the pound,
He took with the run at five shillings all round,
And the sheep the blacks left me at sixpence a head,—
A very good price, the commissioner said.
The Governor told me I justly was served,
That commissioners never from duty had swerved;
But that if I’d a fancy for any more land
For one pound an acre he ’d plenty on hand.
I ’m not very proud! I can dig in a bog,
Feed pigs, or for firewood can split up a log,
Clean shoes, riddle cinders, or help to boil down—
Anything that you please, but graze lands of the Crown!
Scheme | AABB CCDD EEFF GGHH IIJJ JJKK XBLL MMAA NNXX OOPP QQRR XXDD |
---|---|
Poetic Form | Quatrain (83%) |
Metre | 00100110111 111101011111 111111001011 01011001011 1011010011011 111011111011 111011101001 011001101 101101011001 111001111111 101001111111 1111011111111 001001101101 101111111101 001111111101 011111011101 001001011001 1110011111 101101111001 011111001101 01001101101 1111111111 101101001001 1111101101001 101111101101 1101111011 111111011101 111111101001 001001011011 01101111011 111101011111 01101101111 01111011001 011011011001 11111001001 111111111011 01011111101 11101111011 00101111101 01011001001 01001111011 101001011011 111101011011 111110111011 111101111001 11111011101 11101011111 10111111101 |
Closest metre | Iambic hexameter |
Characters | 2,475 |
Words | 448 |
Sentences | 16 |
Stanzas | 12 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
Lines Amount | 48 |
Letters per line (avg) | 38 |
Words per line (avg) | 9 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 151 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 37 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:14 min read
- 86 Views
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"Song of the Squatter" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/31757/song-of-the-squatter>.
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