Analysis of Beef Tea



She never nagged; she never said no word;
But sat an' looked at me an' never stirred.
 I could 'a' bluffed it out if she 'ad been
Fair narked, an' let me 'ave it wiv 'er tongue;
It silence told me 'ow 'er 'eart wus wrung.
Poor 'urt Doreen!
Gorstruth! I'd sooner fight wiv fifty men
Than git one look like that frum 'er agen!

She never moved; she never spoke no word;
That 'urt look in 'er eyes, like some scared bird:
  ' 'Ere is the man I loved,' it seemed to say.
''E's mine, this crawlin' thing, an' I'm 'is wife;
Tied up fer good; an' orl me joy in life
 Is chucked away!'
If she 'ad bashed me I'd 'a' felt no 'urt!
But 'ere she treats me like—like I wus dirt.

'Ow is a man to guard agen that look?
Fer other wimmin, when the'r blokes go crook,
An' lobs 'ome wiv the wages uv a jag,
They smashes things an' carries on a treat
An' 'owls an' scolds an' wakes the bloomin' street
Wiv noisy mag.
But 'er—she never speaks; she never stirs . . .
I drops me bundle . . . An' the game is 'ers.

Jist two months wed! Eight weeks uv married bliss
Wiv my Doreen, an' now it's come to this!
Wot wus I thinkin' uv? Gawd! I ain't fit
To kiss the place 'er little feet 'as been!
'Er that I called me wife, me own Doreen!
Fond dreams 'as flit;
Love's done a bunk, an' joy is up the pole;
An' shame an' sorrer's roostin' in me soul.

'Twus orl becors uv Ginger Mick—the cow!
(I wish't I 'ad 'im 'ere to deal wiv now!
I'd pass 'im one, I would! 'E ain't no man!)
I meets 'im Choosdee ev'nin' up the town.
'Wot O,' 'e chips me. 'Kin yeh keep one down?'
I sez I can.
We 'as a couple; then meets three er four
Flash coves I useter know, an' 'as some more.

''Ow are yeh on a little gamble, Kid?'
Sez Ginger Mick. 'Lars' night I'm on four quid.
Come 'round an' try yer luck at Steeny's school.
'No,' sez me conscience. Then I thinks, 'Why not?
An' buy 'er presents if I wins a pot?
A blazin' fool
I wus. Fer 'arf a mo' I 'as a fight;
Then conscience skies the wipe . . . Sez I 'Orright.'

Ten minutes later I was back once more,
Kip in me 'and, on Steeny Isaac's floor,
Me luck was in an' I wus 'eadin' good.
Yes, back agen amongst the same old crew!
An' orl the time down in me 'eart I knew
I never should . . .
Nex' thing I knows it's after two o'clock
Two in the morning! An' I've done me block!

'Wot odds?' I thinks. 'I'm in fer it orright.'
An' so I stops an' gambles orl the night;
An' bribes me conscience wiv the gilt I wins.
But when I comes out in the cold, 'ard dawn
I know I've crooled me pitch; me soul's in pawn.
My flamin' sins
They 'its me in a 'eap right where I live;
Fer I 'ave broke the solim vow I give.

She never magged; she never said no word.
An' when I speaks, it seems she never 'eard.
I could 'a' sung a nim, I feels so gay!
If she 'ad only roused I might 'a' smiled.
She jist seems 'urt an' crushed; not even riled.
I turns away,
An' yanks me carkis out into the yard,
Like some whipped pup; an' kicks meself reel 'ard.

An' then, I sneaks to bed, an' feels dead crook.
Fer golden quids I couldn't face that look
That trouble in the eyes uv my Doreen.
Aw, strike! Wot made me go an' do this thing?
I feel jist like a chewed up bit of string,
An' rotten mean!
Fer 'arf an hour I lies there feelin' cheap;
An' then I s'pose, I muster fell asleep….

' 'Ere, Kid, drink this' . . . I wakes, an' lifts me 'ead,
An' sees 'er standin' there beside the bed;
A basin in 'er 'ands; an' in 'er eyes  
(Eyes that wiv unshed tears is shinin' wet)
The sorter look I never shall ferget,
Until I dies.
' 'Ere, Kid, drink this,' she sez, an' smiles at me.
I looks — an' spare me days! It was beef tea!

Beef tea! She treats me like a hinvaleed!
Me! that 'as caused 'er lovin' 'eart to bleed.
It 'urts me worse than maggin' fer a week!
'Er! 'oo 'ad right to turn dead sour on me,
Fergives like that, an' feeds me wiv beef tea . . .
 I tries to speak;
An' then — I ain't ashamed o' wot I did
I 'ides me face . . . an' blubbers like a kid.


Scheme AABCCDXB AAEFFEAX GGCHHXII JJKBDKLL MMNOONPP QQRSSRTA PPUVVUWW ATXYYXXX AAEZZE1 1 GGD2 2 D3 3 AX4 XA4 5 5 AX6 5 5 6 QQ
Poetic Form
Metre 1101110111 1111111101 1101111111 1111111101 1101110111 1101 111011101 111111101 1101110111 1110011111 1101111111 111111111 1111111101 1101 1111110111 1111111111 110111111 1101101111 1111010101 1101110101 111111011 1101 1011011101 1111010111 1111111101 1101111111 1111011111 1101010111 0111111101 1111 1101111101 11111011 111110101 11111111111 1111111111 11111101 1111111111 1111 1101011101 111111111 1111010101 1101111111 111111111 1111011111 1101011101 011 1111011101 110101111 1101011111 10101111 111011111 111010111 1101101111 1101 1111110101 1001011111 111110111 1111110101 1111010111 1111100111 1111111101 111 111001111111 111101111 1101110111 1111111101 1101011111 1111011101 1111111101 1101 111110101 111111111 1111111111 1101110111 1100011101 1111111111 1111011111 1101 1111011111 11111110101 1111111111 110110101 0100011001 11111111 010111011 0111 1111111111 1111111111 11111101 1111010111 111111101 01111111011 111111111 1111 1111011111 111111101
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 3,896
Words 808
Sentences 92
Stanzas 12
Stanza Lengths 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8, 8
Lines Amount 96
Letters per line (avg) 29
Words per line (avg) 9
Letters per stanza (avg) 229
Words per stanza (avg) 68
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

4:06 min read
104

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis, better known as C. J. Dennis, was an Australian poet known for his humorous poems, especially "The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke", published in the early 20th century. Though Dennis's work is less well known today, his 1915 publication of The Sentimental Bloke sold 65,000 copies in its first year, and by 1917 he was the most prosperous poet in Australian history. Together with Banjo Paterson and Henry Lawson, both of whom he had collaborated with, he is often considered among Australia's three most famous poets. While attributed to Lawson by 1911, Dennis later claimed he himself was the 'laureate of the larrikin'. When he died at the age of 61, the Prime Minister of Australia Joseph Lyons suggested he was destined to be remembered as the 'Australian Robert Burns'. more…

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