Taking His Chance
They stood by the door of the Inn on the Rise;May Carney looked up in the bushranger's eyes:'Oh! why did you come? -- it was mad of you, Jack;You know that the troopers are out on your track.'A laugh and a shake of his obstinate head --'I wanted a dance, and I'll chance it,' he said.
Some twenty-odd bushmen had come to the 'ball',But Jack from his youth had been known to them all,And bushmen are soft where a woman is fair,So the love of May Carney protected him there;And all the short evening -- it seems like romance --She danced with a bushranger taking his chance.
'Twas midnight -- the dancers stood suddenly still,For hoofs had been heard on the side of the hill!Ben Duggan, the drover, along the hillsideCame riding as only a bushman can ride.He sprang from his horse, to the shanty he sped --'The troopers are down in the gully!' he said.
Quite close to the homestead the troopers were seen.'Clear out and ride hard for the ranges, Jack Dean!Be quick!' said May Carney -- her hand on her heart --'We'll bluff them awhile, and 'twill give you a start.'He lingered a moment -- to kiss her, of course --Then ran to the trees where he'd hobbled his horse.
She ran to the gate, and the troopers were there --The jingle of hobbles came faint on the air --Then loudly she screamed: it was only to drownThe treacherous clatter of slip-rails let down.But troopers are sharp, and she saw at a glanceThat someone was taking a desperate chance.
They chased, and they shouted, 'Surrender, Jack Dean!'They called him three times in the name of the Queen.Then came from the darkness the clicking of locks;The crack of the rifles was heard in the rocks!A shriek and a shout, and a rush of pale men --And there lay the bushranger, chancing it then.
The sergeant dismounted and knelt on the sod --'Your bushranging's over -- make peace, Jack, with God!'The bushranger laughed -- not a word he replied,But turned to the girl who knelt down by his side.He gazed in her eyes as she lifted his head:'Just kiss me -- my girl -- and -- I'll -- chance it,' he said.
When the kindly hours of darkness, save for light of moon and star,Hide the picture on the signboard over Doughty's Horse Bazaar;When the last rose-tint is fading on the distant mulga scrub,Then the Army prays for Watty at the entrance of his pub.
Now, I often sit at Watty's when the night is very near,With a head that's full of jingles and the fumes of bottled beer,For I always have a fancy that, if I am over thereWhen the Army prays for Watty, I'm included in the prayer.
Watty lounges in his arm-chair, in its old accustomed place,With a fatherly expression on his round and passive face;And his arms are clasped before him in a calm, contented way,And he nods his head and dozes when he hears the Army pray.
And I wonder does he ponder on the distant years and dim,Or his chances over yonder, when the Army prays for him?Has he not a fear connected with the warm place down below,Where, according to good Christians, all the publicans should go?
But his features give no token of a feeling in his breast,Save of peace that is unbroken and a conscience well at rest;And we guzzle as we guzzled long before the Army came,And the loafers wait for 'shouters' and -- they get there just the same.
It would take a lot of praying -- lots of thumping on the drum --To prepare our sinful, straying, erring souls for Kingdom Come;But I love my fellow-sinners, and I hope, upon the whole,That the Army gets a hearing when it prays for Watty's soul.
Day of ending for beginnings!Ocean hath another innings,Ocean hath another score;And the surges sing his winnings,And the surges shout his winnings,And the surges shriek his winnings,All along the sullen shore.
Sing another dirge in wailing,For another vessel sailingWith the shadow-ships at sea;Shadow-ships for ever sinking --Shadow-ships whose pumps are clinking,And whose thirsty holds are drinkingPledges to Eternity.
Pray for souls of ghastly, soddenCorpses, floating round untroddenCliffs, where nought but sea-drift strays;Souls of dead men, in whose facesOf humanity no trace is --Not a mark to show their races --Floating round for days and days.
Ocean's salty tongues are lickingRound the faces of the drowned,And a cruel blade seems stickingThrough my heart and turning round.
Heaven! shall HIS ghastly, soddenCorpse float round for days and days?Shall it dash 'neath cliffs untrodden,Rocks where nought but sea-drift strays?
God in heaven! hide the floating,Falling, rising, face from me;God in heaven! stay the gloating,Mocking singing of the sea!
Words in this poem 24
- carney n.
- A disease of horses, on which the mouth is so furred that the afflicted animal can not eat. [Cf. L. carneus flesh.]
- bushranger n.
- One who roams, or hides, among the bushes; especially, in Australia, an escaped criminal living in the bush.
- drover n.
- One who drives cattle or sheep to market; one who makes it his business to purchase cattle, and drive them to market.
- bushman n.
- A woodsman; a settler in the bush. [Cf. D. boschman, boschjesman. See 1st Bush.]
- shanty n.
- A small, mean dwelling; a rough, slight building for temporary use; a hut. [Said to be fr. Ir. sean old + tig. a house.]
- gully v. i.
- To flow noisily. Johnson.
- bluff a.
- Having a broad, flattened front; as, the bluff bows of a ship. [Cf. OD. blaf flat, broad, blaffaert one with a broad face, also, a boaster; or G. verblüffen to confuse, LG. bluffen to frighten; to unknown origin.]
- awhile adv.
- For a while; for some time; for a short time. [Adj. a + while time, interval.]
- jingle v. i.
- To sound with a fine, sharp, rattling, clinking, or tinkling sound; as, sleigh bells jingle. [OE. gingelen, ginglen; prob. akin to E. chink; cf. also E. jangle.]
- clatter v. i.
- To make a rattling sound by striking hard bodies together; to make a succession of abrupt, rattling sounds. [AS. cla a rattle, akin to D. klateren to rattle. Cf. Clack.]
- desperate a.
- Without hope; given to despair; hopeless. [L. desperatus, p. p. of desperare. See Despair, and cf. Desperado.]
- signboard n.
- A board, placed on or before a shop, office, etc., on which ssome notice is given, as the name of a firm, of a business, or the like.
- bazaar n.
- In the East, an exchange, marketplace, or assemblage of shops where goods are exposed for sale. [Per. bazar market.]
- fading n.
- An Irish dance; also, the burden of a song.
- bottled a.
- Put into bottles; inclosed in bottles; pent up in, or as in, a bottle.
- fatherly a.
- Like a father in affection and care; paternal; tender; protecting; careful.
- yonder adv.
- At a distance, but within view. [OE. yonder, ýonder; cf. OD. ginder, Goth. jaindr there. Yond, adv.]
- conscience n.
- Knowledge of one's own thoughts or actions; consciousness. [F. conscience, fr. L. conscientia, fr. consciens, p.pr. of conscire to know, to be conscious; con- + scire to know. See Science.]
- guzzle v. i.
- To swallow liquor greedily; to drink much or frequently. [OP. gosillier, prob. orig., to pass through the throat; akin to F. gosier throat; cf. It. gozzo a bird's crop.]
- sullen a.
- Lonely; solitary; desolate. Wyclif (Job iii. 14). [OE. solein, solain, lonely, sullen; through Old French fr. (assumed) LL. solanus solitary, fr. L. solus alone. See Sole, a.]
- dirge n.
- A piece of music of a mournful character, to accompany funeral rites; a funeral hymn. [Contraction of Lat. dirige, direct thou (imperative of dirigere), the first word of a funeral hymn (Lat. transl. of Psalm v. 8) beginning, "Dirige, Domine, in c]
- salty a.
- Somewhat salt; saltish.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- corpse n.
- A human body in general, whether living or dead; -- sometimes contemptuosly. [OF. cors (sometimes written corps), F. corps, L. corpus; akin to AS. hrif womb. See Midriff, and cf. Corse, Corselet, Corps, Cuerpo.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Taking His Chance is in the public domain. This text is taken from In the Days When the World Was Wide, and Other Verses, Project Gutenberg ebook #214; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Henry Lawson, Taking His Chance, in In the Days When the World Was Wide (1896), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #214, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/lawson-world-was-wide/taking-his-chance.html, id L23220.
Form and metre
Taking His Chance is 99 lines in 19 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 79% of the lines: octosyllabic couplets. This poem did not settle on a metre of its own; the book it comes from is in iambic tetrameter.
See other poems in octosyllabic couplets, other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABBCC riseA · eyesA · jackB · trackB · headC · saidC
- 2 AABBCC ballA · allA · fairB · thereB · romanceC · chanceC
- 3 AABBCC stillA · hillA · hillsideB · rideB · spedC · saidC
- 4 AABBCC seenA · deanA · heartB · startB · courseC · horseC
- 5 AABBCC thereA · airA · drownB · downB · glanceC · chanceC
- 6 AABBCC deanA · queenA · locksB · rocksB · menC · thenC
- 7 AABBCC sodA · godA · repliedB · sideB · headC · saidC
- 8 AABB starA · bazaarA · scrubB · pubB
- 9 AABB nearA · beerA · thereB · prayerB
- 10 AABB placeA · faceA · wayB · prayB
- 11 AABB dimA · himA · belowB · goB
- 12 AABB breastA · restA · cameB · sameB
- 13 AABB drumA · comeA · wholeB · soulB
- 14 AABAAAB beginningsA · inningsA · scoreB · winningsA · winningsA · winningsA · shoreB
- 15 AA-BBB- wailingA · sailingA · sea · sinkingB · clinkingB · drinkingB · eternity
- 16 AABCCCB soddenA · untroddenA · straysB · facesC · isC · racesC · daysB
- 17 ABAB lickingA · drownedB · stickingA · roundB
- 18 ABAB soddenA · daysB · untroddenA · straysB
- 19 ABAB floatingA · meB · gloatingA · seaB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| They stood by the door of the Inn on the Rise; | 11 | ··········· |
| May Carney looked up in the bushranger's eyes: | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| 'Oh! why did you come? -- it was mad of you, Jack; | 11 | ··········· |
| You know that the troopers are out on your track.' | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| A laugh and a shake of his obstinate head -- | 11 | ·······/˘˘· |
| 'I wanted a dance, and I'll chance it,' he said. | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| Some twenty-odd bushmen had come to the 'ball', | 11 | ·/˘·/˘····· |
| But Jack from his youth had been known to them all, | 11 | ··········· |
| And bushmen are soft where a woman is fair, | 11 | ·/˘····/˘·· |
| So the love of May Carney protected him there; | 12 | ·····/˘˘/˘·· |
| And all the short evening -- it seems like romance -- | 11 | ····/˘···˘/ |
| She danced with a bushranger taking his chance. | 10 | ····/˘/˘·· |
| 'Twas midnight -- the dancers stood suddenly still, | 11 | ·/··/˘·/˘˘· |
| For hoofs had been heard on the side of the hill! | 11 | ··········· |
| Ben Duggan, the drover, along the hillside | 11 | ·/˘·/˘˘/·/· |
| Came riding as only a bushman can ride. | 11 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘·· |
| He sprang from his horse, to the shanty he sped -- | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| 'The troopers are down in the gully!' he said. | 11 | ·/˘····/˘·· |
| Quite close to the homestead the troopers were seen. | 11 | ····/··/˘·· |
| 'Clear out and ride hard for the ranges, Jack Dean! | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| Be quick!' said May Carney -- her hand on her heart -- | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| 'We'll bluff them awhile, and 'twill give you a start.' | 11 | ···˘/······ |
| He lingered a moment -- to kiss her, of course -- | 11 | ·/˘·/˘····· |
| Then ran to the trees where he'd hobbled his horse. | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| She ran to the gate, and the troopers were there -- | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| The jingle of hobbles came faint on the air -- | 11 | ·/˘·/˘····· |
| Then loudly she screamed: it was only to drown | 11 | ·/˘····/˘·· |
| The treacherous clatter of slip-rails let down. | 11 | ·/˘˘/˘····· |
| But troopers are sharp, and she saw at a glance | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| That someone was taking a desperate chance. | 10 | ·/··/˘·/˘· |
| They chased, and they shouted, 'Surrender, Jack Dean!' | 11 | ····/˘˘/˘·· |
| They called him three times in the name of the Queen. | 11 | ··········· |
| Then came from the darkness the clicking of locks; | 11 | ····/˘·/˘·· |
| The crack of the rifles was heard in the rocks! | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| A shriek and a shout, and a rush of pale men -- | 11 | ··········· |
| And there lay the bushranger, chancing it then. | 10 | ····/˘/˘·· |
| The sergeant dismounted and knelt on the sod -- | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| 'Your bushranging's over -- make peace, Jack, with God!' | 11 | ··········· |
| The bushranger laughed -- not a word he replied, | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| But turned to the girl who knelt down by his side. | 11 | ··········· |
| He gazed in her eyes as she lifted his head: | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| 'Just kiss me -- my girl -- and -- I'll -- chance it,' he said. | 11 | ··········· |
| When the kindly hours of darkness, save for light of moon and star, | 16 | ··/˘/˘·/˘······· |
| Hide the picture on the signboard over Doughty's Horse Bazaar; | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| When the last rose-tint is fading on the distant mulga scrub, | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| Then the Army prays for Watty at the entrance of his pub. | 15 | ··/˘······/˘··· |
| Now, I often sit at Watty's when the night is very near, | 15 | ··/˘········/˘· |
| With a head that's full of jingles and the fumes of bottled beer, | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| For I always have a fancy that, if I am over there | 15 | ··/···/˘······· |
| When the Army prays for Watty, I'm included in the prayer. | 15 | ··/˘·····˘/˘··· |
| Watty lounges in his arm-chair, in its old accustomed place, | 15 | ··/˘·······˘/˘· |
| With a fatherly expression on his round and passive face; | 15 | ··/˘˘˘/˘····/˘· |
| And his arms are clasped before him in a calm, contented way, | 15 | ···········˘/˘· |
| And he nods his head and dozes when he hears the Army pray. | 15 | ······/˘····/˘· |
| And I wonder does he ponder on the distant years and dim, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/˘··· |
| Or his chances over yonder, when the Army prays for him? | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/˘··· |
| Has he not a fear connected with the warm place down below, | 15 | ·····˘/˘······· |
| Where, according to good Christians, all the publicans should go? | 15 | ·˘/˘··/˘······· |
| But his features give no token of a feeling in his breast, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘··/˘··· |
| Save of peace that is unbroken and a conscience well at rest; | 15 | ·····˘/˘··/˘··· |
| And we guzzle as we guzzled long before the Army came, | 15 | ··/˘··/˘····/˘· |
| And the loafers wait for 'shouters' and -- they get there just the same. | 15 | ··/˘··········· |
| It would take a lot of praying -- lots of thumping on the drum -- | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| To prepare our sinful, straying, erring souls for Kingdom Come; | 16 | ·˘//˘/˘/˘/˘··/˘· |
| But I love my fellow-sinners, and I hope, upon the whole, | 15 | ····/˘/˘······· |
| That the Army gets a hearing when it prays for Watty's soul. | 15 | ··/˘··/˘······· |
| Day of ending for beginnings! | 8 | ··/˘·˘/˘ |
| Ocean hath another innings, | 8 | /˘·˘/˘/˘ |
| Ocean hath another score; | 7 | /˘·˘/˘· |
| And the surges sing his winnings, | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| And the surges shout his winnings, | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| And the surges shriek his winnings, | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| All along the sullen shore. | 7 | ·˘/·/˘· |
| Sing another dirge in wailing, | 8 | ·˘/˘··/˘ |
| For another vessel sailing | 8 | ·˘/˘/˘/˘ |
| With the shadow-ships at sea; | 7 | ··/···· |
| Shadow-ships for ever sinking -- | 8 | /···/˘/˘ |
| Shadow-ships whose pumps are clinking, | 8 | /·····/˘ |
| And whose thirsty holds are drinking | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| Pledges to Eternity. | 7 | /˘·˘/˘˘ |
| Pray for souls of ghastly, sodden | 8 | ····/˘/˘ |
| Corpses, floating round untrodden | 8 | /˘/˘···· |
| Cliffs, where nought but sea-drift strays; | 7 | ······· |
| Souls of dead men, in whose faces | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Of humanity no trace is -- | 8 | ·˘/˘˘··· |
| Not a mark to show their races -- | 8 | ······/˘ |
| Floating round for days and days. | 7 | /˘····· |
| Ocean's salty tongues are licking | 8 | /˘/˘··/˘ |
| Round the faces of the drowned, | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| And a cruel blade seems sticking | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| Through my heart and turning round. | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Heaven! shall HIS ghastly, sodden | 8 | /˘··/˘/˘ |
| Corpse float round for days and days? | 7 | ······· |
| Shall it dash 'neath cliffs untrodden, | 8 | ········ |
| Rocks where nought but sea-drift strays? | 7 | ······· |
| God in heaven! hide the floating, | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| Falling, rising, face from me; | 7 | /˘/˘··· |
| God in heaven! stay the gloating, | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| Mocking singing of the sea! | 7 | /˘/˘··· |
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