The Weaver Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABAB CDCDCD BEBEBE FBFBFB GHGHGH IAIAIA

All day all day round the clacking netA
The weaver's fingers flyB
Gray dreams like frozen mists are setA
In the hush of the weaver's eyeB
A voice from the dusk is calling yetA
Oh come away or we dieB
-
Without is a horror of hosts that fightC
That rest not and cease not to killD
The thunder of feet and the cry of the flightC
A slaughter weird and shrillD
Gray dreams are set in the weaver's sightC
The weaver is weaving stillD
-
Come away dear soul come away or we dieB
Hear'st thou the moan and the rush Come awayE
The people are slain at the gates and they flyB
The kind God hath left them this dayE
The battle axes cleaves and the foemen cryB
And the red swords swing and slayE
-
Nay wife what boots to fly from painF
When pain is wherever we flyB
And death is a sweeter thing than a chainF
'Tis sweeter to sleep than to cryB
The kind God giveth the days that waneF
If the kind God hath said it I dieB
-
And the weaver wove and the good wife fledG
And the city was made a tombH
And a flame that shook from the rocks overheadG
Shone into that silent roomH
And touched like a wide red kiss on the deadG
Brown weaver slain by his loomH
-
Yet I think that in some dim shadowy landI
Where no suns rise or setA
Where the ghost of a whilom loom doth standI
Round the dusk of its silken netA
Forever flyeth his shadowy handI
And the weaver is weaving yetA

Archibald Lampman



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