St. Thomas Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDEFF FFGA HHIIIIFFJK IIJJLLFF MMNNOOPPQQ FIFIAA FFFFHHRRII| Very fair and full of promise | A |
| Lay the island of St Thomas | A |
| Ocean o'er its reefs and bars | B |
| Hid its elemental scars | B |
| Groves of cocoanut and guava | C |
| Grew above its fields of lava | C |
| So the gem of the Antilles | D |
| Isles of Eden where no ill is | E |
| Like a great green turtle slumbered | F |
| On the sea that it encumbered | F |
| - | |
| Then said William Henry Seward | F |
| As he cast his eye to leeward | F |
| Quite important to our commerce | G |
| Is this island of St Thomas | A |
| - | |
| Said the Mountain ranges Thank'ee | H |
| But we cannot stand the Yankee | H |
| O'er our scars and fissures poring | I |
| In our very vitals boring | I |
| In our sacred caverns prying | I |
| All our secret problems trying | I |
| Digging blasting with dynamit | F |
| Mocking all our thunders Damn it | F |
| Other lands may be more civil | J |
| Bust our lava crust if we will | K |
| - | |
| Said the Sea its white teeth gnashing | I |
| Through its coral reef lips flashing | I |
| Shall I let this scheming mortal | J |
| Shut with stone my shining portal | J |
| Curb my tide and check my play | L |
| Fence with wharves my shining bay | L |
| Rather let me be drawn out | F |
| In one awful waterspout | F |
| - | |
| Said the black browed Hurricane | M |
| Brooding down the Spanish Main | M |
| Shall I see my forces zounds | N |
| Measured by square inch and pounds | N |
| With detectives at my back | O |
| When I double on my track | O |
| And my secret paths made clear | P |
| Published o'er the hemisphere | P |
| To each gaping prying crew | Q |
| Shall I Blow me if I do | Q |
| - | |
| So the Mountains shook and thundered | F |
| And the Hurricane came sweeping | I |
| And the people stared and wondered | F |
| As the Sea came on them leaping | I |
| Each according to his promise | A |
| Made things lively at St Thomas | A |
| - | |
| Till one morn when Mr Seward | F |
| Cast his weather eye to leeward | F |
| There was not an inch of dry land | F |
| Left to mark his recent island | F |
| Not a flagstaff or a sentry | H |
| Not a wharf or port of entry | H |
| Only to cut matters shorter | R |
| Just a patch of muddy water | R |
| In the open ocean lying | I |
| And a gull above it flying | I |
Bret Harte (francis)
(1)
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