The Camp Fire Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCD EDEDFGFG HIHIJEJE KDKDLGLG MD DNONO EGEGPQPR STSTLOLO UVUWOWO XXXXXYXY

When night hung low and dew fell dampA
There fell athwart the shadowsB
The gleaming watchfires of the campA
Like glow worms on the meadowsB
The sentinel his measured beatC
With measured tread was keepingD
While like bronze statues at his feetC
Lay tired soldiers sleepingD
-
-
On some worn faces of the menE
There crept a homesick yearningD
Which made it almost seem againE
The child look was returningD
While on full many a youthful browF
Till now to care a strangerG
The premature grave lines told howF
They had grown old through dangerG
-
-
One in his slumber laughed with joyH
The laughing echoes mocked himI
He thought beside his baby boyH
He sat and gaily rocked himI
O pitying angels Thou wert kindJ
To end this brief elysianE
He found what he no more could findJ
Save in a dreamer's visionE
-
-
The clear note of a mocking birdK
That star of sound came fallingD
Down thro' the night one wakeful heardK
And answered to the callingD
And then upon the ear there brokeL
That sweet pathetic measureG
That song that wakes as then it wokeL
Such mingled pain and pleasureG
-
-
One voice at first and then the soundM
Pulsed like a great bell's swingingD
'Tenting to night on the old camp ground '-
The whole roused camp was singingD
The sense of warfare's discontentN
Gave place to warfare's gloryO
Right merrily the swift hours wentN
With song and jest and storyO
-
-
They sang the song of Old John BrownE
Whose march goes on foreverG
It made them thirsty for renownE
It fired them with endeavorG
So much of that great heart lives stillP
So much of that great spiritQ
His very name shoots like a thrillP
Through all men when they hear itR
-
-
They found in tales of march and fightS
New courage as they listenedT
And while they watched the weird camp lightS
And while the still stars glistenedT
Like some stern comrade's voice there brokeL
And swept from hill to valleyO
'Til all the sleeping echoes wokeL
The bugle's call to rallyO
-
-
'To arms to arms the foe is near '-
Ah brave hearts were ye equalU
To hearing through without one fearV
The whole tale's bloody sequelU
The laurel wreath the victor's cryW
These are not all of gloryO
The gaping wound the glazing eyeW
They too are in the storyO
-
-
And when again their tents were spreadX
And by campfires they slumberedX
The missing faces of the deadX
The living ones outnumberedX
And yet their memories animateX
The hearts that still survive themY
And holy seems the task and greatX
For one hour to revive themY

Ella Wheeler Wilcox



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