In Camp Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Hanford Lennox Gordon

In Camp Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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With sable wings wide o'er the land	A
night sprinkles the dew of the heavens	B
And hard by the dark river's strand	A
in the midst of a tall somber forest	C
Two camp fires are lighted and beam	D
on the trunks and the arms of the pine trees	E
In the fitful light darkle and gleam	D
the swarthy hued faces around them	F
And one is the camp of DuLuth	G
and the other the camp of Tamdoka	H
But few are the jests and uncouth	G
of the voyageurs over their supper	I
While moody and silent the braves	J
round their fire in a circle sit crouching	H
And low is the whisper of leaves	K
and the sough of the wind in the branches	L
And low is the long winding howl	M
of the lone wolf afar in the forest	C
But shrill is the hoot of the owl	M
like a bugle blast blown in the pine tops	N
And the half startled voyageurs scowl	M
at the sudden and saucy intruder	I
Like the eyes of the wolves are the eyes	O
of the watchful and silent Dakotas	L
Like the face of the moon in the skies	O
when the clouds chase each other across it	P
Is Tamdoka's dark face in the light	Q
of the flickering flames of the camp fire	I
They have plotted red murder by night	Q
and securely contemplate their victims	R
But wary and armed to the teeth	S
are the resolute Frenchmen and ready	T
If need be to grapple with death	U
and to die hand to hand in the forest	C
Yet skilled in the arts and the wiles	V
of the cunning and crafty Algonkins AW	W
They cover their hearts with their smiles	V
and hide their suspicions of evil	X
Round their low smouldering fire	I
feigning sleep lie the watchful and wily Dakotas	L
But DuLuth and his voyageurs heap	Y
their fire that shall blaze till the morning	H
Ere they lay themselves snugly to rest	Z
with their guns by their sides on the blankets	A2
As if there were none to molest	Z
but the gray skulking wolves of the forest	C
	-
AW Ojibways	A2
	-
'Tis midnight The rising moon gleams	A2
weird and still o'er the dusky horizon	B2
Through the hushed somber forest she beams	A2
and fitfully gloams on the meadows	A2
And a dim glimmering pathway she paves	A2
at times on the dark stretch of river	I
The winds are asleep in the caves	A2
in the heart of the far away mountains	A2
And here on the meadows and there	C2
the lazy mists gather and hover	I
And the lights of the Fen Spirits flare	C2
and dance on the low lying marshes	A2
As still as the footsteps of death	U
by the bed of the babe and its mother	I
And hushed are the pines and beneath	S
lie the weary limbed boatmen in slumber	I
Walk softly walk softly O Moon	D2
through the gray broken clouds in thy pathway	E2
For the earth lies asleep and the boon	D2
of repose is bestowed on the weary	T
Toiling hands have forgotten their care	C2
e'en the brooks have forgotten to murmur	I
But hark there's a sound on the air	C2
'tis the light rustling robes of the Spirits	A2
Like the breath of the night in the leaves	A2
or the murmur of reeds on the river	I
In the cool of the mid summer eyes	A2
when the blaze of the day has descended	F2
Low crouching and shadowy forms	A2
as still as the gray morning's footsteps	A2
Creep sly as the serpent that charms	A2
on her nest in the meadow the plover	I
In the shadows of pine trunks they creep	Y
but their panther eyes gleam in the fire light	Q
As they peer on the white men asleep	Y
in the glow of the fire on their blankets	A2
Lo in each swarthy right hand a knife	G2
in the left hand the bow and the arrows	A2
Brave Frenchmen awake to the strife	G2
or you sleep in the forest forever	I
Nay nearer and nearer they glide	H2
like ghosts on the field of their battles	A2
Till close on the sleepers they bide	H2
but the signal of death from Tamdoka	H
Still the sleepers sleep on Not a breath	U
stirs the leaves of the awe stricken forest	C
The hushed air is heavy with death	U
like the footsteps of death are the moments	A2
Arise At the word with a bound	I2
to their feet spring the vigilant Frenchmen	J2
And the depths of the forest resound	I2
to the crack and the roar of their rifles	A2
And seven writhing forms on the ground	I2
clutch the earth From the pine tops the screech owl	M
Screams and flaps his wide wings in affright	I2
and plunges away through the shadows	A2
And swift on the wings of the night	I2
flee the dim phantom forms through the darkness	A2
Like cabris when white wolves pursue	A2
fled the four yet remaining Dakotas	A2
Through forest and fen land they flew	A2
and wild terror howled on their footsteps	A2
And one was Tamdoka DuLuth	G
through the night sent his voice like a trumpet	I2
Ye are Sons of Unktehee forsooth	G
Return to your mothers ye cowards	A2
His shrill voice they heard as they fled	I2
but only the echoes made answer	I
At the feet of the brave Frenchmen dead	I2
lay seven swarthy Sons of whitehead	I2
And there in the midst of the slain	K2
they found as it gleamed in the fire light	I2
The horn handled knife from the Seine	T
where it fell from the hand of Tamdoka	H
	-
In the gray of the morn ere the sun	B2
peeped over the dewy horizon	B2
Their journey again was begun	B2
and they toiled up the swift winding river	I
And many a shallow they passed	I2
on their way to the Lake of the Spirits AX	A2
But dauntless they reached it at last	I2
and found Akee pa kee tin's AY village	L2
On an isle in the midst of the lake	H
and a day in his teepees they tarried	I2
Of the deed in the wilderness spake	H
to the brave Chief the frank hearted Frenchman	M2
A generous man was the Chief	N2
and a friend of the fearless explorer	I
And dark was his visage with grief	N2
at the treacherous act of the warriors	A2
Brave Wazi kute is a man	M2
and his heart is as clear as the sunlight	I2
But the head of a treacherous clan	M2
and a snake in the grass is Tamdoka	H
Said the chief and he promised DuLuth	G
on the word of a friend and a warrior	I
To carry the pipe and the truth	G
to his cousin the chief at Kathaga	H
For thrice at the Tanka Mede	I2
he smoked in the lodge of the Frenchman	M2
And thrice had he carried away	E2
the bountiful gifts of the trader	I
	-
AX Mille Lacs	A2
	-
AY See Hennepin's account of Aqui pa que tin and his village	L2
Shea's Hennepin	O2
	-
When the chief could no longer prevail	P2
on the white men to rest in his teepees	A2
He guided their feet on the trail	P2
to the lakes of the winding Rice River AZ	A2
Now on speeds the light bark canoe	A2
through the lakes to the broad Gitchee Seebee BA	Q2
And up the great river they row	R2
up the Big Sandy Lake and Savanna	S2
And down through the meadows they go	R2
to the river of blue Gitchee Gumee BB	Q2
Still onward they speed to the Dalles	A2
to the roar of the white rolling rapids	A2
Where the dark river tumbles and falls	A2
down the ragged ravine of the mountains	A2
And singing his wild jubilee	T
to the low moaning pines and the cedars	A2
Rushes on to the unsalted sea	T
o'er the ledges upheaved by volcanoes	A2
Their luggage the voyageurs bore	T2
down the long winding path of the portage BC	R2
While they mingled their song with the roar	T2
of the turbid and turbulent waters	A2
Down wimpling and murmuring there	C2
'twixt two dewy hills winds a streamlet	I2
Like a long flaxen ringlet of hair	C2
on the breast of a maid in her slumber	I
	-
All safe at the foot of the trail	P2
where they left it they found their felucca	R2
And soon to the wind spread the sail	P2
and glided at ease through the waters	A2
Through the meadows and lakelets and forth	G
round the point stretching south like a finger	I
From the pine plumed hills on the north	G
sloping down to the bay and the lake side	I2
And behold at the foot of the hill	U2
a cluster of Chippewa wigwams	A2
And the busy wives plying with skill	U2
their nets in the emerald waters	A2
Two hundred white winters and more	T2
have fled from the face of the Summer	I
Since DuLuth on that wild somber shore	T2
in the unbroken forest primeval	X
From the midst of the spruce and the pines	A2
saw the smoke of the wigwams up curling	R2
Like the fumes from the temples and shrines	A2
of the Druids of old in their forests	A2
Ah little he dreamed then forsooth	G
that a city would stand on that hill side	I2
And bear the proud name of DuLuth	G
the untiring and dauntless explorer	I
A refuge for ships from the storms	A2
and for men from the bee hives of Europe	V2
Out stretching her long iron arms	A2
o'er an empire of Saxons and Normans	A2
	-
AZ Now called Mud River it empties into the Mississippi at Aitkin	S2
	-
BA Gitchee See bee Big River is the Ojibway name for the	G
Mississippi which is a corruption of Gitchee Seebee as Michigan is a	G
corruption of Gitchee Gumee Great Lake the Ojibway name of Lake	R2
Superior	I
	-
BB The Ojibways called the St Louis River Gitchee Gumee	F
See bee Great lake River i e the river of the Great Lake Lake	R2
Superior	I
	-
BC The route of DuLuth above described from the mouth of the	G
Wild Rice Mud River to Lake Superior was for centuries and still	U2
is the Indians' canoe route I have walked over the old portage from	F
the foot of the Dalles to the St Louis above trod by the feet of	W2
half breeds and voyageurs for more than two centuries and by the	G
Indians for perhaps a thousand years	A2
	-
The swift west wind sang in the sails	A2
and on flew the boat like a sea gull	X
By the green templed hills and the dales	A2
and the dark rugged rocks of the North Shore	T2
For the course of the brave Frenchman lay	E2
to his fort at the Gah mah na tek wahk	R2
By the shore of the grand Thunder Bay	E2
where the gray rocks loom up into mountains	A2
Where the Stone Giant sleeps on the Cape	X2
and the god of the storms makes the thunder	I
And the Makinak lifts his huge shape	X2
from the breast of the blue rolling waters	A2
And thence to the south westward led his course	A2
to the Holy Ghost Mission	S2
Where the Black Robes the brave shepherds	A2
fed their wild sheep on the isle Wauga ba me	F
In the enchanting Cha quam e gon Bay	E2
defended by all the Apostles BD	I2
And thence by the Ke we naw	S2
lay his course to the Mission Sainte Marie BE	F
Now the waves clap their myriad hands	A2
and streams the white hair of the surges	A2
DuLuth at the steady helm stands	A2
and he hums as he bounds o'er the billows	A2
	-
O sweet is the carol of bird	I2
And sweet is the murmur of streams	A2
But sweeter the voice that I heard	I2
In the night in the midst of my dreams	A2
	-
BD The Apostle Islands	A2
	-
BE At the Sault Ste Marie	F