The Camp Of Souls Poem Rhyme Scheme

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My white canoe like the silvery air	A
O'er the River of Death that darkly rolls	B
When the moons of the world are round and fair	A
I paddle back from the 'Camp of Souls '	C
When the wishton wish in the low swamp grieves	D
Come the dark plumes of red 'Singing Leaves '	C
	-
Two hundred times have the moons of spring	E
Rolled over the bright bay's azure breath	F
Since they decked me with plumes of an eagle's wing	E
And painted my face with the 'paint of death '	-
And from their pipes o'er my corpse there broke	G
The solemn rings of the blue 'last smoke '	-
	-
Two hundred times have the wintry moons	H
Wrapped the dead earth in a blanket white	I
Two hundred times have the wild sky loons	H
Shrieked in the flush of the golden light	I
Of the first sweet dawn when the summer weaves	D
Her dusky wigwam of perfect leaves	D
	-
Two hundred moons of the falling leaf	J
Since they laid my bow in my dead right hand	K
And chanted above me the 'song of grief'	J
As I took my way to the spirit land	K
Yet when the swallow the blue air cleaves	D
Come the dark plumes of red 'Singing Leaves '	-
	-
White are the wigwams in that far camp	L
And the star eyed deer on the plains are found	M
No bitter marshes or tangled swamp	N
In the Manitou's happy hunting ground	M
And the moon of summer forever rolls	B
Above the red men in their 'Camp of Souls '	-
	-
Blue are its lakes as the wild dove's breast	O
And their murmurs soft as her gentle note	P
As the calm large stars in the deep sky rest	O
The yellow lilies upon them float	P
And canoes like flakes of the silvery snow	Q
Thro' the tall rustling rice beds come and go	Q
	-
Green are its forests no warrior wind	R
Rushes on war trail the dusk grove through	S
With leaf scalps of tall trees mourning behind	R
But South Wind heart friend of Great Manitou	R
When ferns and leaves with cool dews are wet	R
Bows flowery breaths from his red calumet	R
	-
Never upon them the white frosts lie	T
Nor glow their green boughs with the 'paint of death'	F
Manitou smiles in the crystal sky	T
Close breathing above them His life strong breath	F
And He speaks no more in fierce thunder sound	R
So near is His happy hunting ground	R
	-
Yet often I love in my white canoe	S
To come to the forests and camps of earth	F
'Twas there death's black arrow pierced me through	S
'Twas there my red browed mother gave me birth	F
There I in the light of a young man's dawn	U
Won the lily heart of dusk 'Springing Fawn '	-
	-
And love is a cord woven out of life	J
And dyed in the red of the living heart	R
And time is the hunter's rusty knife	J
That cannot cut the red strands apart	R
And I sail from the spirit shore to scan	V
Where the weaving of that strong cord began	V
	-
But I may not come with a giftless hand	R
So richly I pile in my white canoe	S
Flowers that bloom in the spirit land	R
Immortal smiles of Great Manitou	R
When I paddle back to the shores of earth	F
I scatter them over the white man's hearth	F
	-
For love is the breath of the soul set free	W
So I cross the river that darkly rolls	B
That my spirit may whisper soft to thee	W
Of thine who wait in the 'Camp of Souls '	-
When the bright day laughs or the wan night grieves	D
Come the dusky plumes of red 'Singing Leaves '	-

Isabella Valancy Crawford

The Camp Of Souls Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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