The Canoe Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABBAACCC DEFFEDGGHHII JJJJKK LBBBBJJBBBJJ MNNO PGGPQQRR BSSBJJRR JJJJ JNNJ TUUT JRRJ

My masters twain made me a bedA
Of pine boughs resinous and cedarB
Of moss a soft and gentle breederB
Of dreams of rest and me they spreadA
With furry skins and laughing saidA
Now she shall lay her polish'd sidesC
As queens do rest or dainty bridesC
Our slender lady of the tidesC
-
My masters twain their camp soul litD
Streamed incense from the hissing conesE
Large crimson flashes grew and whirl'dF
Thin golden nerves of sly light curl'dF
Round the dun camp and rose faint zonesE
Half way about each grim bole knitD
Like a shy child that would bedeckG
With its soft clasp a Brave's red neckG
Yet sees the rough shield on his breastH
The awful plumes shake on his crestH
And fearful drops his timid faceI
Nor dares complete the sweet embraceI
-
Into the hollow hearts of brakesJ
Yet warm from sides of does and stagsJ
Pass'd to the crisp dark river flagsJ
Sinuous red as copper snakesJ
Sharp headed serpents made of lightK
Glided and hid themselves in nightK
-
My masters twain the slaughtered deerL
Hung on fork'd boughs with thongs of leatherB
Bound were his stiff slim feet togetherB
His eyes like dead stars cold and drearB
The wand'ring firelight drew nearB
And laid its wide palm red and anxiousJ
On the sharp splendor of his branchesJ
On the white foam grown hard and sereB
On flank and shoulderB
Death hard as breast of granite boulderB
And under his lashesJ
Peer'd thro' his eyes at his life's grey ashesJ
-
My masters twain sang songs that woveM
As they burnish'd hunting blade and rifleN
A golden thread with a cobweb trifleN
Loud of the chase and low of loveO
-
O Love art thou a silver fishP
Shy of the line and shy of gaffingG
Which we do follow fierce yet laughingG
Casting at thee the light wing'd wishP
And at the last shall we bring thee upQ
From the crystal darkness under the cupQ
Of lily foldenR
On broad leaves goldenR
-
O Love art thou a silver deerB
Swift thy starr'd feet as wing of swallowS
While we with rushing arrows followS
And at the last shall we draw nearB
And over thy velvet neck cast thongsJ
Woven of roses of stars of songsJ
New chains all mouldenR
Of rare gems oldenR
-
They hung the slaughter'd fish like swordsJ
On saplings slender like scimitarsJ
Bright and ruddied from new dead warsJ
Blaz'd in the light the scaly hordesJ
-
They piled up boughs beneath the treesJ
Of cedar web and green fir tasselN
Low did the pointed pine tops rustleN
The camp fire blush'd to the tender breezeJ
-
The hounds laid dew laps on the groundT
With needles of pine sweet soft and rustyU
Dream'd of the dead stag stout and lustyU
A bat by the red flames wove its roundT
-
The darkness built its wigwam wallsJ
Close round the camp and at its curtainR
Press'd shapes thin woven and uncertainR
As white locks of tall waterfallsJ

Isabella Valancy Crawford



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