Derne Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCCDDDDEFFGGHHGGDDI IJJDDKKLMNNOOGGPPBBQ QRSTTGGGGGGGGGGQQGGG GKKUUFFVBGGWWGGDDGGX XYYZA2GGB2B2GGWWC2C2 ABPD2E2E2GGSSF2F2NNG 2G2H2H2I2I2J2J2DDNK2 F2F2DDL2L2

NIGHT on the city of the MoorA
On mosque and tomb and white walled shoreB
On sea waves to whose ceaseless knockC
The narrow harbor gates unlockC
On corsair's galley carack tallD
And plundered Christian caravalD
The sounds of Moslem life are stillD
No mule bell tinkles down the hillD
Stretched in the broad court of the khanE
The dusty Bornou caravanF
Lies heaped in slumber beast and manF
The Sheik is dreaming in his tentG
His noisy Arab tongue o'erspentG
The kiosk's glimmering lights are goneH
The merchant with his wares withdrawnH
Rough pillowed on some pirate breastG
The dancing girl has sunk to restG
And save where measured footsteps fallD
Along the Bashaw's guarded wallD
Or where like some bad dream the JewI
Creeps stealthily his quarter throughI
Or counts with fear his golden heapsJ
The City of the Corsair sleepsJ
But where yon prison long and lowD
Stands black against the pale star glowD
Chafed by the ceaseless wash of wavesK
There watch and pine the Christian slavesK
Rough bearded men whose far off wivesL
Wear out with grief their lonely livesM
And youth still flashing from his eyesN
The clear blue of New England skiesN
A treasured lock of whose soft hairO
Now wakes some sorrowing mother's prayerO
Or worn upon some maiden breastG
Stirs with the loving heart's unrestG
A bitter cup each life must drainP
The groaning earth is cursed with painP
And like the scroll the angel boreB
The shuddering Hebrew seer beforeB
O'erwrit alike without withinQ
With all the woes which follow sinQ
But bitterest of the ills beneathR
Whose load man totters down to deathS
Is that which plucks the regal crownT
Of Freedom from his forehead downT
And snatches from his powerless handG
The sceptred sign of self commandG
Effacing with the chain and rodG
The image and the seal of GodG
Till from his nature day by dayG
The manly virtues fall awayG
And leave him naked blind and muteG
The godlike merging in the bruteG
Why mourn the quiet ones who dieG
Beneath affection's tender eyeG
Unto their household and their kinQ
Like ripened corn sheaves gathered inQ
O weeper from that tranquil sodG
That holy harvest home of GodG
Turn to the quick and suffering shedG
Thy tears upon the living deadG
Thank God above thy dear ones' gravesK
They sleep with Him they are not slavesK
What dark mass down the mountain sidesU
Swift pouring like a stream dividesU
A long loose straggling caravanF
Camel and horse and arm d manF
The moon's low crescent glimmering o'erV
Its grave of waters to the shoreB
Lights up that mountain cavalcadeG
And gleams from gun and spear and bladeG
Near and more near now o'er them fallsW
The shadow of the city wallsW
Hark to the sentry's challenge drownedG
In the fierce trumpet's charging soundG
The rush of men the musket's pealD
The short sharp clang of meeting steelD
Vain Moslem vain thy lifeblood pouredG
So freely on thy foeman's swordG
Not to the swift nor to the strongX
The battles of the right belongX
For he who strikes for Freedom wearsY
The armor of the captive's prayersY
And Nature proffers to his causeZ
The strength of her eternal lawsA2
While he whose arm essays to bindG
And herd with common brutes his kindG
Strives evermore at fearful oddsB2
With Nature and the jealous godsB2
And dares the dread recoil which lateG
Or soon their right shall vindicateG
'T is done the horn d crescent fallsW
The star flag flouts the broken wallsW
Joy to the captive husband joyC2
To thy sick heart O brown locked boyC2
In sullen wrath the conquered MoorA
Wide open flings your dungeon doorB
And leaves ye free from cell and chainP
The owners of yourselves againD2
Dark as his allies desert bornE2
Soiled with the battle's stain and wornE2
With the long marches of his bandG
Through hottest wastes of rock and sandG
Scorched by the sun and furnace breathS
Of the red desert's wind of deathS
With welcome words and grasping handsF2
The victor and deliverer standsF2
The tale is one of distant skiesN
The dust of half a century liesN
Upon it yet its hero's nameG2
Still lingers on the lips of FameG2
Men speak the praise of him who gaveH2
Deliverance to the Moorman's slaveH2
Yet dare to brand with shame and crimeI2
The heroes of our land and timeI2
The self forgetful ones who stakeJ2
Home name and life for Freedom's sakeJ2
God mend his heart who cannot feelD
The impulse of a holy zealD
And sees not with his sordid eyesN
The beauty of self sacrificeK2
Though in the sacred place he standsF2
Uplifting consecrated handsF2
Unworthy are his lips to tellD
Of Jesus' martyr miracleD
Or name aright that dread embraceL2
Of suffering for a fallen raceL2

John Greenleaf Whittier



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