How The Robin Came Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDDB EEFFGGHH IIJJK LLMNOPPOJQQ RRSSTT UUUTTVVWWJXXJYYZZJJA 2A2JJQ B2C2B2C2D2E2B2B2F2F2 RR

AN ALGONQUIN LEGENDA
-
HAPPY young friends sit by meB
Under May's blown apple treeB
While these home birds in and outC
Through the blossoms flit aboutC
Hear a story strange and oldD
By the wild red Indians toldD
How the robin came to beB
-
Once a great chief left his sonE
Well beloved his only oneE
When the boy was well nigh grownF
In the trial lodge aloneF
Left for tortures long and slowG
Youths like him must undergoG
Who their pride of manhood testH
Lacking water food and restH
-
Seven days the fast he keptI
Seven nights he never sleptI
Then the young boy wrung with painJ
Weak from nature's overstrainJ
Faltering moaned a low complaintK
'Spare me father for I faint '-
But the chieftain haughty eyedL
Hid his pity in his prideL
'You shall be a hunter goodM
Knowing never lack of foodN
You shall be a warrior greatO
Wise as fox and strong as bearP
Many scalps your belt shall wearP
If with patient heart you waitO
Bravely till your task is doneJ
Better you should starving dieQ
Than that boy and squaw should cryQ
Shame upon your father's son '-
-
When next morn the sun's first raysR
Glistened on the hemlock spraysR
Straight that lodge the old chief soughtS
And boiled sainp and moose meat broughtS
'Rise and eat my son ' he saidT
Lo he found the poor boy deadT
-
As with grief his grave they madeU
And his bow beside him laidU
Pipe and knife and wampum braidU
On the lodge top overheadT
Preening smooth its breast of redT
And the brown coat that it woreV
Sat a bird unknown beforeV
And as if with human tongueW
'Mourn me not ' it said or sungW
'I a bird am still your sonJ
Happier than if hunter fleetX
Or a brave before your feetX
Laying scalps in battle wonJ
Friend of man my song shall cheerY
Lodge and corn land hovering nearY
To each wigwam I shall bringZ
Tidings of the corning springZ
Every child my voice shall knowJ
In the moon of melting snowJ
When the maple's red bud swellsA2
And the wind flower lifts its bellsA2
As their fond companionJ
Men shall henceforth own your sonJ
And my song shall testifyQ
That of human kin am I '-
-
Thus the Indian legend saithB2
How at first the robin cameC2
With a sweeter life from deathB2
Bird for boy and still the sameC2
If my young friends doubt that thisD2
Is the robin's genesisE2
Not in vain is still the mythB2
If a truth be found therewithB2
Unto gentleness belongF2
Gifts unknown to pride and wrongF2
Happier far than hate is praiseR
He who sings than he who slaysR

John Greenleaf Whittier



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