Mogg Megone - Part I. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABBACDCDEEAAFF GGHHIHGGI JKLJMMCNCNN AAOOAAAPAAPQDQDRSRS TUTVWWXXYAJ YYACCAPP ZZA2 JJB2B2C2C2ECC D2DD2DE2E2AAF2 B2G2B2H2UMUMMI2 AAAAAC J2K2E2L2M2M2N2PN2PYY ADAAO2O2DMP2Q2MP2P2R 2R2S2AS2AP2A2QP2 T2T2U2U2V2AARRRAUUB2 B2E2E2G2G2PPP2P2E2DW 2DX2 X2Y2AA X2E2W2W2X2AADDEEEZ2Z 2CA3A3CAAMAMMZ2Who stands on that cliff like a figure of stone | A |
Unmoving and tall in the light of the sky | B |
Where the spray of the cataract sparkles on high | B |
Lonely and sternly save Mogg Megone | A |
Close to the verge of the rock is he | C |
While beneath him the Saco its work is doing | D |
Hurrying down to its grave the sea | C |
And slow through the rock its pathway hewing | D |
Far down through the mist of the falling river | E |
Which rises up like an incense ever | E |
The splintered points of the crags are seen | A |
With water howling and vexed between | A |
While the scooping whirl of the pool beneath | F |
Seems an open throat with its granite teeth | F |
- | |
But Mogg Megone never trembled yet | G |
Wherever his eye or his foot was set | G |
He is watchful each form in the moonlight dim | H |
Of rock or of tree is seen of him | H |
He listens each sound from afar is caught | I |
The faintest shiver of leaf and limb | H |
But he sees not the waters which foam and fret | G |
Whose moonlit spray has his moccasin wet | G |
And the roar of their rushing he bears it not | I |
- | |
The moonlight through the open bough | J |
Of the gnarl'd beech whose naked root | K |
Coils like a serpent at his foot | L |
Falls checkered on the Indian's brow | J |
His head is bare save only where | M |
Waves in the wind one lock of hair | M |
Reserved for him whoe'er he be | C |
More mighty than Megone in strife | N |
When breast to breast and knee to knee | C |
Above the fallen warrior's life | N |
Gleams quick and keen the scalping knife | N |
- | |
Megone hath his knife and hatchet and gun | A |
And his gaudy and tasselled blanket on | A |
His knife hath a handle with gold inlaid | O |
And magic words on its polished blade | O |
'Twas the gift of Castine to Mogg Megone | A |
For a scalp or twain from the Yengees torn | A |
His gun was the gift of the Tarrantine | A |
And Modocawando's wives had strung | P |
The brass and the beads which tinkle and shine | A |
On the polished breach and broad bright line | A |
Of beaded wampum around it hung | P |
What seeks Megone His foes are near | Q |
Grey Jocelyn's eye is never sleeping | D |
And the garrison lights are burning clear | Q |
Where Phillips' men their watch are keeping | D |
Let him hie him away through the dank river fog | R |
Never rustling the boughs nor displacing the rocks | S |
For the eyes and the ears which are watching for Mogg | R |
Are keener than those of the wolf or the fox | S |
- | |
He starts there's a rustle among the leaves | T |
Another the click of his gun in heard | U |
A footstep is it the step of Cleaves | T |
With Indian blood on his English sword | V |
Steals Harmon down from the sands of York | W |
With hand of iron and foot of cork | W |
Has Scamman versed in Indian wile | X |
For vengeance left his vine hung in isle | X |
Hark at that whistle soft and low | Y |
How lights the eye of Mogg Megone | A |
A smile gleams o'er his dusky brow | J |
'Boon welcome Johnny Bonython ' | - |
- | |
Out steps with cautious foot and slow | Y |
And quick keen glances to and fro | Y |
The hunted outlaw Bonython | A |
A low lean swarthy man is he | C |
With blanket garb and buskined knee | C |
And naught of English fashion on | A |
For he hates the race from whence he sprung | P |
And he couches his words in the Indian tongue | P |
- | |
'Hush let the Sachem's voice be weak | Z |
The water rat shall hear him speak | Z |
The owl shall whoop in the white man's ear | A2 |
That Mogg Megone with his scalps is here ' | - |
He pauses dark over cheek and brow | J |
A flush as of shame is stealing now | J |
'Sachem ' he says 'let me have the land | B2 |
Which stretches away upon either hand | B2 |
As far about as my feet can stray | C2 |
In the half of a gentle summer's day | C2 |
From the leaping brook to the Saco river | E |
And the fair hared girl thou hast sought of me | C |
Shall sit in the Sachem's wigwam and be | C |
The wife of Mogg Megone forever ' | - |
- | |
There's sudden light in the Indian's glance | D2 |
A moment's trace of powerful feeling | D |
Of love or triumph or both perchance | D2 |
Over his proud calm features stealing | D |
'The words of my father are very good | E2 |
He shall have the land and water and wood | E2 |
And he who harms the Sagamore John | A |
Shall feel the knife of Mogg Megone | A |
But the fawn of the Yengees shall sleep on my breast | F2 |
And the bird of the clearing shall sing in my nest ' | - |
- | |
'But father ' and the Indian's hand | B2 |
Falls gently on the white man's arm | G2 |
And with a smile as shrewdly bland | B2 |
As the deep voice is slow and calm | H2 |
'Where is my father's singing bird | U |
The sunny eye and sunset hair | M |
I know I have my father's word | U |
And that his word is good and fair | M |
But will my father tell me where | M |
Megone shall go and look for his bride | I2 |
For he sees her not by her father's side ' | - |
- | |
The dark stern eye of Bonython | A |
Flashes over the features of Mogg Megone | A |
In one of those glances which search within | A |
But the stolid calm of the Indian alone | A |
Remains where the trace of emotion has been | A |
'Does the Sachem doubt Let him go with me | C |
And the eyes of the Sachem his bride shall see ' | - |
- | |
Cautious and slow with pauses oft | J2 |
And watchful eyes and whispers soft | K2 |
The twain are stealing through the wood | E2 |
Leaving the downward rushing flood | L2 |
Whose deep and solemn roar behind | M2 |
Grows fainter on the evening wind | M2 |
Hark is that the angry howl | N2 |
Of the wolf the hills among | P |
Or the hooting of the owl | N2 |
On his leafy cradle swung | P |
Quickly glancing to and fro | Y |
Listening to each sound they go | Y |
Round the columns of the pine | A |
Indistinct in shadow seeming | D |
Like some old and pillared shrine | A |
With the soft and white moonshine | A |
Round the foliage tracery shed | O2 |
Of each column's branching head | O2 |
For its lamps of worship gleaming | D |
And the sounds awakened there | M |
In the pine leaves fine and small | P2 |
Soft and sweetly musical | Q2 |
By the fingers of the air | M |
For the anthem's dying fall | P2 |
Lingering round some temple's wall | P2 |
Niche and cornice round and round | R2 |
Wailing like the ghost of sound | R2 |
Is not Nature's worship thus | S2 |
Ceaseless ever going on | A |
Hath it not a voice for us | S2 |
In the thunder or the tone | A |
Of the leaf harp faint and small | P2 |
Speaking to the unsealed ear | A2 |
Words of blended love and fear | Q |
Of the mighty Soul of all | P2 |
- | |
Naught had the twain of thoughts like these | T2 |
As they wound along through the crowded trees | T2 |
Where never had rung the axeman's stroke | U2 |
On the gnarled trunk of the rough barked oak | U2 |
Climbing the dead tree's mossy log | V2 |
Breaking the mesh of the bramble fine | A |
Turning aside the wild grapevine | A |
And lightly crossing the quaking bog | R |
Whose surface shakes at the leap of the frog | R |
And out of whose pools the ghostly fog | R |
Creeps into the chill moonshine | A |
Yet even that Indian's ear had heard | U |
The preaching of the Holy Word | U |
Sanchekantacket's isle of sand | B2 |
Was once his father's hunting land | B2 |
Where zealous Hiacoomes stood | E2 |
The wild apostle of the wood | E2 |
Shook from his soul the fear of harm | G2 |
And trampled on the Powwaw's charm | G2 |
Until the wizard's curses hung | P |
Suspended on his palsying tongue | P |
And the fierce warrior grim and tall | P2 |
Trembled before the forest Paul | P2 |
A cottage hidden in the wood | E2 |
Red through its seams a light is glowing | D |
On rock and bough and tree trunk rude | W2 |
A narrow lustre throwing | D |
'Who's there ' a clear firm voice demands | X2 |
'Hold Ruth 'tis I the Sage more ' | - |
Quick at the summons hasty hands | X2 |
Unclose the bolted door | Y2 |
And on the outlaw's daughter shine | A |
The flashes of the kindled pine | A |
- | |
Tall and erect the maiden stands | X2 |
Like some young priestess of the wood | E2 |
The freeborn child of Solitude | W2 |
And bearing still the wild and rude | W2 |
Yet noble trace of Nature's hands | X2 |
Her dark brown cheek has caught its stain | A |
More from the sunshine than the rain | A |
Yet where her long fair hair is parting | D |
A pure white brow into light is starting | D |
And where the folds of her blanket sever | E |
Are a neck and bosom as white as ever | E |
The foam wreaths rise on the leaping river | E |
But in the convulsive quiver and grip | Z2 |
Of the muscles around her bloodless lip | Z2 |
There is something painful and sad to see | C |
And her eye has a glance more sternly wild | A3 |
Than even that of a forest child | A3 |
In its fearless and untamed freedom should be | C |
Yet seldom in hall or court are seen | A |
So queenly a form and so noble a mien | A |
As freely and smiling she welcomes them there | M |
Her outlawed sire and Mogg Megone | A |
'Pray father how does thy hunting fare | M |
And Sachem say does Scamman wear | M |
In sp | Z2 |
John Greenleaf Whittier
(1)
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