Mogg Megone - Part Iii. Poem Rhyme Scheme

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John Greenleaf Whittier

Mogg Megone - Part Iii. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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Ah weary Priest with pale hands pressed	A
On thy throbbing brow of pain	B
Baffled in thy life long quest	A
Overworn with toiling vain	B
How ill thy troubled musings fit	C
The holy quiet of a breast	A
With the Dove of Peace at rest	A
Sweetly brooding over it	C
Thoughts are thine which have no part	D
With the meek and pure of heart	D
Undisturbed by outward things	E
Resting in the heavenly shade	F
By the overspreading wings	E
Of the Blessed Spirit made	F
Thoughts of strife and hate and wrong	G
Sweep thy heated brain along	G
Fading hopes for whose success	H
It were sin to breathe a prayer	I
Schemes which Heaven may never bless	H
Fears which darken to despair	I
Hoary priest thy dream is done	J
Of a hundred red tribes won	J
To the pale of Holy Church	K
And the heretic o'erthrown	J
And his name no longer known	J
And thy weary brethren turning	L
Joyful from their years of mourning	L
'Twixt the altar and the porch	M
Hark what sudden sound is heard	N
In the wood and in the sky	O
Shriller than the scream of bird	N
Than the trumpet's clang more high	O
Every wolf cave of the hills	P
Forest arch and mountain gorge	Q
Rock and dell and river verge	R
With an answering echo thrills	P
Well does the Jesuit know that cry	O
Which summons the Norridgewock to die	O
And tells that the foe of his flock is nigh	O
He listens and hears the rangers come	S
With loud hurrah and jar of drum	S
And hurrying feet for the chase is hot	T
And the short sharp sound of rifle shot	T
And taunt and menace answered well	U
By the Indians' mocking cry and yell	U
The bark of dogs the squaw's mad scream	V
The dash of paddles along the stream	V
The whistle of shot as it cuts the leaves	W
Of the maples around the church's caves	X
And the gride of hatchets fiercely thrown	J
On wigwam log and tree and stone	J
Black with the grim of paint and dust	Y
Spotted and streaked with human gore	Z
A grim and naked head is thrust	Y
Within the chapel door	Z
'Ha Bomazeen In God's name say	A2
What mean these sounds of bloody fray '	B2
Silent the Indian points his hand	C2
To where across the echoing glen	J
Sweep Harmon's dreaded ranger hand	C2
And Moulton with his men	J
'Where are thy warriors Bomazeen	J
Where are De Rouville and Castine	J
And where the braves of Sawga's queen '	B2
'Let my father find the winter snow	J
Which the sun drank up long moons ago	J
Under the falls of Tacconock	J
The wolves are eating the Norridgewock	J
Castine with his wives lies closely hid	D2
Like a fox in the woods of Pemaquid	D2
On Sawga's banks the man of war	Z
Sits in his wigwam like a squaw	J
Squando has fled and Mogg Megone	J
Struck by the knife of Sagamore John	J
Lies stiff and stark and cold as a stone '	B2
	-
Fearfully over the Jesuit's face	E2
Of a thousand thoughts trace after trace	E2
Like swift cloud shadows each other chase	E2
One instant his fingers grasp his knife	F2
For a last vain struffle for cherished life	F2
The next he hurls the blade away	A2
And kneels at his altar's foot to pray	A2
Over his beads his fingers stray	A2
And he kisses the cross and calls aloud	D2
On the Virgin and her Son	J
For terrible thoughts his memory crowd	D2
Of evil seen and done	J
Of scalps brought home by his savage flock	J
From Casco and Sawga and Sagadahock	J
In the Church's service won	J
	-
No shrift the gloomy savage brooks	G2
As scowling on the priest he looks	G2
'Cowesass cowesass tawhich wessaseen	J
Let my father look upon Bomazeen	J
My father's heart is the heart of a squaw	J
But mine is so hard that it does not thaw	H2
Let my father ask his God to make	J
A dance and a feast for a great sagamore	A2
When he paddles across the western lake	J
With his dogs and his squaws to the spirit's shore	A2
'Cowesass cowesass tawhich wessaseen	J
Let my father die like Bomazeen '	-
	-
Through the chapel's narrow doors	I2
And through each window in the walls	J2
Bound the priest and warrior pours	I2
The deadly shower of English balls	J2
Low on his cross the Jesuit falls	J2
While at his side the Norridgewock	J
With failing breath essays to mock	J
And menace yet the hated foe	J
Shakes his scalp trophies to and fro	J
Exultingly before their eyes	K2
Till cleft and torn by shot and blow	J
Defiant still he dies	K2
	-
'So fare all eaters of the frog	J
Death to the Babylonish dog	J
Down with the beast of Rome '	-
With shouts like these around the dead	D2
Unconscious on his bloody bed	D2
The rangers crowding come	S
Brave men the dead priest cannot hear	A2
The unfeeling taunt the brutal jeer	A2
Spurn for he sees ye not in wrath	L2
The symbol of your Saviour's death	M2
Tear from his death grasp in your zeal	N2
And trample as a thing accursed	D2
The cross he cherished in the dust	D2
The dead man cannot feel	N2
	-
Brutal alike in deed and word	D2
With callous heart and hand of strife	F2
How like a fiend may man be made	D2
Plying the foul and monstrous trade	D2
Whose harvest field is human life	F2
Whose sickle is the reeking sword	D2
Quenching with reckless hand in blood	D2
Sparks kindled by the breath of God	D2
Urging the deathless soul unshriven	J
Of open guilt of secret sin	J
Before the bar of that pure Heaven	J
The holy only enter in	J
O by the widow's sore distress	H
The orphan's wailing wretchedness	H
By Virtue struggling in the accursed	D2
Embraces of polluting Lust	D2
By the fell discord of the Pit	D2
And the painted souls that people it	D2
And by the blessed peace which fills	H
The Paradise of God forever	A2
Resting on all its holy hills	H
And flowing with its crystal river	A2
Let Christian hands no longer bear	A2
In triumph on his crimson car	A2
The foul and idol god of war	A2
No more the purple wreaths prepare	A2
To bind amid his snaky hair	A2
Nor Christian bards his glories tell	U
Nor Christian tongues his praises swell	U
	-
Through the gun smoke wreathing white	D2
Glimpses on the soldiers' sight	D2
A thing of human shape I ween	J
For a moment only seen	J
With its loose hair backward streaming	J
And its eyeballs madly gleaming	J
Shrieking like a soul in pain	J
From the world of light and breath	M2
Hurrying to its place again	J
Spectre like it vanisheth	M2
	-
Wretched girl one eye alone	J
Notes the way which thou hast gone	J
That great Eye which slumbers never	A2
Watching o'er a lost world ever	A2
Tracks thee over vale and mountain	J
By the gushing forest fountain	J
Plucking from the vine its fruit	D2
Searching for the ground nut's root	D2
Peering in the she wolf's den	J
Wading through the marshy fen	J
Where the sluggish water snake	J
Basks beside the sunny brake	J
Coiling in his slimy bed	D2
Smooth and cold against thy tread	D2
Purposeless thy mazy way	A2
Threading through the lingering day	A2
And at night securely sleeping	J
Where the dogwood's dews are weeping	J
Still though the earth and man discard thee	M2
Doth thy Heavenly Father guard thee	M2
He who spared the guilty Cain	J
Even when a brother's blood	D2
Crying in the ear of God	D2
Gave the earth its primal stain	J
He whose mercy ever liveth	M2
Who repenting guilt forgiveth	M2
And the broken heart receiveth	M2
Wanderer of the wilderness	H
Haunted guilty crazed and wild	D2
He regardeth thy distress	H
And careth for his sinful child	D2
	-
'Tis springtime on the eastern hills	H
Like torrents gush the summer rills	H
Through winter's moss and dry dead leaves	H
The bladed grass revives and lives	H
Pushes the mouldering waste away	A2
And glimpses to the April day	A2
In kindly shower and sunshine bud	D2
The branches of the dull gray wood	D2
Out from its sunned and sheltered nooks	H
The blue eye of the violet looks	H
The southwest wind is warmly blowing	J
And odors from the springing grass	H
The pine tree and the sassafras	H
Are with it on its errands going	J
	-
A band is marching through the wood	D2
Where rolls the Kennebec his flood	D2
The warriors of the wilderness	H
Painted and in their battle dress	H
And with them one whose bearded cheek	J
And white and wrinkled brow bespeak	J
A wanderer from the shores of France	H
A few long locks of scattering snow	J
Beneath a battered morion flow	J
And from the rivets of the b	M2