The Angels Of Buena Vista Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Speak and tell us our Ximena looking northward far away	A
O'er the camp of the invaders o'er the Mexican array	A
Who is losing who is winning are they far or come they near	B
Look abroad and tell us sister whither rolls the storm we hear	C
	-
Down the hills of Angostura still the storm of battle rolls	D
Blood is flowing men are dying God have mercy on their souls	D
'Who is losing who is winning ' Over hill and over plain	E
I see but smoke of cannon clouding through the mountain rain '	-
	-
Holy Mother keep our brothers Look Ximena look once more	F
'Still I see the fearful whirlwind rolling darkly as before	F
Bearing on in strange confusion friend and foeman foot and horse	G
Like some wild and troubled torrent sweeping down its mountain course '	-
	-
Look forth once more Ximena 'Ah the smoke has rolled away	A
And I see the Northern rifles gleaming down the ranks of gray	A
Hark that sudden blast of bugles there the troop of Minon wheels	H
There the Northern horses thunder with the cannon at their heels	H
	-
'Jesu pity I how it thickens I now retreat and now advance	I
Bight against the blazing cannon shivers Puebla's charging lance	I
Down they go the brave young riders horse and foot together fall	J
Like a ploughshare in the fallow through them ploughs the Northern ball '	-
	-
Nearer came the storm and nearer rolling fast and frightful on	K
Speak Ximena speak and tell us who has lost and who has won	L
Alas alas I know not friend and foe together fall	J
O'er the dying rush the living pray my sisters for them all	J
	-
'Lo the wind the smoke is lifting Blessed Mother save my brain	E
I can see the wounded crawling slowly out from heaps of slain	E
Now they stagger blind and bleeding now they fall and strive to rise	M
Hasten sisters haste and save them lest they die before our eyes	M
	-
'O my hearts love O my dear one lay thy poor head on my knee	N
Dost thou know the lips that kiss thee Canst thou hear me canst thou see	N
O my husband brave and gentle O my Bernal look once more	F
On the blessed cross before thee Mercy all is o'er '	-
	-
Dry thy tears my poor Ximena lay thy dear one down to rest	O
Let his hands be meekly folded lay the cross upon his breast	O
Let his dirge be sung hereafter and his funeral masses said	P
To day thou poor bereaved one the living ask thy aid	Q
	-
Close beside her faintly moaning fair and young a soldier lay	A
Torn with shot and pierced with lances bleeding slow his life away	A
But as tenderly before him the lorn Ximena knelt	R
She saw the Northern eagle shining on his pistol belt	R
	-
With a stifled cry of horror straight she turned away her head	P
With a sad and bitter feeling looked she back upon her dead	P
But she heard the youth's low moaning and his struggling breath of pain	E
And she raised the cooling water to his parching lips again	S
	-
Whispered low the dying soldier pressed her hand and faintly smiled	T
Was that pitying face his mother's did she watch beside her child	T
All his stranger words with meaning her woman's heart supplied	U
With her kiss upon his forehead 'Mother ' murmured he and died	U
	-
'A bitter curse upon them poor boy who led thee forth	V
From some gentle sad eyed mother weeping lonely in the North '	-
Spake the mournful Mexic woman as she laid him with her dead	P
And turned to soothe the living and bind the wounds which bled	P
	-
'Look forth once more Ximena ' Like a cloud before the wind	W
Rolls the battle down the mountains leaving blood and death behind	W
Ah they plead in vain for mercy in the dust the wounded strive	X
'Hide your faces holy angels O thou Christ of God forgive '	-
	-
Sink O Night among thy mountains let the cool gray shadows fall	J
Dying brothers fighting demons drop thy curtain over all	J
Through the thickening winter twilight wide apart the battle rolled	Y
In its sheath the sabre rested and the cannon's lips grew cold	Y
	-
But the noble Mexic women still their holy task pursued	Z
Through that long dark night of sorrow worn and faint and lacking food	Z
Over weak and suffering brothers with a tender care they hung	A2
And the dying foeman blessed them in a strange and Northern tongue	A2
	-
Not wholly lost O Father is this evil world of ours	B2
Upward through its blood and ashes spring afresh the Eden flowers	B2
From its smoking hell of battle Love and Pity send their prayer	C2
And still thy white winged angels hover dimly in our air	C2

John Greenleaf Whittier

The Angels Of Buena Vista Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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