The Dead Ship Of Harpswell Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCBDEFE GHIHJGKG LEMENOPO GQRQSGGG GTNTUGGG VWGXBYBY ZA2B2B2C2B2D2B2 GHE2HNJEJ F2QC2QGG2UG2 H2T GG G

What flecks the outer gray beyondA
The sundown's golden trailB
The white flash of a sea bird's wingC
Or gleam of slanting sailB
Let young eyes watch from Neck and PointD
And sea worn elders prayE
The ghost of what was once a shipF
Is sailing up the bayE
-
From gray sea fog from icy driftG
From peril and from painH
The home bound fisher greets thy lightsI
O hundred harbored MaineH
But many a keel shall seaward turnJ
And many a sail outstandG
When tall and white the Dead Ship loomsK
Against the dusk of landG
-
She rounds the headland's bristling pinesL
She threads the isle set bayE
No spur of breeze can speed her onM
Nor ebb of tide delayE
Old men still walk the Isle of OrrN
Who tell her date and nameO
Old shipwrights sit in Freeport yardsP
Who hewed her oaken frameO
-
What weary doom of baffled questG
Thou sad sea ghost is thineQ
What makes thee in the haunts of homeR
A wonder and a signQ
No foot is on thy silent deckS
Upon thy helm no handG
No ripple hath the soundless windG
That smites thee from the landG
-
For never comes the ship to portG
Howe'er the breeze may beT
Just when she nears the waiting shoreN
She drifts again to seaT
No tack of sail nor turn of helmU
Nor sheer of veering sideG
Stern fore she drives to sea and nightG
Against the wind and tideG
-
In vain o'er Harpswell Neck the starV
Of evening guides her inW
In vain for her the lamps are litG
Within thy tower SeguinX
In vain the harbor boat shall hailB
In vain the pilot callY
No hand shall reef her spectral sailB
Or let her anchor fallY
-
Shake brown old wives with dreary joyZ
Your gray head hints of illA2
And over sick beds whispering lowB2
Your prophecies fulfilB2
Some home amid yon birchen treesC2
Shall drape its door with woeB2
And slowly where the Dead Ship sailsD2
The burial boat shall rowB2
-
From Wolf Neck and from Flying PointG
From island and from mainH
From sheltered cove and tided creekE2
Shall glide the funeral trainH
The dead boat with the bearers fourN
The mourners at her sternJ
And one shall go the silent wayE
Who shall no more returnJ
-
And men shall sigh and women weepF2
Whose dear ones pale and pineQ
And sadly over sunset seasC2
Await the ghostly signQ
They know not that its sails are filledG
By pity's tender breathG2
Nor see the Angel at the helmU
Who steers the Ship of DeathG2
-
-
-
'Chill as a down east breeze should be '-
The Book man said 'A ghostly touchH2
The legend has I'm glad to seeT
Your flying Yankee beat the Dutch '-
'Well here is something of the sortG
Which one midsummer day I caughtG
In Narragansett Bay for lack of fish '-
'We wait ' the Traveller saidG
'serve hot or cold your dish '-

John Greenleaf Whittier



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