The Lumbermen Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCDEFEFEGEGCHCH IJIJKLKLMNMNGOGOGGGG PGPGEQEQCGCGRKSKCLCL MTMTEUEUGRGVEWECXGXG KGKGEYEYEZEZEA2EA2GG GGEGEGCGCGPEPEGRGVGB 2GB2GHGHMC2MC2CLCLCD 2CD2GGGGEUEU| WILDLY round our woodland quarters | A |
| Sad voiced Autumn grieves | B |
| Thickly down these swelling waters | A |
| Float his fallen leaves | B |
| Through the tall and naked timber | C |
| Column like and old | D |
| Gleam the sunsets of November | C |
| From their skies of gold | D |
| O'er us to the southland heading | E |
| Screams the gray wild goose | F |
| On the night frost sounds the treading | E |
| Of the brindled moose | F |
| Noiseless creeping while we're sleeping | E |
| Frost his task work plies | G |
| Soon his icy bridges heaping | E |
| Shall our log piles rise | G |
| When with sounds of smothered thunder | C |
| On some night of rain | H |
| Lake and river break asunder | C |
| Winter's weakened chain | H |
| Down the wild March flood shall bear them | I |
| To the saw mill's wheel | J |
| Or where Steam the slave shall tear them | I |
| With his teeth of steel | J |
| Be it starlight be it moonlight | K |
| In these vales below | L |
| When the earliest beams of sunlight | K |
| Streak the mountain's snow | L |
| Crisps the hoar frost keen and early | M |
| To our hurrying feet | N |
| And the forest echoes clearly | M |
| All our blows repeat | N |
| Where the crystal Ambijejis | G |
| Stretches broad and clear | O |
| And Millnoket's pine black ridges | G |
| Hide the browsing deer | O |
| Where through lakes and wide morasses | G |
| Or through rocky walls | G |
| Swift and strong Penobscot passes | G |
| White with foamy falls | G |
| Where through clouds are glimpses given | P |
| Of Katahdin's sides | G |
| Rock and forest piled to heaven | P |
| Torn and ploughed by slides | G |
| Far below the Indian trapping | E |
| In the sunshine warm | Q |
| Far above the snow cloud wrapping | E |
| Half the peak in storm | Q |
| Where are mossy carpets better | C |
| Than the Persian weaves | G |
| And than Eastern perfumes sweeter | C |
| Seem the fading leaves | G |
| And a music wild and solemn | R |
| From the pine tree's height | K |
| Rolls its vast and sea like volume | S |
| On the wind of night | K |
| Make we here our camp of winter | C |
| And through sleet and snow | L |
| Pitchy knot and beechen splinter | C |
| On our hearth shall glow | L |
| Here with mirth to lighten duty | M |
| We shall lack alone | T |
| Woman's smile and girlhood's beauty | M |
| Childhood's lisping tone | T |
| But their hearth is brighter burning | E |
| For our toil to day | U |
| And the welcome of returning | E |
| Shall our loss repay | U |
| When like seamen from the waters | G |
| From the woods we come | R |
| Greeting sisters wives and daughters | G |
| Angels of our home | V |
| Not for us the measured ringing | E |
| From the village spire | W |
| Not for us the Sabbath singing | E |
| Of the sweet voiced choir | C |
| Ours the old majestic temple | X |
| Where God's brightness shines | G |
| Down the dome so grand and ample | X |
| Propped by lofty pines | G |
| Through each branch enwoven skylight | K |
| Speaks He in the breeze | G |
| As of old beneath the twilight | K |
| Of lost Eden's trees | G |
| For His ear the inward feeling | E |
| Needs no outward tongue | Y |
| He can see the spirit kneeling | E |
| While the axe is swung | Y |
| Heeding truth alone and turning | E |
| From the false and dim | Z |
| Lamp of toil or altar burning | E |
| Are alike to Him | Z |
| Strike then comrades Trade is waiting | E |
| On our rugged toil | A2 |
| Far ships waiting for the freighting | E |
| Of our woodland spoil | A2 |
| Ships whose traffic links these highlands | G |
| Bleak and cold of ours | G |
| With the citron planted islands | G |
| Of a clime of flowers | G |
| To our frosts the tribute bringing | E |
| Of eternal heats | G |
| In our lap of winter flinging | E |
| Tropic fruits and sweets | G |
| Cheerly on the axe of labor | C |
| Let the sunbeams dance | G |
| Better than the flash of sabre | C |
| Or the gleam of lance | G |
| Strike With every blow is given | P |
| Freer sun and sky | E |
| And the long hid earth to heaven | P |
| Looks with wondering eye | E |
| Loud behind us grow the murmurs | G |
| Of the age to come | R |
| Clang of smiths and tread of farmers | G |
| Bearing harvest home | V |
| Here her virgin lap with treasures | G |
| Shall the green earth fill | B2 |
| Waving wheat and golden maize ears | G |
| Crown each beechen hill | B2 |
| Keep who will the city's alleys | G |
| Take the smooth shorn plain | H |
| Give to us the cedarn valleys | G |
| Rocks and hills of Maine | H |
| In our North land wild and woody | M |
| Let us still have part | C2 |
| Rugged nurse and mother sturdy | M |
| Hold us to thy heart | C2 |
| Oh our free hearts beat the warmer | C |
| For thy breath of snow | L |
| And our tread is all the firmer | C |
| For thy rocks below | L |
| Freedom hand in hand with labor | C |
| Walketh strong and brave | D2 |
| On the forehead of his neighbor | C |
| No man writeth Slave | D2 |
| Lo the day breaks old Katahdin's | G |
| Pine trees show its fires | G |
| While from these dim forest gardens | G |
| Rise their blackened spires | G |
| Up my comrades up and doing | E |
| Manhood's rugged play | U |
| Still renewing bravely hewing | E |
| Through the world our way | U |
John Greenleaf Whittier
(1)
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