The Pipes At Lucknow Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Pipes of the misty moorlands	A
Voice of the glens and hills	B
The droning of the torrents	C
The treble of the rills	C
Not the braes of bloom and heather	D
Nor the mountains dark with rain	E
Nor maiden bower nor border tower	D
Have heard your sweetest strain	E
	-
Dear to the Lowland reaper	D
And plaided mountaineer	F
To the cottage and the castle	G
The Scottish pipes are dear	F
Sweet sounds the ancient pibroch	H
O'er mountain loch and glade	I
But the sweetest of all music	J
The pipes at Lucknow played	I
	-
Day by day the Indian tiger	D
Louder yelled and nearer crept	K
Round and round the jungle serpent	L
Near and nearer circles swept	K
'Pray for rescue wives and mothers	C
Pray to day ' the soldier said	M
'To morrow death's between us	C
And the wrong and shame we dread '	-
	-
Oh they listened looked and waited	N
Till their hope became despair	O
And the sobs of low bewailing	J
Filled the pauses of their prayer	O
Then up spake a Scottish maiden	P
With her ear unto the ground	Q
'Dinna ye hear it dinna ye hear it	R
The pipes o' Havelock sound '	-
	-
Hushed the wounded man his groaning	J
Hushed the wife her little ones	C
Alone they heard the drum roll	S
And the roar of Sepoy guns	C
But to sounds of home and childhood	T
The Highland ear was true	U
As her mother's cradle crooning	J
The mountain pipes she knew	U
	-
Like the march of soundless music	J
Through the vision of the seer	V
More of feeling than of hearing	J
Of the heart than of the ear	V
She knew the droning pibroch	H
She knew the Campbell's call	W
'Hark hear ye no MacGregor's	C
The grandest o' them all '	-
	-
Oh they listened dumb and breathless	C
And they caught the sound at last	X
Faint and far beyond the Goomtee	X
Rose and fell the piper's blast	X
Then a burst of wild thanksgiving	J
Mingled woman's voice and man's	C
'God be praised the march of Havelock	J
The piping of the clans '	-
	-
Louder nearer fierce as vengeance	C
Sharp and shrill as swords at strife	Y
Came the wild MacGregor's clan call	W
Stinging all the air to life	Y
But when the far off dust cloud	X
To plaided legions grew	U
Full tenderly and blithesomely	W
The pipes of rescue blew	W
	-
Round the silver domes of Lucknow	U
Moslem mosque and Pagan shrine	U
Breathed the air to Britons dearest	X
The air of Auld Lang Syne	U
O'er the cruel roll of war drums	C
Rose that sweet and homelike strain	U
And the tartan clove the turban	U
As the Goomtee cleaves the plain	U
	-
Dear to the corn land reaper	D
And plaided mountaineer	F
To the cottage and the castle	W
The piper's song is dear	F
Sweet sounds the Gaelic pibroch	H
O'er mountain glen and glade	X
But the sweetest of all music	J
The pipes at Lucknow played	X

John Greenleaf Whittier

The Pipes At Lucknow Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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