The Truce Of Piscataqua Poem Rhyme Scheme

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John Greenleaf Whittier

The Truce Of Piscataqua Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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Raze these long blocks of brick and stone	A
These huge mill monsters overgrown	A
Blot out the humbler piles as well	B
Where moved like living shuttles dwell	B
The weaving genii of the bell	B
Tear from the wild Cocheco's track	C
The dams that hold its torrents back	C
And let the loud rejoicing fall	D
Plunge roaring down its rocky wall	D
And let the Indian's paddle play	E
On the unbridged Piscataqua	C
Wide over hill and valley spread	F
Once more the forest dusk and dread	F
With here and there a clearing cut	G
From the walled shadows round it shut	G
Each with its farm house builded rude	H
By English yeoman squared and hewed	H
And the grim flankered block house bound	H
With bristling palisades around	H
So haply shall before thine eyes	I
The dusty veil of centuries rise	I
The old strange scenery overlay	E
The tamer pictures of to day	E
While like the actors in a play	E
Pass in their ancient guise along	C
The figures of my border song	C
What time beside Cocheco's flood	H
The white man and the red man stood	H
With words of peace and brotherhood	H
When passed the sacred calumet	H
From lip to lip with fire draught wet	H
And puffed in scorn the peace pipe's smoke	C
Through the gray beard of Waldron broke	C
And Squando's voice in suppliant plea	J
For mercy struck the haughty key	J
Of one who held in any fate	H
His native pride inviolate	H
	-
'Let your ears be opened wide	H
He who speaks has never lied	H
Waldron of Piscataqua	J
Hear what Squando has to say	E
	-
'Squando shuts his eyes and sees	K
Far off Saco's hemlock trees	K
In his wigwam still as stone	A
Sits a woman all alone	A
	-
'Wampum beads and birchen strands	L
Dropping from her careless hands	L
Listening ever for the fleet	H
Patter of a dead child's feet	H
	-
'When the moon a year ago	J
Told the flowers the time to blow	J
In that lonely wigwam smiled	H
Menewee our little child	H
	-
'Ere that moon grew thin and old	H
He was lying still and cold	H
Sent before us weak and small	D
When the Master did not call	D
	-
'On his little grave I lay	E
Three times went and came the day	E
Thrice above me blazed the noon	M
Thrice upon me wept the moon	M
	-
'In the third night watch I heard	H
Far and low a spirit bird	H
Very mournful very wild	H
Sang the totem of my child	H
	-
''Menewee poor Menewee	N
Walks a path he cannot see	J
Let the white man's wigwam light	H
With its blaze his steps aright	H
	-
''All uncalled he dares not show	J
Empty hands to Manito	H
Better gifts he cannot bear	O
Than the scalps his slayers wear '	-
	-
'All the while the totem sang	J
Lightning blazed and thunder rang	J
And a black cloud reaching high	P
Pulled the white moon from the sky	P
	-
'I the medicine man whose ear	Q
All that spirits bear can hear	Q
I whose eyes are wide to see	J
All the things that are to be	J
	-
'Well I knew the dreadful signs	R
In the whispers of the pines	R
In the river roaring loud	H
In the mutter of the cloud	H
	-
'At the breaking of the day	H
From the grave I passed away	H
Flowers bloomed round me birds sang glad	H
But my heart was hot and mad	H
	-
'There is rust on Squando's knife	S
From the warm red springs of life	S
On the funeral hemlock trees	K
Many a scalp the totem sees	K
	-
'Blood for blood But evermore	T
Squando's heart is sad and sore	T
And his poor squaw waits at home	U
For the feet that never come	V
	-
'Waldron of Cocheco hear	Q
Squando speaks who laughs at fear	W
Take the captives he has ta'en	X
Let the land have peace again '	-
	-
As the words died on his tongue	J
Wide apart his warriors swung	J
Parted at the sign he gave	Y
Right and left like Egypt's wave	Y
	-
And like Israel passing free	J
Through the prophet charmed sea	J
Captive mother wife and child	H
Through the dusky terror filed	H
	-
One alone a little maid	H
Middleway her steps delayed	H
Glancing with quick troubled sight	H
Round about from red to white	H
	-
Then his hand the Indian laid	H
On the little maiden's head	H
Lightly from her forehead fair	O
Smoothing back her yellow hair	O
	-
'Gift or favor ask I none	Z
What I have is all my own	A
Never yet the birds have sung	J
Squando hath a beggar's tongue '	-
	-
'Yet for her who waits at home	U
For the dead who cannot come	V
Let the little Gold hair be	J
In the place of Menewee	H
	-
'Mishanock my little star	A2
Come to Saco's pines afar	A2
Where the sad one waits at home	U
Wequashim my moonlight come '	-
	-
'What ' quoth Waldron 'leave a child	H
Christian born to heathens wild	H
As God lives from Satan's hand	H
I will pluck her as a brand '	-
	-
'Hear me white man ' Squando cried	H
'Let the little one decide	H
Wequashim my moonlight say	H
Wilt thou go with me or stay '	-
	-
Slowly sadly half afraid	H
Half regretfully the maid	H
Owned the ties of blood and race	B2
Turned from Squando's pleading face	B2
	-
Not a word the Indian spoke	J
But his wampum chain he broke	J
And the beaded wonder hung	J
On that neck so fair and young	J
	-
Silence shod as phantoms seem	C2
In the marches of a dream	C2
Single filed the grim array	H
Through the pine trees wound away	H
	-
Doubting trembling sore amazed	H
Through her tears the young child gazed	H
'God preserve her ' Waldron said	H
'Satan hath bewitched the maid '	-
	-
Years went and came At close of day	H
Singing came a child from play	H
Tossing from her loose locked head	H
Gold in sunshine brown in shade	H
	-
Pride was in the mother's look	J
But her head she gravely shook	J
And with lips that fondly smiled	H
Feigned to chide her truant child	H
	-
Unabashed the maid began	D2
'Up and down the brook I ran	D2
Where beneath the bank so steep	E2
Lie the spotted trout asleep	E2
	-
''Chip ' went squirrel on the wall	D
After me I heard him call	D
And the cat bird on the tree	J
Tried his best to mimic me	J
	-
'Where the hemlocks grew so dark	J
That I stopped to look and hark	J
On a log with feather hat	H
By the path an Indian sat	H
	-
'Then I cried and ran away	H
But he called and bade me stay	H
And his voice was good and mild	H
As my mother's to her child	H
	-
'And he took my wampum chain	F2
Looked and looked it o'er again	X
Gave me berries and beside	H
On my neck a plaything tied '	-
	-
Straight the mother stooped to see	J
What the Indian's gift might be	J
On the braid of wampum hung	J
Lo a cross of silver swung	J
	-
Well she knew its graven sign	G2
Squando's bird and totem pine	G2
And a mirage of the brain	F2
Flowed her childhood back again	X
	-
Flashed the roof the sunshine through	H2
Into space the walls outgrew	H2
On the Indian's wigwam mat	H
Blossom crowned again she sat	H
	-
Cool she felt the west wind blow	J
In her ear the pines sang low	J
And like links from out a chain	F2
Dropped the years of care and pain	F2
From the outward toil and din	I2
From the griefs that gnaw within	I2
To the freedom of the woods	J2
Called the birds and winds and floods	K2
	-
Well O painful minister	L2
Watch thy flock but blame not her	L2
If her ear grew sharp to hear	Q
All their voices whispering near	W
	-
Blame her not as to her soul	M2
All the desert's glamour stole	M2
That a tear for childhood's loss	N2
Dropped upon the Indian's cross	N2
	-
When that night the Book was read	H
And she bowed her widowed head	H
And a prayer for each loved name	O2
Rose like incense from a flame	O2
	-
With a hope the creeds forbid	H
In her pitying bosom hid	H
To the listening ear of Heaven	Z
Lo the Indian's name was given	Z