All The Little Hoofprints Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHIJ KLMNOPQRDST UVWXYZLA2B2C2D2WN E2KF2G2DH2 I2 J2K2L2D2QYKM2N2L2O2J 2L2 DOP2Q2| Farther up the gorge the sea's voice fainted and ceased | A |
| We heard a new noise far away ahead of us vague and metallic | B |
| it might have been some unpleasant bird's voice | C |
| Bedded in a matrix of long silences At length we came to a little | D |
| cabin lost in the redwoods | E |
| An old man sat on a bench before the doorway filing a cross cut | F |
| saw sometimes he slept | G |
| Sometimes he filed Two or three horses in the corral by the | H |
| streamside lifted their heads | I |
| To watch us pass but the old man did not | J |
| - | |
| In the afternoon we | K |
| returned the same way | L |
| And had the picture in our minds of magnificent regions of space | M |
| and mountain not seen before This was | N |
| The first time that we visited Pigeon Gap whence you look | O |
| down behind the great shouldering pyramid | P |
| Edges of Pico Blanco through eagle gulfs of air to a forest basin | Q |
| Where two hundred foot redwoods look like the pile on a Turkish | R |
| carpet With such extensions of the idol | D |
| Worshipping mind we came down the streamside The old man | S |
| was still at his post by the cabin doorway but now | T |
| Stood up and stared said angrily 'Where are you camping ' | - |
| I said 'We're not camping we're going home ' He said | U |
| From his flushed heavy face 'That's the way fires get started | V |
| Did you come at night ' 'We passed you this morning | W |
| You were half asleep filing a saw ' 'I'll kill anybody that starts | X |
| a fire here ' his voice quavered | Y |
| Into bewilderment 'I didn't see you Kind of feeble I guess | Z |
| My temperature's a hundred and two every afternoon ' 'Why | L |
| what's the matter ' He removed his hat | A2 |
| And rather proudly showed us a deep healed trench in the bald | B2 |
| skull 'My horse fell at the ford | C2 |
| I must a cracked my head on a rock Well sir I can't remember | D2 |
| anything till next morning | W |
| I woke in bed the pillow was soaked with blood the horse was | N |
| in the corral and had had his hay ' | - |
| Singing the words as if he had told the story a hundred times | E2 |
| To whom To himself probably | K |
| 'The saddle was on the rack and the bridle on the right nail | F2 |
| What do you think of that now ' He passed | G2 |
| His hand on his bewildered forehead and said 'Unless an angel | D |
| or something came down and did it | H2 |
| A basin of blood and water by the crick I must 'a' washed myself ' | - |
| My wife said sharply 'Have you been to a doctor ' | - |
| 'Oh yes ' he said 'my boy happened down ' She said 'You | I2 |
| oughtn't to be alone here are you all alone here ' | - |
| 'No ' he answered 'horses I've been all over the world right | J2 |
| here is the most beautiful place in the world | K2 |
| I played the piccolo in ships' orchestras ' We looked at the immense | L2 |
| redwoods and dark Fern taken slip of land by the creek where the horses were | D2 |
| and the yuccaed hillsides high in the sun | Q |
| Flaring like torches I said 'Darkness comes early here ' He answered | Y |
| with pride and joy 'Two hundred and eighty | K |
| Five days in the year the sun never gets in here | M2 |
| Like living under the sea green all summer beautiful ' My wife | N2 |
| said 'How do you know your temperature's | L2 |
| A hundred and two ' 'Eh The doctor He said the bone | O2 |
| Presses my brain he's got to cut out a piece I said 'All right | J2 |
| you've got to wait till it rains | L2 |
| I've got to guard my place through the fire season ' By God ' | - |
| he said joyously | D |
| 'The quail on my roof wake me up every morning then I look | O |
| out the window and a dozen deer | P2 |
| Drift up the canyon with the mist on their shoulders Look in | Q2 |
| the dust at your feet all the little hoofprints ' | - |
Robinson Jeffers
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about All The Little Hoofprints poem by Robinson Jeffers
Best Poems of Robinson Jeffers