Splitting Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Morning	A
	-
Out from the hut at break of day	B
And up the hills in the dawning grey	B
With the young wind flowing	A
From the blue east growing	A
Red with the white sun's ray	B
	-
Lone and clear as a deep bright dream	C
Under mid night's and mid slumber's stream	C
Up rises the mount against the sunrise shower	D
Vast as a kingdom fair as a flower	D
O'er it doth the foam of foliage ream	C
	-
In vivid softness serene	E
Pearly purple and marble green	E
Clear in their mingling tinges	F
Up away to the crest that fringes	F
Skies studded with cloud crags sheen	E
	-
Day	B
	-
Like birds frayed from their lurking shaw	G
Like ripples fleet 'neath a furious flaw	G
The echoes re echo flying	A
Down from the mauls hot plying	A
Clatter the axes grides the saw	G
	-
Ruddy and white the chips out spring	A
Like money sown by a pageant king	A
The free wood yields to the driven wedges	F
With its white sap edges	F
And heart in the sunshine glistening	A
	-
Broadly the ice clear azure floods down	H
Where the great tree tops are overthrown	I
As on through the endless day we labour	J
The sun for our nearest neighbour	J
Up o'er the mountains lone	I
	-
And so intensely it doth illume	C
That it shuts by times to gloom	C
In the open spaces thrilling	A
From the dead leaves distilling	A
A hot and harsh perfume	C
	-
Evening	A
	-
Give over All the valleys in sight	K
Fill fill with the rising tide of night	K
While the sunset with gold dust bridges	F
The black ravined ridges	F
Whose mighty muscles curve in its light	K
	-
In our weary climb while night dyes deep	L
Down the broken and stony steep	L
How our jaded bodies are shaken	M
By each step in half blindness taken	M
One's thoughts lie heaped like brutes asleep	L
	-
Open the door of the dismal hut	N
Silence and darkness lone were shut	N
In it as a tidal pool until returning	A
Night drowns the land no ember's burning	A
One is too weary the food to cut	N
	-
Body and soul with every blow	O
Wasted for ever and who will know	O
Where past this mountained night of toiling	A
Red life in its thousand veins is boiling	A
Of chips scattered on the mountain's brow	J

Sydney Wheeler Jephcott

Splitting Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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