Gertrude Of Wyoming Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBCCDCDD EFEFFGFGG EEEEEHEHH IJIJJKJKK FEFLLDLMD NONOOEOEE PIPIIEIEE FQFRQLQLL SESEEFEFF TQTQREREE FFFFELFLL ELELLULVW QLQLLLLLL JLJLLXLYY ZEZEEJEJJ LA2LA2A2LA2LL QEQEEREQR LLLLLLLLL ELELLDLDD LLLLLB2| PART I | A |
| - | |
| On Susquehanna's side fair Wyoming | B |
| Although the wild flower on thy ruin'd wall | C |
| And roofless homes a sad remembrance bring | B |
| Of what thy gentle people did befall | C |
| Yet thou wert once the loveliest land of all | C |
| That see the Atlantic wave their morn restore | D |
| Sweet land may I thy lost delights recall | C |
| And paint thy Gertrude in her bowers of yore | D |
| Whose beauty was the love of Pennsylvania's shore | D |
| - | |
| Delightful Wyoming beneath thy skies | E |
| The happy shepherd swains had nought to do | F |
| But feed their flocks on green declivities | E |
| Or skim perchance thy lake with light canoe | F |
| From morn till evening's sweeter pastimes grew | F |
| With timbrel when beneath the forests brown | G |
| Thy lovely maidens would the dance renew | F |
| And aye those sunny mountains half way down | G |
| Would echo flageolet from some romantic town | G |
| - | |
| Then where of Indian hills the daylight takes | E |
| His leave how might you the flamingo see | E |
| Disporting like a meteor on the lakes | E |
| And playful squirrel on his nut grown tree | E |
| And every sound of life was full of glee | E |
| From merry mock bird's song or hum of men | H |
| While hearkening fearing naught their revelry | E |
| The wild deer arch'd his neck from glades and then | H |
| Unhunted sought his woods and wilderness again | H |
| - | |
| And scarce had Wyoming of war or crime | I |
| Heard but in transatlantic story rung | J |
| For here the exile met from every clime | I |
| And spoke in friendship every distant tongue | J |
| Men from the blood of warring Europe sprung | J |
| Were but divided by the running brook | K |
| And happy where no Rhenish trumpet sung | J |
| On plains no sieging mine's volcano shook | K |
| The blue eyed German changed his sword to pruning hook | K |
| - | |
| Nor far some Andalusian saraband | F |
| Would sound to many a native roundelay | E |
| But who is he that yet a dearer land | F |
| Remembers over hills and far away | L |
| Green Albin what though he no more survey | L |
| Thy ships at anchor on the quiet shore | D |
| Thy pelloch's rolling from the mountain bay | L |
| Thy lone sepulchral cairn upon the moor | M |
| And distant isles that hear the loud Corbrechtan roar | D |
| - | |
| Alas poor Caledonia's mountaineer | N |
| That wants stern edict e'er and feudal grief | O |
| Had forced him from a home he loved so dear | N |
| Yet found he here a home and glad relief | O |
| And plied the beverage from his own fair sheaf | O |
| That fired his Highland blood with mickle glee | E |
| And England sent her men of men the chief | O |
| Who taught those sires of empire yet to be | E |
| To plant the tree of life to plant fair Freedom's tree | E |
| - | |
| Here was not mingled in the city's pomp | P |
| Of life's extremes the grandeur and the gloom | I |
| Judgment awoke not here her dismal tromp | P |
| Nor seal'd in blood a fellow creature's doom | I |
| Nor mourn'd the captive in a living tomb | I |
| One venerable man beloved of all | E |
| Sufficed where innocence was yet in bloom | I |
| To sway the strife that seldom might befall | E |
| And Albert was their judge in patriarchal hall | E |
| - | |
| How reverend was the look serenely aged | F |
| He bore this gentle Pennsylvanian sire | Q |
| Where all but kindly fervors were assuaged | F |
| Undimm'd by weakness' shade or turbid ire | R |
| And though amidst the calm of thought entire | Q |
| Some high and haughty features might betray | L |
| A soul impetuous once 'twas earthly fire | Q |
| That fled composure's intellectual ray | L |
| As AEtna's fires grow dim before the rising day | L |
| - | |
| I boast no song in magic wonders rife | S |
| But yet oh Nature is there naught to prize | E |
| Familiar in thy bosom scenes of life | S |
| And dwells in day light truth's salubrious skies | E |
| No form with which the soul may sympathise | E |
| Young innocent on whose sweet forehead mild | F |
| The parted ringlet shone in simplest guise | E |
| An inmate in the home of Albert smiled | F |
| Or blest his noonday walk she was his only child | F |
| - | |
| The rose of England bloom'd on Gertrude's cheek | T |
| What though these shades had seen her birth her sire | Q |
| A Briton's independence taught to seek | T |
| Far western worlds and there his household fire | Q |
| The light of social love did long inspire | R |
| And many a halcyon day he lived to see | E |
| Unbroken but by one misfortune dire | R |
| When fate had reft his mutual heart but she | E |
| Was gone and Gertrude climb'd a widow'd father's knee | E |
| - | |
| A loved bequest and I may half impart | F |
| To them that feel the strong paternal tie | F |
| How like a new existence to his heart | F |
| That living flower uprose beneath his eye | F |
| Dear as she was from cherub infancy | E |
| From hours when she would round his garden play | L |
| To time when as the ripening years went by | F |
| Her lovely mind could culture well repay | L |
| And more engaging grew from pleasing day to day | L |
| - | |
| I may not paint those thousand infant charms | E |
| Unconscious fascination undesign'd | L |
| The orison repeated in his arms | E |
| For God to bless her sire and all mankind | L |
| The book the bosom on his knee reclined | L |
| Or how sweet fairy lore he heard her con | U |
| The playmate ere the teacher of her mind | L |
| All uncompanion'd else her heart had gone | V |
| Till now in Gertrude's eyes their ninth blue summer shone | W |
| - | |
| And summer was the tide and sweet the hour | Q |
| When sire and daughter saw with fleet descent | L |
| An Indian from his bark approach their bower | Q |
| Of buskin limb and swarthy lineament | L |
| The red wild feathers on his brow were blent | L |
| And bracelets bound the arm that help'd to light | L |
| A boy who seem'd as he beside him went | L |
| Of Christian vesture and complexion bright | L |
| Led by his dusky guide like morning brought by night | L |
| - | |
| Yet pensive seem'd the boy for one so young | J |
| The dimple from his polish'd cheek had fled | L |
| When leaning on his forest bow unstrung | J |
| Th' Oneyda warrior to the planter said | L |
| And laid his hand upon the stripling's head | L |
| Peace be to thee my words this belt approve | X |
| The paths of peace my steps have hither led | L |
| This little nursling take him to thy love | Y |
| And shield the bird unfledged since gone the parent dove | Y |
| - | |
| Christian I am the foeman of thy foe | Z |
| Our wampum league thy brethren did embrace | E |
| Upon the Michigan three moons ago | Z |
| We launch'd our pirogues for the bison chase | E |
| And with the Hurons planted for a space | E |
| With true and faithful hands the olive stalk | J |
| But snakes are in the bosoms of their race | E |
| And though they held with us a friendly talk | J |
| The hollow peace tree fell beneath their tomahawk | J |
| - | |
| It was encamping on the lake's far port | L |
| A cry of Areouski broke our sleep | A2 |
| Where storm'd an ambush'd foe thy nation's fort | L |
| And rapid rapid whoops came o'er the deep | A2 |
| But long thy country's war sign on the steep | A2 |
| Appear'd through ghastly intervals of light | L |
| And deathfully their thunders seem'd to sweep | A2 |
| Till utter darkness swallow'd up the sight | L |
| As if a shower of blood had quench'd the fiery fight | L |
| - | |
| - | |
| It slept it rose again on high their tower | Q |
| Sprung upwards like a torch to light the skies | E |
| Then down again it rain'd an ember shower | Q |
| And louder lamentations heard we rise | E |
| As when the evil Manitou that dries | E |
| Th' Ohio woods consumes them in his ire | R |
| In vain the desolated panther flies | E |
| And howls amidst his wilderness of fire | Q |
| Alas too late we reach'd and smote those Hurons dire | R |
| - | |
| But as the fox beneath the nobler hound | L |
| So died their warriors by our battle brand | L |
| And from the tree we with her child unbound | L |
| A lonely mother of the Christian land | L |
| Her lord the captain of the British band | L |
| Amidst the slaughter of his soldiers lay | L |
| Scarce knew the widow our delivering hand | L |
| Upon her child she sobb'd and soon'd away | L |
| Or shriek'd unto the God to whom the Christians pray | L |
| - | |
| Our virgins fed her with their kindly bowls | E |
| Of fever balm and sweet sagamite | L |
| But she was journeying to the land of souls | E |
| And lifted up her dying head to pray | L |
| That we should bid an ancient friend convey | L |
| Her orphan to his home of England's shore | D |
| And take she said this token far away | L |
| To one that will remember us of yore | D |
| When he beholds the ring that Waldegrave's Julia wore | D |
| - | |
| And I the eagle of my tribe have rush'd | L |
| With this lorn dove A sage's self command | L |
| Had quell'd the tears from Albert's heart that gush'd | L |
| But yet his cheek his agitated hand | L |
| That shower'd upon the stranger of the land | L |
| No common | B2 |
Thomas Campbell
(1)
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