The Missionary - Canto Seventh Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIJCC KKLLMMNNOOPPQGRRSSKK TTTUVVDDWWXXOOQPPYYZ A2OOB2B2KGPPKKOOOOC2 C2OOOOAAHHVVD2D2E2E2 D2D2GGC2C2OOHHF2B2G2 G2VVH2H2I2I2D2D2J2K2 PPL2M2CCSSAAN2N2O2O2 A2A2P2P2ZA2O2O2OOVVO OOOG2G2J2K2KKQ2OR2R2 VVWWS2T2UTU2U2H2H2GG OOU2U2V2W2KKO2S2O2VV OD2| The watchman on the tower his bugle blew | A |
| And swelling to the morn the streamers flew | A |
| The rampart guns a dread alarum gave | B |
| Smoke rolled and thunder echoed o'er the wave | B |
| When starting from his couch Valdivia cried | C |
| What tidings Of the tribes a scout replied | C |
| Ev'n now prepared thy bulwarks to assail | D |
| Their gathering numbers darken all the vale | D |
| Valdivia called to the attendant youth | E |
| Philip he cried belike thy words have truth | E |
| The formidable host by holy James | F |
| Might well appal our priests and city dames | F |
| Dost thou not fear Nay dost thou not reply | G |
| Now by the rood and all the saints on high | G |
| I hold it sin that thou shouldst lift thy hand | H |
| Against thy brothers in thy native land | H |
| But as thou saidst those mighty enemies | I |
| Me and my feeble legions would despise | J |
| Yes by our holy lady thou shalt ride | C |
| Spectator of their prowess by my side | C |
| Come life come death our battle shall display | K |
| Its ensigns to the earliest beam of day | K |
| With louder summons ring the rampart bell | L |
| And haste the shriving father from his cell | L |
| A soldier's heart rejoices in alarms | M |
| And let the trump at midnight sound to arms | M |
| And now obedient to the chief's commands | N |
| The gray haired priest before the soldier stands | N |
| Father Valdivia cried fierce are our foes | O |
| The last event of war GOD only knows | O |
| Let mass be sung father this very night | P |
| I would attend the high and holy rite | P |
| Yet deem not that I doubt of victory | Q |
| Or place defeat or death before mine eye | G |
| It blenches not But whatsoe'er befall | R |
| Good father I would part in peace with all | R |
| So tell Lautaro his ingenuous mind | S |
| Perhaps may grieve if late I seemed unkind | S |
| Hear my heart speak though far from virtue's way | K |
| Ambition's lure hath led my steps astray | K |
| No wanton exercise of barbarous power | T |
| Harrows my shrinking conscience at this hour | T |
| If hasty passions oft my spirit fire | T |
| They flash a moment and the next expire | U |
| Lautaro knows it There is somewhat more | V |
| I would not here here on this distant shore | V |
| Should they the Indian multitudes prevail | D |
| And this good sword and these firm sinews fail | D |
| Amid my deadly enemies be found | W |
| 'Unhouseled ananealed ' upon the ground | W |
| A dying man thy look thy reverend age | X |
| Might save my poor remains from barb'rous rage | X |
| And thou may'st pay the last sad obsequies | O |
| O'er the heaped earth where a brave soldier lies | O |
| So GOD be with thee | Q |
| By the torches' light | P |
| The slow procession moves the solemn rite | P |
| Is chanted through the aisles and arches dim | Y |
| At intervals is heard the imploring hymn | Y |
| Now all is still that only you might hear | Z |
| The tall and slender tapers burning clear | A2 |
| Whose light Anselmo's palid brow illumes | O |
| Now glances on the mailed soldier's plumes | O |
| Hear sounding far only the iron tread | B2 |
| That echoed through the cloisters of the dead | B2 |
| Dark clouds are wandering o'er the heaven's wide way | K |
| Now from the camp at times a horse's neigh | G |
| Breaks on the ear and on the rampart height | P |
| The sentinel proclaims the middle watch of night | P |
| By the dim taper's solitary ray | K |
| Tired in his tent the sovereign soldier lay | K |
| Meantime as shadowy dreams arise he roams | O |
| 'Mid bright pavilions and imperial domes | O |
| Where terraces and battlements and towers | O |
| Glisten in air o'er rich romantic bowers | O |
| Sudden the visionary pomp is past | C2 |
| The vacant court sounds to the moaning blast | C2 |
| A dismal vault appears where with swoll'n eyes | O |
| As starting from their orbs a dead man lies | O |
| It is Almagro's corse roll on ye drums | O |
| Lo where the great the proud Pizarro comes | O |
| Her gold her richest gems let Fortune strew | A |
| Before the mighty conqueror of Peru | A |
| Ah turn and see a dagger in his hand | H |
| With ghastly look see the assassin stand | H |
| Pizarro falls he welters in his gore | V |
| Lord of the western world art thou no more | V |
| Valdivia hark it was another groan | D2 |
| Another shadow comes it is thy own | D2 |
| Ah bind not thus his arms give give him breath | E2 |
| Wipe from his bleeding brow those damps of death | E2 |
| Valdivia starting woke He is alone | D2 |
| The taper in his tent yet dimly shone | D2 |
| Lautaro haste he cried Lautaro save | G |
| Thy dying master Ah is this the brave | G |
| The haughty victor Hush the dream is past | C2 |
| The early trumpets ring the second blast | C2 |
| Arm arm Ev'n now the impatient charger neighs | O |
| Again from tent to tent the trumpet brays | O |
| By torch light then Valdivia gave command | H |
| Haste let Del Oro take a chosen band | H |
| With watchful caution on his fleetest steed | F2 |
| A troop observant on the heights to lead | B2 |
| Now beautiful beneath the heaven's gray arch | G2 |
| Appeared the main battalion's moving march | G2 |
| The banner of the cross was borne before | V |
| And next with aspect sad and tresses hoar | V |
| The holy man went thoughtfully and pressed | H2 |
| A crucifix in silence to his breast | H2 |
| Valdivia all in burnished steel arrayed | I2 |
| Upon whose crest the morn's effulgence played | I2 |
| Majestic reined his steed and seemed alone | D2 |
| Worthy the southern world's imperial throne | D2 |
| His features through the barred casque that glow | J2 |
| His pole axe pendent from the saddle bow | K2 |
| His dazzling armour and the glitter bright | P |
| Of his drawn sabre in the orient light | P |
| Speak him not now for knightly tournament | L2 |
| Arrayed but on emprise of prowess bent | M2 |
| And deeds of deadly strife In blooming pride | C |
| The attendant youth rode pensive by his side | C |
| Their pennoned lances waving in the wind | S |
| Two hundred clanking horsemen tramped behind | S |
| In iron harness clad The bugles blew | A |
| And high in air the sanguine ensigns flew | A |
| The arbalasters next with cross bows slung | N2 |
| Marched whilst the plumed Moors their cymbals swung | N2 |
| Auxiliar Indians here a various train | O2 |
| With spears and bows darkened the distant plain | O2 |
| Drums rolled and fifes re echoed shrill and clear | A2 |
| At intervals as near and yet more near | A2 |
| While flags and intermingled halberds shine | P2 |
| The long battalion drew its passing line | P2 |
| Last rolled the heavy guns a sable tier | Z |
| By Indians drawn with matchmen in the rear | A2 |
| And many a straggling mule and sumpter train | O2 |
| Closed the embattled order on the plain | O2 |
| Till nought beneath the azure sky appears | O |
| But the projecting points of scarce discovered spears | O |
| Slow up the hill with floating vapours hoar | V |
| Or by the blue lake's long retiring shore | V |
| Now seen distinct through the disparting haze | O |
| The glittering file its bannered length displays | O |
| Now winding from the woods again appears | O |
| The moving line of matchlocks and of spears | O |
| Part seen part lost the long illustrious march | G2 |
| Circling the swamp now draws its various arch | G2 |
| And seems as on it moves meandering slow | J2 |
| A radiant segment of a living bow | K2 |
| Five days the Spaniards trooping in array | K |
| O'er plains and headlands held their eastern way | K |
| On the sixth early dawn with shuddering awe | Q2 |
| And horror in the last defile they saw | O |
| Ten pendent heads from which the gore still run | R2 |
| All gashed and grim and blackening in the sun | R2 |
| These were the gallant troop that passed before | V |
| The Indians' vast encampment to explore | V |
| Led by Del Oro now with many a wound | W |
| Pierced and a headless trunk upon the ground | W |
| The horses startled as they tramped in blood | S2 |
| The troops a moment half recoiling stood | T2 |
| But boots not now to pause or to retire | U |
| Valdivia's eye flashed with indignant fire | T |
| Follow he cried brave comrades to the hill | U2 |
| And instant shouts the pealing valley fill | U2 |
| And now up to the hill's ascending crest | H2 |
| With animated look and beating breast | H2 |
| He urged his steed when wide beneath his eye | G |
| He saw in long expanse Arauco's valley lie | G |
| Far as the labouring sight could stretch its glance | O |
| One undulating mass of club and lance | O |
| One animated surface seemed to fill | U2 |
| The many stirring scene from hill to hill | U2 |
| To the deep mass he pointed with his sword | V2 |
| Banner advance give out 'Castile ' the word | W2 |
| Instant the files advance the trumpets bray | K |
| And now the host in terrible array | K |
| Ranged on the heights that overlook the plain | O2 |
| Has halted | S2 |
| But the task were long and vain | O2 |
| To tell what nations from the seas that roar | V |
| Round Patagonia's melancholy shore | V |
| From forests brown with everlasting shades | O |
| From rocks of sunshine white with prone | D2 |
William Lisle Bowles
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
About The Missionary - Canto Seventh
The Missionary - Canto Seventh is a poem by William Lisle Bowles. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
Write your comment about The Missionary - Canto Seventh poem by William Lisle Bowles
Best Poems of William Lisle Bowles