The House Of Fame Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Geoffrey Chaucer

The House Of Fame Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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BOOK I Incipit liber primus	A
	-
God turne us every dreem to gode	B
For hit is wonder be the rode	B
To my wit what causeth swevens	A
Either on morwes or on evens	A
And why the effect folweth of somme	C
And of somme hit shal never come	C
Why that is an avisioun	D
And this a revelacioun	D
Why this a dreem why that a sweven	D
And nat to every man liche even	D
Why this a fantom these oracles	A
I noot but who so of these miracles	A
The causes knoweth bet than I	E
Devyne he for I certeinly	F
Ne can hem noght ne never thinke	G
To besily my wit to swinke	G
To knowe of hir signifiaunce	A
The gendres neither the distaunce	A
Of tymes of hem ne the causes	A
For why this more than that cause is	A
As if folkes complexiouns	A
Make hem dreme of reflexiouns	A
Or ellis thus as other sayn	D
For to greet feblenesse of brayn	D
By abstinence or by seeknesse	A
Prison stewe or greet distresse	A
Or elles by disordinaunce	A
Of naturel acustomaunce	A
That som man is to curious	A
In studie or melancolious	A
Or thus so inly ful of drede	B
That no man may him bote bede	B
Or elles that devocioun	D
Of somme and contemplacioun	D
Causeth swiche dremes ofte	B
Or that the cruel lyf unsofte	B
Which these ilke lovers leden	D
That hopen over muche or dreden	D
That purely hir impressiouns	A
Causeth hem avisiouns	A
Or if that spirites have the might	B
To make folk to dreme a night	B
Or if the soule of propre kinde	B
Be so parfit as men finde	B
That hit forwot that is to come	C
And that hit warneth alle and somme	C
Of everiche of hir aventures	A
Be avisiouns or by figures	A
But that our flesh ne hath no might	B
To understonden hit aright	B
For hit is warned to derkly	F
But why the cause is noght wot I	E
Wel worthe of this thing grete clerkes	A
That trete of this and other werkes	A
For I of noon opinioun	D
Nil as now make mensioun	D
But only that the holy rode	B
Turne us every dreem to gode	B
For never sith that I was born	D
Ne no man elles me biforn	D
Mette I trowe stedfastly	F
So wonderful a dreem as I	E
The tenthe day dide of Decembre	H
The which as I can now remembre	H
I wol yow tellen every del	F
	-
The Invocation	D
	-
But at my ginninge trusteth wel	F
I wol make invocacioun	D
With special devocioun	D
Unto the god of slepe anoon	D
That dwelleth in a cave of stoon	D
Upon a streem that cometh fro Lete	B
That is a flood of helle unswete	B
Besyde a folk men clepe Cimerie	H
Ther slepeth ay this god unmerie	H
With his slepy thousand sones	A
That alway for to slepe hir wone is	A
And to this god that I of rede	B
Prey I that he wol me spede	B
My sweven for to telle aright	B
If every dreem stonde in his might	B
And he that mover is of al	F
That is and was and ever shal	F
So yive hem Ioye that hit here	H
Of alle that they dreme to yere	H
And for to stonden alle in grace	A
Of hir loves or in what place	A
That hem wer levest for to stonde	B
And shelde hem fro poverte and shonde	B
And fro unhappe and eche disese	A
And sende hem al that may hem plese	A
That take hit wel and scorne hit noght	B
Ne hit misdemen in her thoght	B
Through malicious entencioun	D
And who so through presumpcioun	D
Or hate or scorne or through envye	I
Dispyt or Iape or vilanye	I
Misdeme hit preye I Iesus god	B
That dreme he barfoot dreme he shod	B
That every harm that any man	D
Hath had sith that the world began	D
Befalle him therof or he sterve	J
And graunte he mote hit ful deserve	J
Lo with swich a conclusioun	D
As had of his avisioun	D
Cresus that was king of Lyde	B
That high upon a gebet dyde	B
This prayer shal he have of me	C
I am no bet in charite	B
Now herkneth as I have you seyd	B
What that I mette or I abreyd	B
	-
The Dream	C
	-
Of Decembre the tenthe day	B
Whan hit was night to slepe I lay	B
Right ther as I was wont to done	D
And fil on slepe wonder sone	D
As he that wery was for go	G
On pilgrimage myles two	K
To the corseynt Leonard	B
To make lythe of that was hard	B
But as I sleep me mette I was	A
Within a temple y mad of glas	A
In whiche ther were mo images	A
Of gold stondinge in sondry stages	A
And mo riche tabernacles	A
And with perre mo pinacles	A
And mo curious portreytures	A
And queynte maner of figures	A
Of olde werke then I saw ever	H
For certeynly I niste never	H
Wher that I was but wel wiste I	E
Hit was of Venus redely	B
The temple for in portreyture	H
I sawgh anoon right hir figure	H
Naked fletinge in a see	A
And also on hir heed parde	B
Hir rose garlond whyt and reed	B
And hir comb to kembe hir heed	B
Hir dowves and daun Cupido	B
Hir blinde sone and Vulcano	D
That in his face was ful broun	D
But as I romed up and doun	D
I fond that on a wal ther was	A
Thus writen on a table of bras	A
I wol now singe if that I can	D
The armes and al so the man	D
That first cam through his destinee	D
Fugitif of Troye contree	H
In Itaile with ful moche pyne	D
Unto the strondes of Lavyne '	-
And tho began the story anoon	D
As I shal telle yow echoon	D
First saw I the destruccioun	D
Of Troye through the Greek Sinoun	D
That with his false forsweringe	L
And his chere and his lesinge	L
Made the hors broght into Troye	I
Thorgh which Troyens loste al hir Ioye	I
And after this was grave allas	A
How Ilioun assailed was	A
And wonne and King Priam y slayn	D
And Polites his sone certayn	D
Dispitously of dan Pirrus	A
And next that saw I how Venus	A
Whan that she saw the castel brende	B
Doun fro the hevene gan descende	B
And bad hir sone Eneas flee	A
And how he fledde and how that he	A
Escaped was from al the pres	A
And took his fader Anchises	A
And bar him on his bakke away	B
Cryinge Allas and welaway '	-
The whiche Anchises in his honde	B
Bar the goddes of the londe	B
Thilke that unbrende were	H
And I saw next in alle this fere	H
How Creusa daun Eneas wyf	J
Which that he lovede as his lyf	J
And hir yonge sone Iulo	A
And eek Ascanius also	A
Fledden eek with drery chere	H
That hit was pitee for to here	H
And in a forest as they wente	B
At a turninge of a wente	B
How Creusa was y lost allas	A
That deed but noot I how she was	A
How he hir soughte and how hir gost	B
Bad him to flee the Grekes ost	B
And seyde he most unto Itaile	A
As was his destinee sauns faille	A
That hit was pitee for to here	H
Whan hir spirit gan appere	H
The wordes that she to him seyde	B
And for to kepe hir sone him preyde	B
Ther saw I graven eek how he	A
His fader eek and his meynee	D
With his shippes gan to sayle	A
Toward the contree of Itaile	A
As streight as that they mighte go	A
Ther saw I thee cruel Iuno	D
That art daun Iupiteres wyf	J
That hast y hated al thy lyf	J
Al the Troyanisshe blood	B
Renne and crye as thou were wood	B
On Eolus the god of windes	A
To blowen out of alle kindes	A
So loude that he shulde drenche	M
Lord and lady grome and wenche	M
Of al the Troyan nacioun	D
Withoute any savacioun	D
Ther saw I swich tempeste aryse	A
That every herte mighte agryse	A
To see hit peynted on the walle	A
Ther saw I graven eek withalle	A
Venus how ye my lady dere	H
Wepinge with ful woful chere	H
Prayen Iupiter an hye	I
To save and kepe that	B