Heretic's Tragedy, The Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BACBDBB EBFGB BH A IBIBBABABA E AHAHJKJKLMEK ANANLILI B I K EOEOKPKP B P K AJAJAAAAK K AQAERKR B K ABABBEBE B E K SDSDBFBF B F B BABABTBT B T B SKSKBUBU A U B

A MIDDLE AGE INTERLUDEA
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ROSA MUNDI SEU FULCITE ME FLORIBUSB
A CONCEIT OF MASTER GYSBRECHTA
CANON REGULAR OF SAID JODOCUS BY THE BARC
YPRES CITY CANTUQUE VirgiliusB
AND HATH OFTEN BEEN SUNGD
AT HOCK TIDE AND FESTIVALES GAVISUSB
ERAM JessidesB
-
It would seem to be a glimpse from theE
burning of Jacques du Bourg Mulay at ParisB
A D as distorted by the refraction fromF
Flemish brain to brain during the course ofG
a couple of centuriesB
-
Molay was Grand Master of the TemplarsB
when that order was suppressed inH
-
I-
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PREADMONISHETH THE ABBOT DEODAETA
-
The Lord we look to once for allI
Is the Lord we should look at all at onceB
He knows not to vary saith Saint PaulI
Nor the shadow of turning for the nonceB
See him no other than as he isB
Give both the infinitudes their dueA
Infinite mercy but I wisB
As infinite a justice tooA
Organ plagal cadenceB
As infinite a justice tooA
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II-
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ONE SINGETHE
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John Master of the Temple of GodA
Falling to sin the Unknown SinH
What he bought of Emperor AldabrodA
He sold it to Sultan SaladinH
Till caught by Pope Clement a buzzing thereJ
Hornet prince of the mad wasps' hiveK
And clipt of his wings in Paris squareJ
They bring him now to be burned aliveK
And wanteth there grace of lute orL
clavicithern ye shall say to confirmM
him who singethE
We bring John now to be burned aliveK
-
III-
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In the midst is a goodly gallows builtA
'Twixt fork and fork a stake is stuckN
But first they set divers tumbrils a tiltA
Make a trench all round with the city muckN
Inside they pile log upon log good storeL
Faggots no few blocks great and smallI
Reach a man's mid thigh no less no moreL
For they mean he should roast in the sight of allI
-
CHORUSB
-
We mean he should roast in the sight of allI
-
-
IVK
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Good sappy bavins that kindle forthwithE
Billets that blaze substantial and slowO
Pine stump split deftly dry as pithE
Larch heart that chars to a chalk white glowO
Then up they hoist me John in a chafeK
Sling him fast like a hog to scorchP
Spit in his face then leap back safeK
Sing Laudes'' and bid clap to the torchP
-
CHORUSB
-
Laus Deo who bids clap to the torchP
-
-
VK
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John of the Temple whose fame so braggedA
Is burning alive in Paris squareJ
How can he curse if his mouth is gaggedA
Or wriggle his neck with a collar thereJ
Or heave his chest which a band goes roundA
Or threat with his fist since his arms are splicedA
Or kick with his feet now his legs are boundA
Thinks John I will call upon Jesus ChristA
Here one crosseth himselfK
-
-
VIK
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Jesus Christ John had bought and soldA
Jesus Christ John had eaten and drunkQ
To him the Flesh meant silver and goldA
Salv a reverenti aE
Now it was Saviour bountiful lambR
I have roasted thee Turks though men roast meK
See thy servant the plight wherein I amR
Art thou a saviour Save thou me ''-
-
CHORUSB
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'Tis John the mocker cries Save thou me ''-
-
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VIIK
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Who maketh God's menace an idle wordA
Saith it no more means what it proclaimsB
Than a damsel's threat to her wanton birdA
For she too prattles of ugly namesB
Saith he knoweth but one thing what he knowsB
That God is good and the rest is breathE
Why else is the same styled Sharon's roseB
Once a rose ever a rose he saithE
-
CHORUSB
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O John shall yet find a rose he saithE
-
-
VIIIK
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Alack there be roses and roses JohnS
Some honied of taste like your leman's tongueD
Some bitter for why roast gaily onS
Their tree struck root in devil's dungD
When Paul once reasoned of righteousnessB
And of temperance and of judgment to comeF
Good Felix trembled he could no lessB
John snickering crook'd his wicked thumbF
-
CHORUSB
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What cometh to John of the wicked thumbF
-
-
IXB
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Ha ha John plucketh now at his roseB
To rid himself of a sorrow at heartA
Lo petal on petal fierce rays uncloseB
Anther on anther sharp spikes outstartA
And with blood for dew the bosom boilsB
And a gust of sulphur is all its smellT
And lo he is horribly in the toilsB
Of a coal black giant flower of hellT
-
CHORUSB
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What maketh heaven That maketh hellT
-
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XB
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So as John called now through the fire amainS
On the Name he had cursed with all his lifeK
To the Person he bought and sold againS
For the Face with his daily buffets rifeK
Feature by feature It took its placeB
And his voice like a mad dog's choking barkU
At the steady whole of the Judge's faceB
Died Forth John's soul flared into the darkU
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SUBJOINETH THE ABBOT DEODAETA
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God help all poor souls lost in the darkU
-
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FagotsB

Robert Browning



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