The Fairy Temple; Or, Oberon's Chapel Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BC DDEEFF A GGHHIIJJKKLLMMNOPPPP PEQRRSSPPPPRMTUPP VVPP UWPPMRXYPPPPEERRZZA2 A2A2A2DDA2A2PPPPA2A2 A2A2A2PPPPFQB2B2A2A2 B2B2PPPPA2A2PPMA2PPA 2A2PPB2A2MPC2C2PPPPR RPPA2A2A2A2D2E2PPPPP PPPA2A2PPA2A2

THE FAIRY TEMPLE OR OBERON'S CHAPELA
-
DEDICATED TO MR JOHN MERRIFIELDB
COUNSELLOR AT LAWC
-
RARE TEMPLES THOU HAST SEEN I KNOWD
AND RICH FOR IN AND OUTWARD SHOWD
SURVEY THIS CHAPEL BUILT ALONEE
WITHOUT OR LIME OR WOOD OR STONEE
THEN SAY IF ONE THOU'ST SEEN MORE FINEF
THAN THIS THE FAIRIES' ONCE NOW THINEF
-
THE TEMPLEA
-
A way enchaced with glass and beadsG
There is that to the Chapel leadsG
Whose structure for his holy restH
Is here the Halcyon's curious nestH
Into the which who looks shall seeI
His Temple of IdolatryI
Where he of god heads has such storeJ
As Rome's Pantheon had not moreJ
His house of Rimmon this he callsK
Girt with small bones instead of wallsK
First in a niche more black than jetL
His idol cricket there is setL
Then in a polish'd oval byM
There stands his idol beetle flyM
Next in an arch akin to thisN
His idol canker seated isO
Then in a round is placed by theseP
His golden god CantharidesP
So that where'er ye look ye seeP
No capital no cornice freeP
Or frieze from this fine fripperyP
Now this the Fairies would have knownE
Theirs is a mixt religionQ
And some have heard the elves it callR
Part Pagan part PapisticalR
If unto me all tongues were grantedS
I could not speak the saints here paintedS
Saint Tit Saint Nit Saint Is Saint ItisP
Who 'gainst Mab's state placed here right isP
Saint Will o' th' Wisp of no great bignessP
But alias call'd here FATUUS IGNISP
Saint Frip Saint Trip Saint Fill Saint FillyR
Neither those other saint ships will IM
Here go about for to reciteT
Their number almost infiniteU
Which one by one here set down areP
In this most curious calendarP
-
First at the entrance of the gateV
A little puppet priest doth waitV
Who squeaks to all the comers thereP
'Favour your tongues who enter hereP
'Pure hands bring hither without stain '-
A second pules 'Hence hence profane '-
Hard by i' th' shell of half a nutU
The holy water there is putW
A little brush of squirrels' hairsP
Composed of odd not even pairsP
Stands in the platter or close byM
To purge the fairy familyR
Near to the altar stands the priestX
There offering up the holy gristY
Ducking in mood and perfect tenseP
With much good do't him reverenceP
The altar is not here four squareP
Nor in a form triangularP
Nor made of glass or wood or stoneE
But of a little transverse boneE
Which boys and bruckel'd children callR
Playing for points and pins cockallR
Whose linen drapery is a thinZ
Sub ile and ductile codling's skinZ
Which o'er the board is smoothly spreadA2
With little seal work damaskedA2
The fringe that circumbinds it tooA2
Is spangle work of trembling dewA2
Which gently gleaming makes a showD
Like frost work glitt'ring on the snowD
Upon this fetuous board doth standA2
Something for shew bread and at handA2
Just in the middle of the altarP
Upon an end the Fairy psalterP
Graced with the trout flies' curious wingsP
Which serve for watchet ribboningsP
Now we must know the elves are ledA2
Right by the Rubric which they readA2
And if report of them be trueA2
They have their text for what they doA2
Ay and their book of canons tooA2
And as Sir Thomas Parson tellsP
They have their book of articlesP
And if that Fairy knight not liesP
They have their book of homiliesP
And other Scriptures that designF
A short but righteous disciplineQ
The bason stands the board uponB2
To take the free oblationB2
A little pin dust which they holdA2
More precious than we prize our goldA2
Which charity they give to manyB2
Poor of the parish if there's anyB2
Upon the ends of these neat railsP
Hatch'd with the silver light of snailsP
The elves in formal manner fixP
Two pure and holy candlesticksP
In either which a tall small bentA2
Burns for the altar's ornamentA2
For sanctity they have to theseP
Their curious copes and surplicesP
Of cleanest cobweb hanging byM
In their religious vesteryA2
They have their ash pans and their broomsP
To purge the chapel and the roomsP
Their many mumbling mass priests hereA2
And many a dapper choristerA2
Their ush'ring vergers here likewiseP
Their canons and their chaunteriesP
Of cloister monks they have enowB2
Ay and their abbey lubbers tooA2
And if their legend do not lieM
They much affect the papacyP
And since the last is dead there's hopeC2
Elve Boniface shall next be PopeC2
They have their cups and chalicesP
Their pardons and indulgencesP
Their beads of nits bells books and waxP
Candles forsooth and other knacksP
Their holy oil their fasting spittleR
Their sacred salt here not a littleR
Dry chips old shoes rags grease and bonesP
Beside their fumigationsP
Many a trifle too and trinketA2
And for what use scarce man would think itA2
Next then upon the chanter's sideA2
An apple's core is hung up driedA2
With rattling kernels which is rungD2
To call to morn and even songE2
The saint to which the most he praysP
And offers incense nights and daysP
The lady of the lobster isP
Whose foot pace he doth stroke and kissP
And humbly chives of saffron bringsP
For his most cheerful offeringsP
When after these he's paid his vowsP
He lowly to the altar bowsP
And then he dons the silk worm's shedA2
Like a Turk's turban on his headA2
And reverently departeth thenceP
Hid in a cloud of frankincenseP
And by the glow worm's light well guidedA2
Goes to the Feast that's now providedA2

Robert Herrick



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