Alciphron: A Fragment. Letter Iv Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDDEEFFGHIIJJKKLL MMNIOOPPQQQPPRRPPIIS SSTTUU VVWWXXPPYYLLZZPPA2A2 IIB2B2C2C2PPPPPPD2D2 PPPPE2E2PPF2G2 H2H2PPPPPPVVVI2I2YYJ 2K2 RRIIPPVVL2L2L2M2M2N2 O2PPPP PPPPP2P2Q2Q2ZZA2A2R2 R2S2S2T2T2PP U2U2PPPPPPPPVVV2V2M2 M2W2X2B2B2Y2Y2B2B2JJ B2B2PPMMPPP PPL2L2IIZ2Z2JJJB2B2A 3A3IIB3B3UUC3C3B2B2B 2PPPPFROM ORCUS HIGH PRIEST OF MEMPHIS TO DECIUS THE PRAETORIAN PREFECT | A |
- | |
- | |
Rejoice my friend rejoice the youthful Chief | B |
Of that light Sect which mocks at all belief | B |
And gay and godless makes the present hour | C |
Its only heaven is now within our power | C |
Smooth impious school not all the weapons aimed | D |
At priestly creeds since first a creed was framed | D |
E'er struck so deep as that sly dart they wield | E |
The Bacchant's pointed spear in laughing flowers concealed | E |
And oh 'twere victory to this heart as sweet | F |
As any thou canst boast even when the feet | F |
Of thy proud war steed wade thro' Christian blood | G |
To wrap this scoffer in Faith's blinding hood | H |
And bring him tamed and prostrate to implore | I |
The vilest gods even Egypt's saints adore | I |
What do these sages think to them alone | J |
The key of this world's happiness is known | J |
That none but they who make such proud parade | K |
Of Pleasure's smiling favors win the maid | K |
Or that Religion keeps no secret place | L |
No niche in her dark fanes for Love to grace | L |
- | |
Fools did they know how keen the zest that's given | M |
To earthly joy when seasoned well with heaven | M |
How Piety's grave mask improves the hue | N |
Of Pleasure's laughing features half seen thro' | I |
And how the Priest set aptly within reach | O |
Of two rich worlds traffics for bliss with each | O |
Would they not Decius thou whom the ancient tie | P |
'Twixt Sword and Altar makes our best ally | P |
Would they not change their creed their craft for ours | Q |
Leave the gross daylight joys that in their bowers | Q |
Languish with too much sun like o'er blown flowers | Q |
For the veiled loves the blisses undisplayed | P |
That slyly lurk within the Temple's shade | P |
And 'stead of haunting the trim Garden's school | R |
Where cold Philosophy usurps a rule | R |
Like the pale moon's o'er passion's heaving tide | P |
Till Pleasure's self is chilled by Wisdom's pride | P |
Be taught by us quit shadows for the true | I |
Substantial joys we sager Priests pursue | I |
Who far too wise to theorize on bliss | S |
Or pleasure's substance for its shade to miss | S |
Preach other worlds but live for only this | S |
Thanks to the well paid Mystery round us flung | T |
Which like its type the golden cloud that hung | T |
O'er Jupiter's love couch its shade benign | U |
Round human frailty wraps a veil divine | U |
- | |
Still less should they presume weak wits that they | V |
Alone despise the craft of us who pray | V |
Still less their creedless vanity deceive | W |
With the fond thought that we who pray believe | W |
Believe Apis forbid forbid it all | X |
Ye monster Gods before whose shrines we fall | X |
Deities framed in jest as if to try | P |
How far gross Man can vulgarize the sky | P |
How far the same low fancy that combines | Y |
Into a drove of brutes yon zodiac's signs | Y |
And turns that Heaven itself into a place | L |
Of sainted sin and deified disgrace | L |
Can bring Olympus even to shame more deep | Z |
Stock it with things that earth itself holds cheap | Z |
Fish flesh and fowl the kitchen's sacred brood | P |
Which Egypt keeps for worship not for food | P |
All worthy idols of a Faith that sees | A2 |
In dogs cats owls and apes divinities | A2 |
- | |
Believe oh Decius thou who feel'st no care | I |
For things divine beyond the soldier's share | I |
Who takes on trust the faith for which he bleeds | B2 |
A good fierce God to swear by all he needs | B2 |
Little canst thou whose creed around thee hangs | C2 |
Loose as thy summer war cloak guess the pangs | C2 |
Of loathing and self scorn with which a heart | P |
Stubborn as mine is acts the zealot's part | P |
The deep and dire disgust with which I wade | P |
Thro' the foul juggling of this holy trade | P |
This mud profound of mystery where the feet | P |
At every step sink deeper in deceit | P |
Oh many a time when mid the Temple's blaze | D2 |
O'er prostrate fools the sacred cist I raise | D2 |
Did I not keep still proudly in my mind | P |
The power this priestcraft gives me o'er mankind | P |
A lever of more might in skilful hand | P |
To move this world than Archimede e'er planned | P |
I should in vengeance of the shame I feel | E2 |
At my own mockery crush the slaves that kneel | E2 |
Besotted round and like that kindred breed | P |
Of reverend well drest crocodiles they feed | P |
At famed Arsino make my keepers bless | F2 |
With their last throb my sharp fanged Holiness | G2 |
- | |
Say is it to be borne that scoffers vain | H2 |
Of their own freedom from the altar's chain | H2 |
Should mock thus all that thou thy blood hast sold | P |
And I my truth pride freedom to uphold | P |
It must not be think'st thou that Christian sect | P |
Whose followers quick as broken waves erect | P |
Their crests anew and swell into a tide | P |
That threats to sweep away our shrines of pride | P |
Think'st thou with all their wondrous spells even they | V |
Would triumph thus had not the constant play | V |
Of Wit's resistless archery cleared their way | V |
That mocking spirit worst of all the foes | I2 |
Our solemn fraud our mystic mummery knows | I2 |
Whose wounding flash thus ever 'mong the signs | Y |
Of a fast falling creed prelusive shines | Y |
Threatening such change as do the awful freaks | J2 |
Of summer lightning ere the tempest breaks | K2 |
- | |
But to my point a youth of this vain school | R |
But one whom Doubt itself hath failed to cool | R |
Down to that freezing point where Priests despair | I |
Of any spark from the altar catching there | I |
Hath some nights since it was me thinks the night | P |
That followed the full Moon's great annual rite | P |
Thro' the dark winding ducts that downward stray | V |
To these earth hidden temples tracked his way | V |
Just at that hour when round the Shrine and me | L2 |
The choir of blooming nymphs thou long'st to see | L2 |
Sing their last night hymn in the Sanctuary | L2 |
The clangor of the marvellous Gate that stands | M2 |
At the Well's lowest depth which none but hands | M2 |
Of new untaught adventurers from above | N2 |
Who know not the safe path e'er dare to move | O2 |
Gave signal that a foot profane was nigh | P |
'Twas the Greek youth who by that morning's sky | P |
Had been observed curiously wandering round | P |
The mighty fanes of our sepulchral ground | P |
- | |
Instant the Initiate's Trials were prepared | P |
The Fire Air Water all that Orpheus dared | P |
That Plato that the bright haired Samian past | P |
With trembling hope to come to what at last | P |
Go ask the dupes of Priestcraft question him | P2 |
Who mid terrific sounds and spectres dim | P2 |
Walks at Eleusis ask of those who brave | Q2 |
The dazzling miracles of Mithra's Cave | Q2 |
With its seven starry gates ask all who keep | Z |
Those terrible night mysteries where they weep | Z |
And howl sad dirges to the answering breeze | A2 |
O'er their dead Gods their mortal Deities | A2 |
Amphibious hybrid things that died as men | R2 |
Drowned hanged empaled to rise as gods again | R2 |
Ask them what mighty secret lurks below | S2 |
This seven fold mystery can they tell thee No | S2 |
Gravely they keep that only secret well | T2 |
And fairly kept that they have none to tell | T2 |
And duped themselves console their humbled pride | P |
By duping thenceforth all mankind beside | P |
- | |
And such the advance in fraud since Orpheus' time | U2 |
That earliest master of our craft sublime | U2 |
So many minor Mysteries imps of fraud | P |
From the great Orphic Egg have winged abroad | P |
That still to uphold our Temple's ancient boast | P |
And seem most holy we must cheat the most | P |
Work the best miracles wrap nonsense round | P |
In pomp and darkness till it seems profound | P |
Play on the hopes the terrors of mankind | P |
With changeful skill and make the human mind | P |
Like our own Sanctuary where no ray | V |
But by the Priest's permission wins its way | V |
Where thro' the gloom as wave our wizard rods | V2 |
Monsters at will are conjured into Gods | V2 |
While Reason like a grave faced mummy stands | M2 |
With her arms swathed in hieroglyphic bands | M2 |
But chiefly in that skill with which we use | W2 |
Man's wildest passions for Religion's views | X2 |
Yoking them to her car like fiery steeds | B2 |
Lies the main art in which our craft succeeds | B2 |
And oh be blest ye men of yore whose toil | Y2 |
Hath for our use scooped out from Egypt's soil | Y2 |
This hidden Paradise this mine of fanes | B2 |
Gardens and palaces where Pleasure reigns | B2 |
In a rich sunless empire of her own | J |
With all earth's luxuries lighting up her throne | J |
A realm for mystery made which undermines | B2 |
The Nile itself and 'neath the Twelve Great Shrines | B2 |
That keep Initiation's holy rite | P |
Spreads its long labyrinths of unearthly light | P |
A light that knows no change its brooks that run | M |
Too deep for day its gardens without sun | M |
Where soul and sense by turns are charmed surprised | P |
And all that bard or prophet e'er devised | P |
For man's Elysium priests have realized | P |
- | |
Here at this moment all his trials past | P |
And heart and nerve unshrinking to the last | P |
Our new Initiate roves as yet left free | L2 |
To wander thro' this realm of mystery | L2 |
Feeding on such illusions as prepare | I |
The soul like mist o'er waterfalls to wear | I |
All shapes and lines at Fancy's varying will | Z2 |
Thro' every shifting aspect vapor still | Z2 |
Vague glimpses of the Future vistas shown | J |
By scenic skill into that world unknown | J |
Which saints and sinners claim alike their own | J |
And all those other witching wildering arts | B2 |
Illusions terrors that make human hearts | B2 |
Ay even the wisest and the hardiest quail | A3 |
To any goblin throned behind a veil | A3 |
Yes such the spells shall haunt his eye his ear | I |
Mix wild his night dreams form his atmosphere | I |
Till if our Sage be not tamed down at length | B3 |
His wit his wisdom shorn of all their strength | B3 |
Like Phrygian priests in honor of the shrine | U |
If he become not absolutely mine | U |
Body and soul and like the tame decoy | C3 |
Which wary hunters of wild doves employ | C3 |
Draw converts also lure his brother wits | B2 |
To the dark cage where his own spirit flits | B2 |
And give us if not saints good hypocrites | B2 |
If I effect not this then be it said | P |
The ancient spirit of our craft hath fled | P |
Gone with that serpent god the Cross hath chased | P |
To hiss its soul out in the Theban waste | P |
Thomas Moore
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
<< Odes Of Anacreon - Ode Xxxix Poem
Lines On The Departure Of Lord Castlereagh And Stewart For The Continent Poem>>
Write your comment about Alciphron: A Fragment. Letter Iv poem by Thomas Moore
Best Poems of Thomas Moore