Incantation. From The New Tragedy Of "the Brunswickers." Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AB C C D EEFFGG HH IIJJIIBBKKLLLBBMMLBN NBBAAOPQM II RPBBBBPPLLPPBBBSBBPP IIPPPSCENE Penenden Plain In the middle a caldron boiling Thunder | A |
Enter three Brunswickers | B |
- | |
st Bruns Thrice hath scribbling Kenyon scrawled | C |
- | |
d Bruns Once hath fool Newcastle bawled | C |
- | |
d Bruns Bexley snores 'tis time 'tis time | D |
- | |
st Bruns Round about the caldron go | E |
In the poisonous nonsense throw | E |
Bigot spite that long hath grown | F |
Like a toad within a stone | F |
Sweltering in the heart of Scott | G |
Boil we in the Brunswick pot | G |
- | |
All Dribble dribble nonsense dribble | H |
Eldon talk and Kenyon scribble | H |
- | |
d Bruns Slaver from Newcastle's quill | I |
In the noisome mess distil | I |
Brimming high our Brunswick broth | J |
Both with venom and with froth | J |
Mix the brains tho' apt to hash ill | I |
Being scant of Lord Mountcashel | I |
With that malty stuff which Chandos | B |
Drivels as no other man does | B |
Catch i e if catch you can | K |
One idea spick and span | K |
From my Lord of Salisbury | L |
One idea tho' it be | L |
Smaller than the happy flea | L |
Which his sire in sonnet terse | B |
Wedded to immortal verse | B |
Tho' to rob the son is sin | M |
Put his one idea in | M |
And to keep it company | L |
Let that conjuror Winchelsea | B |
Drop but half another there | N |
If he hath so much to spare | N |
Dreams of murders and of arsons | B |
Hatched in heads of Irish parsons | B |
Bring from every hole and corner | A |
Where ferocious priests like Horner | A |
Purely for religious good | O |
Cry aloud for Papist's blood | P |
Blood for Wells and such old women | Q |
At their ease to wade and swim in | M |
- | |
All Dribble dribble nonsense dribble | I |
Bexley talk and Kenyon scribble | I |
- | |
d Bruns Now the charm begin to brew | R |
Sisters sisters add thereto | P |
Scraps of Lethbridge's old speeches | B |
Mixt with leather from his breeches | B |
Rinsings of old Bexley's brains | B |
Thickened if you'll take the pains | B |
With that pulp which rags create | P |
In their middle nympha state | P |
Ere like insects frail and sunny | L |
Forth they wing abroad as money | L |
There the Hell broth we've enchanted | P |
Now but one thing more is wanted | P |
Squeeze o'er all that Orange juice | B |
Castlereagh keeps corkt for use | B |
Which to work the better spell is | B |
Colored deep with blood of | S |
Blood of powers far more various | B |
Even than that of Januarius | B |
Since so great a charm hangs o'er it | P |
England's parsons bow before it | P |
All Dribble dribble nonsense dribble | I |
Bexley talk and Kenyon scribble | I |
d Bruns Cool it now with 's blood | P |
So the charm is firm and good | P |
exeunt | P |
Thomas Moore
(1)
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