The Phantom Curate. A Fable Poem Rhyme Scheme

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A BISHOP once I will not name his see	A
Annoyed his clergy in the mode conventional	B
From pulpit shackles never set them free	A
And found a sin where sin was unintentional	B
All pleasures ended in abuse auricular	A
The Bishop was so terribly particular	A
	-
Though on the whole a wise and upright man	C
He sought to make of human pleasures clearances	D
And form his priests on that much lauded plan	C
Which pays undue attention to appearances	E
He couldn't do good deeds without a psalm in 'em	F
Although in truth he bore away the palm in 'em	F
	-
Enraged to find a deacon at a dance	G
Or catch a curate at some mild frivolity	A
He sought by open censure to enhance	G
Their dread of joining harmless social jollity	A
Yet he enjoyed a fact of notoriety	A
The ordinary pleasures of society	A
	-
One evening sitting at a pantomime	H
Forbidden treat to those who stood in fear of him	I
Roaring at jokes sans metre sense or rhyme	H
He turned and saw immediately in rear of him	I
His peace of mind upsetting and annoying it	A
A curate also heartily enjoying it	A
	-
Again 't was Christmas Eve and to enhance	G
His children's pleasure in their harmless rollicking	J
He like a good old fellow stood to dance	G
When something checked the current of his frolicking	J
That curate with a maid he treated lover ly	K
Stood up and figured with him in the Coverley	K
	-
Once yielding to an universal choice	L
The company's demand was an emphatic one	M
For the old Bishop had a glorious voice	L
In a quartet he joined an operatic one	M
Harmless enough though ne'er a word of grace in it	A
When lo that curate came and took the bass in it	A
	-
One day when passing through a quiet street	A
He stopped awhile and joined a Punch's gathering	J
And chuckled more than solemn folk think meet	A
To see that gentleman his Judy lathering	J
And heard as Punch was being treated penalty	A
That phantom curate laughing all hyaenally	K
	-
Now at a picnic 'mid fair golden curls	N
Bright eyes straw hats bottines that fit amazingly	K
A croquet bout is planned by all the girls	N
And he consenting speaks of croquet praisingly	K
But suddenly declines to play at all in it	A
The curate fiend has come to take a ball in it	A
	-
Next when at quiet sea side village freed	A
From cares episcopal and ties monarchical	K
He grows his beard and smokes his fragrant weed	A
In manner anything but hierarchical	K
He sees and fixes an unearthly stare on it	A
That curate's face with half a yard of hair on it	A
	-
At length he gave a charge and spake this word	A
Vicars your curates to enjoyment urge ye may	O
To check their harmless pleasuring's absurd	A
What laymen do without reproach my clergy may	O
He spake and lo at this concluding word of him	I
The curate vanished no one since has heard of him	I

William Schwenck Gilbert

The Phantom Curate. A Fable Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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