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 | The Works of Thomas Love Peacock |  |
Fytte the First
Little John he sat in a lordly hall,
Mid spoils of the Church of old:
And he saw a shadowing on the wall,
That made his blood run cold.
Mid spoils of the Church of old:
And he saw a shadowing on the wall,
That made his blood run cold.
He saw the dawn of a coming day,
Dim-glimmering through the gloom:
He saw the coronet pass away
From the ancient halls where it then held sway,
And the mitre its place resume.
Dim-glimmering through the gloom:
He saw the coronet pass away
From the ancient halls where it then held sway,
And the mitre its place resume.
He saw, the while, through the holy pile
The incense vapour spread;
He saw the poor, at the Abbey door,
Receiving their daily bread.
The incense vapour spread;
He saw the poor, at the Abbey door,
Receiving their daily bread.
He saw on the wall the shadows cast
Of sacred sisters three:
He blessed them not, as they flitted past:
But above them all he hated the last,
For that was Charitie.
Of sacred sisters three:
He blessed them not, as they flitted past:
But above them all he hated the last,
For that was Charitie.
Now down from its shelf a book he bore,
And characters he drew,
And a spell he muttered o'er and o'er,
Till before him cleft was the marble floor,
And a murky fiend came through.
And characters he drew,
And a spell he muttered o'er and o'er,
255
And a murky fiend came through.
“Now take thee a torch in thy red right hand,”
Little John to the fiend he saith:
“And let it serve as a signal brand,
To raise the rabble, throughout the land,
Against the Catholic Faith.”
Little John to the fiend he saith:
“And let it serve as a signal brand,
To raise the rabble, throughout the land,
Against the Catholic Faith.”
Straight through the porch, with brandished torch,
The fiend went joyously out:
And a posse of parsons, established by law,
Sprang up, when the lurid flame they saw,
To head the rabble rout.
The fiend went joyously out:
And a posse of parsons, established by law,
Sprang up, when the lurid flame they saw,
To head the rabble rout.
And braw Scots Presbyters nimbly sped
In the train of the muckle black de'il;
And, as the wild infection spread,
The Protestant Hydra's every head
Sent forth a yell of zeal.
In the train of the muckle black de'il;
And, as the wild infection spread,
The Protestant Hydra's every head
Sent forth a yell of zeal.
And pell-mell went all forms of dissent,
Each beating its scriptural drum;
Wesleyans and Whitfieldites followed as friends,
And whatever in 'onian and 'arian ends,
Et omne quod exit in hum.
Each beating its scriptural drum;
Wesleyans and Whitfieldites followed as friends,
And whatever in 'onian and 'arian ends,
Et omne quod exit in hum.
And in bonfires burned ten thousand Guys,
With caricatures of the pious and wise,
Mid shouts of goblin glee,
And such a clamour rent the skies,
That all buried lunatics seemed to rise,
And hold a Jubilee.
With caricatures of the pious and wise,
Mid shouts of goblin glee,
And such a clamour rent the skies,
That all buried lunatics seemed to rise,
And hold a Jubilee.
| The Works of Thomas Love Peacock | |