An Epic Poem, in Twenty Books XII
Amidst this din and revelry throughout the city roaring,The silver moon rose silently, and high in heaven soaring;Prior Hyacinth was fervently upon his knees adoring:"Towards my precious patroness this conduct sure unfair is;I cannot think, I must confess, what keeps the dignitariesAnd our good mayor away, unless some business them contraries."He puts his long white mantle on and forth the prior sallies--(His pious thoughts were bent upon good deeds and not on malice):Heavens! how the banquet lights they shone about the mayor's palace!
About the hall the scullions ran with meats both and fresh andpotted;The pages came with cup and can, all for the guests allotted;Ah, how they jeered that good fat man as up the stairs he trotted!
He entered in the ante-rooms where sat the mayor's court in;He found a pack of drunken grooms a-dicing and a-sporting;The horrid wine and 'bacco fumes, they set the prior a-snorting!The prior thought he'd speak about their sins before he went hence,And lustily began to shout of sin and of repentance;The rogues, they kicked the prior out before he'd done a sentence!
And having got no portion small of buffeting and tussling,At last he reached the banquet-hall, where sat the mayora-guzzling,And by his side his lady tall dressed out in white sprig muslin.
Around the table in a ring the guests were drinking heavy;They'd drunk the church, and drunk the king, and the army and thenavy;In fact they'd toasted everything. The prior said, "God save ye!"
The mayor cried, "Bring a silver cup--there's one upon the beaufét;And, Prior, have the venison up--it's capital rechauffé.And so, Sir Priest, you've come to sup? And pray you, how's SaintSophy?"The prior's face quite red was grown, with horror and with anger;He flung the proffered goblet down--it made a hideous clangor;And 'gan a-preaching with a frown--he was a fierce haranguer.
He tried the mayor and aldermen--they all set up a-jeering:He tried the common-councilmen--they too began a-sneering;He turned towards the may'ress then, and hoped to get a hearing.He knelt and seized her dinner-dress, made of the muslin snowy,"To church, to church, my sweet mistress!" he cried; "the way I'llshow ye."Alas, the lady-mayoress fell back as drunk as Chloe!
Words in this poem
- amidst prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- patroness n.
- A female patron or helper. [Cf. F. patronnesse.]
- contraries n.
- Propositions which directly and destructively contradict each other, but of which the falsehood of one does not establish the truth of the other. [Pl. of Contrary, n.]
- horrid a.
- Rough; rugged; bristling. [L. horridus. See Horror, and cf. Ordure.]
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- lustily adv.
- In a lusty or vigorous manner.
- buffeting n.
- A striking with the hand.
- venison n.
- Beasts of the chase. Fabyan. [OE. veneison, veneson, venison, OF. veneison, F. venaison, L. venatio hunting, the chase, game, fr. venari, p. p. venatus, to hunt; perhaps akin to OHG. weidin,]
- clangor n.
- A sharp, harsh, ringing sound. [L., fr. clangere. See Clang, v. t.]
- haranguer n.
- One who harangues, or is fond of haranguing; a declaimer.
- snowy a.
- White like snow.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
An Epic Poem, in Twenty Books XII is in the public domain. This text is taken from Ballads, Project Gutenberg ebook #2732; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: William Makepeace Thackeray, An Epic Poem, in Twenty Books XII, in Ballads (1849–1855), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #2732, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/thackeray-ballads/an-epic-poem-in-twenty-books-xii.html, id L10400.
Form and metre
An Epic Poem, in Twenty Books XII is 41 lines in 7 stanzas. The metre is iambic heptameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%). 89% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 12.9 syllables. 30 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 15% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic heptameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AAABBBBCC roaringA · soaringA · adoringA · isB · dignitariesB · contrariesB · salliesB · maliceC · palaceC
- 2 -AAA and · pottedA · allottedA · trottedA
- 3 -AABBB in · sportingA · snortingA · henceB · repentanceB · sentenceB
- 5 -A-A heavy · theA · navy · yeA
- 6 ----AA- beaufét · rechauffé · saint · sophy · angerA · clangorA · haranguer
- 7 AAAB--B jeeringA · sneeringA · hearingA · snowyB · i'll · ye · chloeB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic heptameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Amidst this din and revelry throughout the city roaring, | 14 | ˘/···/˘···/˘/˘ |
| The silver moon rose silently, and high in heaven soaring; | 13 | ·/˘··/˘···//˘ |
| Prior Hyacinth was fervently upon his knees adoring: | 14 | //˘··/˘····˘/˘ |
| "Towards my precious patroness this conduct sure unfair is; | 13 | ··/˘/˘·˘/·//· |
| I cannot think, I must confess, what keeps the dignitaries | 15 | ·/˘···˘/···/˘·˘ |
| And our good mayor away, unless some business them contraries." | 15 | ·/·/˘˘/···/˘·/˘ |
| He puts his long white mantle on and forth the prior sallies-- | 14 | ·····/˘····//˘ |
| (His pious thoughts were bent upon good deeds and not on malice): | 14 | ·/··········/˘ |
| Heavens! how the banquet lights they shone about the mayor's palace! | 16 | /˘··/˘······/˘/˘ |
| About the hall the scullions ran with meats both and fresh and | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| potted; | 2 | /˘ |
| The pages came with cup and can, all for the guests allotted; | 15 | ·/˘·········˘/˘ |
| Ah, how they jeered that good fat man as up the stairs he trotted! | 15 | ·············/˘ |
| He entered in the ante-rooms where sat the mayor's court in; | 15 | ·/˘··/˘····/˘·· |
| He found a pack of drunken grooms a-dicing and a-sporting; | 15 | ·····/˘··/˘··/˘ |
| The horrid wine and 'bacco fumes, they set the prior a-snorting! | 15 | ·/˘········/·/˘ |
| The prior thought he'd speak about their sins before he went hence, | 14 | ·/············ |
| And lustily began to shout of sin and of repentance; | 15 | ·/˘˘˘/······˘/˘ |
| The rogues, they kicked the prior out before he'd done a sentence! | 14 | ·····/······/˘ |
| And having got no portion small of buffeting and tussling, | 15 | ·/˘··/˘··/˘˘·/˘ |
| At last he reached the banquet-hall, where sat the mayor | 13 | ·····/˘····/˘ |
| a-guzzling, | 4 | ·/˘˘ |
| And by his side his lady tall dressed out in white sprig muslin. | 15 | ·····/˘······/˘ |
| Around the table in a ring the guests were drinking heavy; | 15 | ···/˘······/˘/˘ |
| They'd drunk the church, and drunk the king, and the army and the | 14 | ··········/˘·· |
| navy; | 2 | /˘ |
| In fact they'd toasted everything. The prior said, "God save ye!" | 14 | ···/˘/˘··/···· |
| The mayor cried, "Bring a silver cup--there's one upon the beaufét; | 16 | ·/˘···/˘········ |
| And, Prior, have the venison up--it's capital rechauffé. | 12 | ·/··/˘··/˘·· |
| And so, Sir Priest, you've come to sup? And pray you, how's Saint | 13 | ············· |
| Sophy?" | 2 | /˘ |
| The prior's face quite red was grown, with horror and with anger; | 14 | ·/······/˘··/˘ |
| He flung the proffered goblet down--it made a hideous clangor; | 15 | ···/˘/˘····/˘/˘ |
| And 'gan a-preaching with a frown--he was a fierce haranguer. | 15 | ···/˘·······˘/˘ |
| He tried the mayor and aldermen--they all set up a-jeering: | 15 | ···/˘·/˘·····/˘ |
| He tried the common-councilmen--they too began a-sneering; | 15 | ···/˘/˘/··˘/·/˘ |
| He turned towards the may'ress then, and hoped to get a hearing. | 14 | ············/˘ |
| He knelt and seized her dinner-dress, made of the muslin snowy, | 15 | ·····/˘····/˘/˘ |
| "To church, to church, my sweet mistress!" he cried; "the way I'll | 13 | ······/˘····· |
| show ye." | 2 | ·· |
| Alas, the lady-mayoress fell back as drunk as Chloe! | 15 | ˘/·/˘/˘˘·····/˘ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.