Analysis of A Fairy Tale In The Ancient English Style
Thomas Parnell 1679 (Dublin) – 1718
In Britain's Isle and Arthur's days,
When Midnight Faeries daunc'd the Maze,
Liv'd Edwin of the Green;
Edwin, I wis, a gentle Youth,
Endow'd with Courage, Sense and Truth,
Tho' badly Shap'd he been.
His Mountain Back mote well be said
To measure heigth against his Head,
And lift it self above:
Yet spite of all that Nature did
To make his uncouth Form forbid,
This Creature dar'd to love.
He felt the Charms of Edith's Eyes,
Nor wanted Hope to gain the Prize,
Cou'd Ladies took within;
But one Sir Topaz dress'd with Art,
And, if a Shape cou'd win a Heart,
He had a Shape to win.
Edwin (if right I read my Song)
With slighted Passion pac'd along
All in the Moony Light:
'Twas near an old enchaunted Court,
Where sportive Faeries made Resort
To revel out the Night.
His Heart was drear, his Hope was cross'd,
'Twas late, 'twas farr, the Path was lost
That reach'd the Neighbour-Town;
With weary Steps he quits the Shades,
Resolv'd the darkling Dome he treads,
And drops his Limbs adown.
But scant he lays him on the Floor,
When hollow Winds remove the Door,
A trembling rocks the Ground:
And (well I ween to count aright)
At once an hundred Tapers light
On all the Walls around.
Now sounding Tongues assail his Ear,
Now sounding Feet approachen near,
And now the Sounds encrease:
And from the Corner where he lay
He sees a Train profusely gay
Come pranckling o'er the Place.
But (trust me Gentles!) never yet
Was dight a Masquing half so neat,
Or half so rich before;
The Country lent the sweet Perfumes,
The Sea the Pearl, the Sky the Plumes,
The Town its silken Store.
Now whilst he gaz'd, a Gallant drest
In flaunting Robes above the rest,
With awfull Accent cry'd;
What Mortall of a wretched Mind,
Whose Sighs infect the balmy Wind,
Has here presum'd to hide?
At this the Swain whose vent'rous Soul
No Fears of Magick Art controul,
Advanc'd in open sight;
‘Nor have I Cause of Dreed, he said,
‘Who view by no Presumption led
‘Your Revels of the Night.
‘'Twas Grief, for Scorn of faithful Love,
‘Which made my Steps unweeting rove
‘Amid the nightly Dew.
'Tis well, the Gallant crys again,
We Faeries never injure Men
Who dare to tell us true.
Exalt thy Love-dejected Heart,
Be mine the Task, or e'er we part,
To make thee Grief resign;
Now take the Pleasure of thy Chaunce;
Whilst I with Mab my part'ner daunce,
Be little Mable thine.
He spoke, and all a sudden there
Light Musick floats in wanton Air;
The Monarch leads the Queen:
The rest their Faerie Partners found,
And Mable trimly tript the Ground
With Edwin of the Green.
The Dauncing past, the Board was laid,
And siker such a Feast was made
As Heart and Lip desire;
Withouten Hands the Dishes fly,
The Glasses with a Wish come nigh,
And with a Wish retire.
But now to please the Faerie King,
Full ev'ry deal they laugh and sing,
And antick Feats devise;
Some wind and tumble like an Ape,
And other-some transmute their Shape
In Edwin's wond'ring Eyes.
'Till one at last that Robin hight,
(Renown'd for pinching Maids by Night)
Has hent him up aloof;
And full against the Beam he flung,
Where by the Back the Youth he hung
To spraul unneath the Roof.
From thence, 'Reverse my Charm, he crys,
'And let it fairely now suffice
'The Gambol has been shown.
But Oberon answers with a Smile,
Content thee Edwin for a while,
The Vantage is thine own.
Here ended all the Phantome-play;
They smelt the fresh Approach of Day,
And heard a Cock to crow;
The whirling Wind that bore the Crowd
Has clap'd the Door, and whistled loud,
To warn them all to go.
Then screaming all at once they fly,
And all at once the Tapers dy;
Poor Edwin falls to Floor;
Forlorn his State, and dark the Place,
Was never Wight in sike a Case
Through all the Land before.
But soon as Dan Apollo rose,
Full Jolly Creature home he goes,
He feels his Back the less;
His honest Tongue and steady Mind
Han rid him of the Lump behind
Which made him want Success.
With lusty livelyhed he talks,
He seems a dauncing as he walks,
His Story soon took wind;
And beautious Edith sees the Youth,
Endow'd with Courage, Sense and Truth,
Without a Bunch behind.
The Story told, Sir Topaz mov'd,
(The Youth of Edith erst approv'd)
To see the Revel Scene:
At close of Eve he leaves his home,
And wends to find the ruin'd Dome
All on the gloomy Plain.
As there he bides, it so befell,
The Wind came rustling down a Dell,
Scheme Text too long Poetic Form Metre 01010101 111101 110101 10110101 01110101 110111 11011111 11010111 011101 11111101 11111101 110111 1101111 11011101 110101 1111111 01011101 110111 10111111 11010101 10011 111111 111101 110101 11111111 11110111 11011 11011101 0101111 01111 11111101 11010101 0100101 0111111 11110101 110101 11010111 110111 01011 01010111 11010101 111001 11110101 1101111 111101 01010101 01010101 011101 11110101 01010101 11011 1110101 11010101 110111 1101111 111111 010101 11111111 11110101 110101 11111101 111111 010101 11010101 1110101 111111 01110101 110111011 111101 11010111 1111111 110101 11010101 11010101 01101 0111101 0101101 110101 0110111 0110111 1101010 110101 01010111 010101 1111011 1111101 01101 11010111 0101111 01111 11111101 01110111 111101 01010111 11010111 11101 11011111 0111101 01111 11010101 10110101 010111 1101011 11010111 010111 01011101 11010101 111111 11011111 01110101 110111 01110101 11010101 110101 11110101 11010111 111101 11010101 11110101 111101 110111 1101111 110111 0110101 01110101 010101 0101111 01110101 110101 11111111 01110101 110101 11111101 011101011 Closest metre Iambic tetrameter Characters 4,214 Words 804 Sentences 26 Stanzas 1 Stanza Lengths 134 Lines Amount 134 Letters per line (avg) 25 Words per line (avg) 6 Letters per stanza (avg) 3,339 Words per stanza (avg) 802 Font size:Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 26, 2023
- 4:10 min read
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