Classic and Contemporary Poetry
OBERONS PALACE, by ROBERT HERRICK Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: After the feast (my shapcot) see Last Line: He'll do no doubt; this flax is spun. Subject(s): Fairies; Elves | ||||||||
After the Feast (my Shapcot) see, The Fairie Court I give to thee: Where we'le present our Oberon led Halfe tipsie to the Fairie Bed, Where Mab he finds; who there doth lie Not without mickle majesty. Which, done; and thence remov'd the light, We'l wish both Them and Thee, good night. Full as a Bee with Thyme, and Red, As Cherry harvest, now high fed For Lust and action; on he'l go, To lye with Mab, though all say no. Lust ha's no eares; He's sharpe as thorn; And fretfull, carries Hay in's horne, And lightning in his eyes; and flings Among the Elves, (if mov'd) the stings Of peltish wasps; we'l know his Guard Kings though th'are hated, will be fear'd. Wine lead him on. Thus to a Grove (Sometimes devoted unto Love) Tinseld with Twilight, He, and They Lead by the shine of Snails; a way Beat with their num'rous feet, which by Many a neat perplexity, Many a turn, and man' a crosse- Track they redeem a bank of mosse Spungie and swelling, and farre more Soft then the finest Lemster Ore. Mildly disparkling, like those fiers, Which break from the Injeweld tyres Of curious Brides; or like those mites Of Candi'd dew in Moony nights. Upon this Convex, all the flowers (Nature begets by th' Sun, and showers,) Are to a wilde digestion brought, As if Loves Sampler here was wrought: Or Citherea's Ceston, which All with temptation doth bewitch. Sweet Aires move here; and more divine Made by the breath of great-ey'd kine, Who as they lowe empearl with milk The four-leav'd grasse, or mosse-like silk. The breath of Munkies met to mix With Musk-flies, are th' Aromaticks, Which cense this Arch; and here and there, And farther off, and every where, Throughout that Brave Mosaick yard Those Picks or Diamonds in the Card: With peeps of Harts, of Club and Spade Are here most neatly inter-laid. Many a Counter, many a Die, Half rotten, and without an eye, Lies here abouts; and for to pave The excellency of this Cave, Squirrils and childrens teeth late shed, Are neatly here enchequered. With brownest Toadstones, and the Gum That shines upon the blewer Plum. The nails faln off by Whit-flawes: Art's Wise hand enchasing here those warts, Which we to others (from our selves) Sell, and brought hither by the Elves. The tempting Mole, stoln from the neck Of the shie Virgin, seems to deck The holy Entrance; where within The roome is hung with the blew skin Of shifted Snake: enfreez'd throughout With eyes of Peacocks Trains, & Troutflies curious wings; and these among Those silver-pence, that cut the tongue Of the red infant, neatly hung. The glow-wormes eyes; the shining scales Of silv'rie fish; wheat-strawes, the snailes Soft Candle-light; the Kitling's eyne; Corrupted wood; serve here for shine. No glaring light of bold-fac't Day, Or other over radiant Ray Ransacks this roome; but what weak beams Can make reflected from these jems, And multiply; Such is the light, But ever doubtfull Day, or night. By this quaint Taper-light he winds His Errours up; and now he finds His Moon-tann'd Mab, as somewhat sick, And (Love knowes) tender as a chick. Upon six plump Dandillions, high- Rear'd, lyes her Elvish-majestie: Whose woollie-bubbles seem'd to drowne Hir Mab-ship in obedient Downe. For either sheet, was spread the Caule That doth the Infants face enthrall, When it is born: (by some enstyl'd The luckie Omen of the child) And next to these two blankets ore- Cast of the finest Gossamore. And then a Rug of carded wooll, Which, Spunge-like drinking in the dull- Light of the Moon, seem'd to comply, Cloud-like, the daintie Deitie. Thus soft she lies: and over-head A Spinners circle is bespread, With Cob-web-curtains: from the roof So neatly sunck, as that no proof Of any tackling can declare What gives it hanging in the Aire. The Fringe about this, are those Threds Broke at the Losse of Maiden-heads: And all behung with these pure Pearls, Dropt from the eyes of ravisht Girles Or writhing Brides; when, (panting) they Give unto Love the straiter way. For Musick now; He has the cries Of fained-lost-Virginities; The which the Elves make to excite A more unconquer'd appetite. The Kings undrest; and now upon The Gnats-watch-word the Elves are gone. And now the bed, and Mab possest Of this great-little-kingly-Guest. We'll nobly think, what's to be done, He'll do no doubt; This flax is spun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FAERY FOREST by SARA TEASDALE THE LAND OF HEART'S DESIRE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE FAIRIES by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE FAIRY CHILD by JOHN ANSTER THE FORSAKEN MERMAN by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE LITTLE ELF-MAN by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS TAM O' SHANTER by ROBERT BURNS A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 19. THE FAIRY QUEEN PROSERPINA by THOMAS CAMPION A PROPER NEW BALLAD [ENTITLED THE FAIRIES' FAREWELL] by RICHARD CORBET A CHRISTMAS CAROL, SUNG TO THE KING IN THE PRESENCE AT WHITEHALL by ROBERT HERRICK A MEDITATION FOR HIS MISTRESS by ROBERT HERRICK A TERNARIE OF LITTLES, UPON A PIPKIN OF JELLIE by ROBERT HERRICK |
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