Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ST. MICHAEL'S CHAIR, AND WHO SAT THERE, by ROBERT SOUTHEY



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ST. MICHAEL'S CHAIR, AND WHO SAT THERE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Merrily, merrily rung the bells
Last Line: "in compliment to me."
Subject(s): Bells; Churches; Death; Freedom; Marriage; Cathedrals; Dead, The; Liberty; Weddings; Husbands; Wives


MERRILY, merrily rung the bells,
The bells of St. Michael's tower,
When Richard Penlake and Rebecca his wife
Arrived at the church door.

Richard Penlake was a cheerful man,
Cheerful, and frank, and free,
But he led a sad life with Rebecca his wife,
For a terrible shrew was she.

Richard Penlake a scolding would take,
Till patience avail'd no longer,
Then Richard Penlake his crab-stick would take,
And show her that he was the stronger.

Rebecca his wife had often wish'd
To sit in St. Michael's chair;
For she should be the mistress then,
If she had once sat there.

It chanced that Richard Penlake fell sick,
They thought he would have died;
Rebecca, his wife, made a vow for his life,
As she knelt by his bed-side.

"Now hear my prayer, St. Michael! and spare
My husband's life," quoth she;
"And to thine altar we will go,
Six marks to give to thee."

Richard Penlake repeated the vow,
For woundily sick was he;
"Save me, St. Michael, and we will go,
Six marks to give to thee."

When Richard grew well, Rebecca his wife
Teased him by night and by day:
"O mine own dear! for you I fear,
If we the vow delay."

Merrily, merrily rung the bells,
The bells of St. Michael's tower,
When Richard Penlake and Rebecca his wife
Arrived at the church door.

Six marks they on the altar laid,
And Richard knelt in prayer:
She left him to pray, and stole away
To sit in St. Michael's chair.

Up the tower Rebecca ran,
Round and round and round;
'Twas a giddy sight to stand a-top.
And look upon the ground.

"A curse on the ringers for rocking
The tower!" Rebecca cried,
As over the church battlements
She strode with a long stride.

"A blessing on St. Michael's chair!"
She said as she sat down:
Merrily, merrily, rung the bells,
And Rebecca was shook to the ground.

Tidings to Richard Penlake were brought
That his good wife was dead:
"Now shall we toll for her poor soul
The great church bell?" they said.

"Toll at her burying," quoth Richard Penlake,
"Toll at her burying," quoth he;
"But don't disturb the ringers now,
In compliment to me."





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