Death's Lectvre and the Fvneral of a Yovng Gentleman
Dear reliques of a dislodg'd sovl, whose lackMakes many a mourning paper put on black!O stay a while, ere thou draw in thy headAnd wind thy self vp close in thy cold bed.Stay but a little while, vntill I callA summon's worthy of thy funerall.Come then, Youth, Beavty, Blood! all ye soft powres,Whose sylken flatteryes swell a few fond howresInto a false aeternity. Come man;Hyperbolized nothing! know thy span;Take thine own measure here, down, down, and bowBefore thy self in thine idaea; thouHuge emptynes! contract thy bulke; and shrinkeAll thy wild circle to a point. O sinkLower and lower yet; till thy leane sizeCall Heaun to look on thee with narrow eyes.Lesser and lesser yet; till thou beginTo show a face, fitt to confesse thy kin,Thy neighbourhood to Nothing!Proud lookes, and lofty eyliddes, here putt onYour selues in your vnfaign'd reflexion;Here, gallant ladyes! this vnpartiall glasse(Through all your painting) showes you your true face.These death-seal'd lippes are they dare giue the lyTo the lowd boasts of poor Mortality;These curtain'd windows, this retired eyeOutstares the liddes of larg-look't Tyranny.This posture is the braue one, this that lyesThus low, stands vp (me thinkes) thus and defiesThe World. All-daring dust and ashes! only youOf all interpreters read Nature true.
Words in this poem
- putt n.
- A stroke made on the putting green to play the ball into a hole.
- mortality n.
- The condition or quality of being mortal; subjection to death or to the necessity of dying. [L. mortalitas: cf. F. mortalité.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Death's Lectvre and the Fvneral of a Yovng Gentleman is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume I, Project Gutenberg ebook #38549; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Richard Crashaw, Death's Lectvre and the Fvneral of a Yovng Gentleman, in Steps to the Temple and Other Poems (1646–1652), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #38549, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/crashaw-poems/death-s-lectvre-and-the-fvneral-of-a-yovng-gentleman.html, id L12106.
Form and metre
Death's Lectvre and the Fvneral of a Yovng Gentleman is 31 lines in a single stanza. It is in rhyming couplets, 58% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 82%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.8 syllables. 6 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 55% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.
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 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHII-----J-J-KKLL lackA · blackA · headB · bedB · callC · funerallC · powresD · howresD · manE · spanE · bowF · thouF · shrinkeG · sinkG · sizeH · eyesH · beginI · kinI · nothing · on · reflexion · glasse · face · lyJ · mortality · eyeJ · tyranny · lyesK · defiesK · youL · trueL
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 pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Dear reliques of a dislodg'd sovl, whose lack | 10 | ·····˘/··· |
| Makes many a mourning paper put on black! | 10 | ·/·/˘/˘··· |
| O stay a while, ere thou draw in thy head | 10 | ·········· |
| And wind thy self vp close in thy cold bed. | 10 | ·········· |
| Stay but a little while, vntill I call | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| A summon's worthy of thy funerall. | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘˘ |
| Come then, Youth, Beavty, Blood! all ye soft powres, | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| Whose sylken flatteryes swell a few fond howres | 10 | ···/˘····/ |
| Into a false aeternity. Come man; | 10 | ·········· |
| Hyperbolized nothing! know thy span; | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| Take thine own measure here, down, down, and bow | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Before thy self in thine idaea; thou | 9 | ········· |
| Huge emptynes! contract thy bulke; and shrinke | 9 | ···/····· |
| All thy wild circle to a point. O sink | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Lower and lower yet; till thy leane size | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| Call Heaun to look on thee with narrow eyes. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Lesser and lesser yet; till thou begin | 10 | /˘·/˘···˘/ |
| To show a face, fitt to confesse thy kin, | 10 | ·········· |
| Thy neighbourhood to Nothing! | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Proud lookes, and lofty eyliddes, here putt on | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Your selues in your vnfaign'd reflexion; | 8 | ·····˘/˘ |
| Here, gallant ladyes! this vnpartiall glasse | 9 | ·/˘/˘···· |
| (Through all your painting) showes you your true face. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| These death-seal'd lippes are they dare giue the ly | 10 | ·········· |
| To the lowd boasts of poor Mortality; | 10 | ······˘/˘˘ |
| These curtain'd windows, this retired eye | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘· |
| Outstares the liddes of larg-look't Tyranny. | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| This posture is the braue one, this that lyes | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Thus low, stands vp (me thinkes) thus and defies | 10 | ········˘/ |
| The World. All-daring dust and ashes! only you | 12 | ···/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Of all interpreters read Nature true. | 10 | ··˘/˘˘·/˘· |
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.