Upon the Death of a Freind
Hee's dead! Oh what harsh musick's thereVnto a choyce, and curious eare!Wee must that Discord surely call,Since sighs doe rise and teares doe fall.Teares fall too low, sighes rise too high,How then can there be harmony?But who is he? him may wee knowThat jarres and spoiles sweet consort soe?O Death, 'tis thou: you false time keepe,And stretch'st thy dismall voice too deepe.Long time to quavering Age you giue,But to large Youth, short time to liue.You take vpon you too too much,In striking where you should not touch.How out of tune the world now lies,Since youth must fall, when it should rise!Gone be all consort, since aloneHe that once bore the best part's gone.Whose whole life, musick was; whereinEach vertue for a part came in.And though that musick of his life be still,The musick of his name yett soundeth shrill.
Words in this poem
- curious a.
- Difficult to please or satisfy; solicitous to be correct; careful; scrupulous; nice; exact. [OF. curios, curius, F. curieux, L. curiosus careful, inquisitive, fr. cura care. See Cure.]
- dismall a.
- Fatal; ill-omened; unlucky. [Formerly a noun; e. g., "I trow it was in the dismalle." Chaucer. Of uncertain origin; but perh. (as suggested by Skeat) from OF. disme, F. dîme, tithe, the phr]
- yett n.
- Any one of several species of large marine gastropods belonging to the genus Yetus, or Cymba; a boat shell.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Upon the Death of a Freind 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, Upon the Death of a Freind, in Steps to the Temple and Other Poems (1646–1652), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #38549, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/crashaw-poems/upon-the-death-of-a-freind.html, id L12135.
Form and metre
Upon the Death of a Freind is 22 lines in a single stanza. It is in rhyming couplets, 73% of the lines: octosyllabic couplets. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 81%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.1 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 18% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in octosyllabic couplets, other poems in iambic tetrameter.
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 --AA----BBCCDDEEFFFFGG there · eare · callA · fallA · high · harmony · know · soe · keepeB · deepeB · giueC · liueC · muchD · touchD · liesE · riseE · aloneF · goneF · whereinF · inF · stillG · shrillG
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 tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Hee's dead! Oh what harsh musick's there | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Vnto a choyce, and curious eare! | 8 | ····/˘˘· |
| Wee must that Discord surely call, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Since sighs doe rise and teares doe fall. | 8 | ········ |
| Teares fall too low, sighes rise too high, | 8 | ········ |
| How then can there be harmony? | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| But who is he? him may wee know | 8 | ········ |
| That jarres and spoiles sweet consort soe? | 8 | ·····˘/· |
| O Death, 'tis thou: you false time keepe, | 8 | ········ |
| And stretch'st thy dismall voice too deepe. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Long time to quavering Age you giue, | 9 | ···/˘˘··· |
| But to large Youth, short time to liue. | 8 | ········ |
| You take vpon you too too much, | 7 | ······· |
| In striking where you should not touch. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| How out of tune the world now lies, | 8 | ········ |
| Since youth must fall, when it should rise! | 8 | ········ |
| Gone be all consort, since alone | 8 | ···˘/·˘/ |
| He that once bore the best part's gone. | 8 | ········ |
| Whose whole life, musick was; wherein | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Each vertue for a part came in. | 7 | ······· |
| And though that musick of his life be still, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| The musick of his name yett soundeth shrill. | 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.