Sonet 45
Thou leaden braine, which censur'st what I write,And say'st my lines be dull and doe not moue,I meruaile not thou feelst not my delight,Which neuer felt my fiery tuch of loue.But thou whose pen hath like a Pack-horse seru'd,Whose stomack vnto gaule hath turn'd thy foode,Whose sences like poore prisoners hunger-staru'd,Whose griefe hath parch'd thy body, dry'd thy blood.Thou which hast scorned life, and hated death,And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry,Thou which hast band thy thoughts and curst thy breath,With thousand plagues more then in purgatory.Thou thus whose spirit Loue in his fire refines,Come thou and reade, admire, applaud my lines.
Words in this poem
- tuch n.
- A dark-colored kind of marble; touchstone. Sir J. [See Touchstone.]
- hast
- , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
- curst a.
- Froward; malignant; mischievous; malicious; snarling. [SeeCurse.]
- purgatory a.
- Tending to cleanse; cleansing; expiatory. Burke. [L. purgatorius.]
- admire v. t.
- To regard with wonder or astonishment; to view with surprise; to marvel at. [F. admirer, fr. L. admirari; ad + mirari to wonder, for smirari, akin to Gr. smi, and E. smile.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Sonet 45 is in the public domain. This text is taken from Minor Poems of Michael Drayton, Project Gutenberg ebook #17873; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Michael Drayton, Sonet 45, in Minor Poems (1594–1619), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17873, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/drayton-minor-poems/sonet-45.html, id L20608.
Form and metre
Sonet 45 is 14 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%).
See 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 ABABCDCDE-E-FF writeA · moueB · delightA · loueB · seru'dC · foodeD · staru'dC · bloodD · deathE · sorry · breathE · purgatory · refinesF · linesF
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Thou leaden braine, which censur'st what I write, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| And say'st my lines be dull and doe not moue, | 10 | ·········· |
| I meruaile not thou feelst not my delight, | 11 | ·········˘/ |
| Which neuer felt my fiery tuch of loue. | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| But thou whose pen hath like a Pack-horse seru'd, | 11 | ··········· |
| Whose stomack vnto gaule hath turn'd thy foode, | 10 | ·········· |
| Whose sences like poore prisoners hunger-staru'd, | 11 | ·····/˘/˘·· |
| Whose griefe hath parch'd thy body, dry'd thy blood. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Thou which hast scorned life, and hated death, | 10 | ····˘··/˘· |
| And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry, | 12 | ···/˘·/˘··/˘ |
| Thou which hast band thy thoughts and curst thy breath, | 10 | ·········· |
| With thousand plagues more then in purgatory. | 11 | ·/˘····/˘·˘ |
| Thou thus whose spirit Loue in his fire refines, | 10 | ···/···/˘/ |
| Come thou and reade, admire, applaud my lines. | 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.