Sonnet 21
A witlesse Gallant, a young Wench that woo'd,(Yet his dull Spirit her not one iot could moue)Intreated me, as e'r I wish'd his good,To write him but one Sonnet to his Loue:When I, as fast as e'r my Penne could trot,Powr'd out what first from quicke Inuention came;Nor neuer stood one word thereof to blot,Much like his Wit, that was to vse the same:But with my Verses he his Mistres wonne,Who doted on the Dolt beyond all measure.But soe, for you to Heau'n for Phraze I runne,And ransacke all APOLLO'S golden Treasure;Yet by my Troth, this Foole his Loue obtaines,And I lose you, for all my Wit and Paines.
Words in this poem
- sonnet n.
- A short poem, -- usually amatory. [F., fr. It. sonetto, fr. suono a sound, a song, fr. L. sonus a sound. See Sound noise.]
- penne v. t.
- To write; to compose and commit to paper; to indite; to compose; as, to pen a sonnet.
- wonne v. i.
- To dwell or abide. [See 1st Wone.]
- doted a.
- Stupid; foolish.
- troth n.
- Belief; faith; fidelity. [A variant of truth. See Truth.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Sonnet 21 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, Sonnet 21, in Minor Poems (1594–1619), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17873, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/drayton-minor-poems/sonnet-21.html, id L20631.
Form and metre
Sonnet 21 is 14 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).
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 -A-ABCBCDEDEFF woo'd · moueA · good · loueA · trotB · cameC · blotB · sameC · wonneD · measureE · runneD · treasureE · obtainesF · painesF
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 |
|---|---|---|
| A witlesse Gallant, a young Wench that woo'd, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| (Yet his dull Spirit her not one iot could moue) | 10 | ···/······ |
| Intreated me, as e'r I wish'd his good, | 10 | ·········· |
| To write him but one Sonnet to his Loue: | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| When I, as fast as e'r my Penne could trot, | 10 | ·········· |
| Powr'd out what first from quicke Inuention came; | 10 | ·········· |
| Nor neuer stood one word thereof to blot, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Much like his Wit, that was to vse the same: | 10 | ·········· |
| But with my Verses he his Mistres wonne, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Who doted on the Dolt beyond all measure. | 11 | ·/˘······/˘ |
| But soe, for you to Heau'n for Phraze I runne, | 10 | ·········· |
| And ransacke all APOLLO'S golden Treasure; | 11 | ····˘/˘/˘/˘ |
| Yet by my Troth, this Foole his Loue obtaines, | 11 | ·········˘/ |
| And I lose you, for all my Wit and Paines. | 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.