Donjon
(In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the MaterDolorosa. Pots of flowers before it.)
Incline, O Maiden,Thou sorrow-laden,Thy gracious countenance upon my pain!
The sword Thy heart in,With anguish smarting,Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is slain!
Thou seest the Father;Thy sad sighs gather,And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain!
Ah, past guessing,Beyond expressing,The pangs that wring my flesh and bone!Why this anxious heart so burneth,Why it trembleth, why it yearneth,Knowest Thou, and Thou alone!
Where’er I go, what sorrow,What woe, what woe and sorrowWithin my bosom aches!Alone, and ah! unsleeping,I’m weeping, weeping, weeping,The heart within me breaks.
The pots before my window,Alas! my tears did wet,As in the early morningFor thee these flowers I set.
Within my lonely chamberThe morning sun shone red:I sat, in utter sorrow,Already on my bed.
Help! rescue me from death and stain!O Maiden!Thou sorrow-laden,Incline Thy countenance upon my pain!
About this text
Donjon is in the public domain. This text is taken from Faust, Part One, Project Gutenberg ebook #14591, the Bayard Taylor translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Donjon, in Faust, Part One (1870), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #14591, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/goethe-faust/donjon.html, id L14400.
Form and metre
Donjon is 35 lines in 9 stanzas. The metre is iambic trimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.0 syllables. 19 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 11% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic trimeter.
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.
- 2 AAA maidenA · ladenA · painA
- 3 A-A inA · smarting · slainA
- 5 AABCCB guessingA · expressingA · boneB · burnethC · yearnethC · aloneB
- 6 AABCCB sorrowA · sorrowA · achesB · unsleepingC · weepingC · breaksB
- 7 -A-A window · wetA · morning · setA
- 8 -A-A chamber · redA · sorrow · bedA
- 9 ABBA stainA · maidenB · ladenB · painA
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 trimeter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| (In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater | 16 | ··········/˘··/˘ |
| Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it.) | 9 | ˘/˘··/··· |
| Incline, O Maiden, | 5 | ˘/·/˘ |
| Thou sorrow-laden, | 5 | ·/˘/˘ |
| Thy gracious countenance upon my pain! | 9 | ·/˘/˘···· |
| The sword Thy heart in, | 5 | ····· |
| With anguish smarting, | 5 | ·/˘/˘ |
| Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is slain! | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Thou seest the Father; | 5 | ···/˘ |
| Thy sad sighs gather, | 5 | ···/˘ |
| And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain! | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| Ah, past guessing, | 4 | ··/˘ |
| Beyond expressing, | 5 | ··˘/˘ |
| The pangs that wring my flesh and bone! | 8 | ········ |
| Why this anxious heart so burneth, | 8 | ··/˘··/˘ |
| Why it trembleth, why it yearneth, | 9 | ··/˘˘··/˘ |
| Knowest Thou, and Thou alone! | 7 | /˘···˘/ |
| Where’er I go, what sorrow, | 8 | ˘˘/···/˘ |
| What woe, what woe and sorrow | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Within my bosom aches! | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Alone, and ah! unsleeping, | 7 | ˘/····· |
| I’m weeping, weeping, weeping, | 7 | ·/˘/˘/˘ |
| The heart within me breaks. | 6 | ······ |
| The pots before my window, | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Alas! my tears did wet, | 6 | ˘/···· |
| As in the early morning | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| For thee these flowers I set. | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| Within my lonely chamber | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| The morning sun shone red: | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| I sat, in utter sorrow, | 7 | ···/˘/˘ |
| Already on my bed. | 6 | ˘/˘··· |
| Help! rescue me from death and stain! | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| O Maiden! | 3 | ·/˘ |
| Thou sorrow-laden, | 5 | ·/˘/˘ |
| Incline Thy countenance upon my pain! | 9 | ˘/·/˘···· |
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.