Penelope to Ulysses
Return my dearest Lord, at length return,Let me no longer your sad absence mourn,Ilium in Dust, does no more Work afford,No more Employment for your Wit or Sword.
Why did not the fore-seeing Gods destroy,Helin the Fire-brand both of Greece and Troy,E're yet the Fatal Youth her Face had seen,E're lov'd and born away the wanton Queen?Then had been stopt the mighty Floud of Woe,Which now both Greece and Phrygia over-flow:Then I, these many Teares, should not have shed,Nor thou, the source of them, to War been led:I should not then have trembled at the FameOf Hectors warlike and victorious Name.
Why did I wish the Noble Hector Slain?Why Ilium ruin'd? Rise, O rise again!Again great City flourish from thine Urne:For though thou'rt burn'd, my Lord does not return.Sometimes I think, (but O most Cruel Thought,)That, for thy Absence, th'art thy self in fault:That thou art captiv'd by some captive Dame,Who, when thou fired'st Troy, did thee inflameAnd now with her thou lead'st thy am'rous Life,Forgetful, and despising of thy Wife.
An Epitaph on her Self.
When I am Dead, few Friends attend my Hearse,And for a Monument, I leave my VERSE.
Words in this poem
- dame n.
- A mistress of a family, who is a lady; a womam in authority; especially, a lady. [F. dame, LL. domna, fr. L. domina mistress, lady, fem. of dominus master, ruler, lord; akin to domare to tame, subdue. See Tame, and cf. Dam mother, Dan, Danger]
- forgetful a.
- Apt to forget; easily losing remembrance; as, a forgetful man should use helps to strengthen his memory.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Penelope to Ulysses is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems (1686), Project Gutenberg ebook #41076; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Anne Killigrew, Penelope to Ulysses, in Poems (1686) (1686), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #41076, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/killigrew-poems/penelope-to-ulysses.html, id L09206.
Form and metre
Penelope to Ulysses is 27 lines in 5 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 89% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.1 syllables. 8% 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 --AA return · mourn · affordA · swordA
- 2 AABBCCDDEE destroyA · troyA · seenB · queenB · woeC · flowC · shedD · ledD · fameE · nameE
- 3 AABBCCDDEE slainA · againA · urneB · returnB · thoughtC · faultC · dameD · inflameD · lifeE · wifeE
- 5 AA hearseA · verseA
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Return my dearest Lord, at length return, | 10 | ˘/·/˘···˘/ |
| Let me no longer your sad absence mourn, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Ilium in Dust, does no more Work afford, | 11 | /˘˘······˘/ |
| No more Employment for your Wit or Sword. | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| Why did not the fore-seeing Gods destroy, | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| Helin the Fire-brand both of Greece and Troy, | 10 | /˘·/······ |
| E're yet the Fatal Youth her Face had seen, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| E're lov'd and born away the wanton Queen? | 10 | ····˘/·/˘· |
| Then had been stopt the mighty Floud of Woe, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Which now both Greece and Phrygia over-flow: | 10 | ·········· |
| Then I, these many Teares, should not have shed, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Nor thou, the source of them, to War been led: | 10 | ·········· |
| I should not then have trembled at the Fame | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Of Hectors warlike and victorious Name. | 10 | ·/˘/··˘/˘· |
| Why did I wish the Noble Hector Slain? | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| Why Ilium ruin'd? Rise, O rise again! | 11 | ·/˘˘/˘···˘/ |
| Again great City flourish from thine Urne: | 10 | ˘/·/˘/˘··· |
| For though thou'rt burn'd, my Lord does not return. | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Sometimes I think, (but O most Cruel Thought,) | 10 | ˘/·····/˘· |
| That, for thy Absence, th'art thy self in fault: | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| That thou art captiv'd by some captive Dame, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Who, when thou fired'st Troy, did thee inflame | 10 | ········˘/ |
| And now with her thou lead'st thy am'rous Life, | 10 | ·········· |
| Forgetful, and despising of thy Wife. | 10 | ˘/˘·˘/˘··· |
| An Epitaph on her Self. | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| When I am Dead, few Friends attend my Hearse, | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| And for a Monument, I leave my VERSE. | 10 | ···/˘˘···· |
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