Vittoria Colonna and Julia Gonzaga
Come to my arms and to my heart once more;My soul goes out to meet you and embrace you,For we are of the sisterhood of sorrow.I know what you have suffered.
Name it not.Let me forget it.
I will say no more.Let me look at you. What a joy it isTo see your face, to hear your voice again!You bring with you a breath as of the morn,A memory of the far-off happy daysWhen we were young. When did you come from Fondi?
I have not been at Fondi since--
Ah me!You need not speak the word; I understand you.
I came from Naples by the lovely valleyThe Terra di Lavoro.
And you find meBut just returned from a long journey northward.I have been staying with that noble womanRenee of France, the Duchess of Ferrara.
Oh, tell me of the Duchess. I have heardFlaminio speak her praises with such warmthThat I am eager to hear more of herAnd of her brilliant court.
You shall hear allBut first sit down and listen patientlyWhile I confess myself.
What deadly sinHave you committed?
Not a sin; a follyI chid you once at Ischia, when you told meThat brave Fra Bastian was to paint your portrait.
Well I remember it.
Then chide me now,For I confess to something still more strange.Old as I am, I have at last consentedTo the entreaties and the supplicationsOf Michael Angelo--
To marry him?
I pray you, do not jest with me! You now,Or you should know, that never such a thoughtEntered my breast. I am already married.The Marquis of Pescara is my husband,And death has not divorced us.
Pardon me.Have I offended you?
No, but have hurt me.Unto my buried lord I give myself,Unto my friend the shadow of myself,My portrait. It is not from vanity,But for the love I bear him.
I rejoiceTo hear these words. Oh, this will be a portraitWorthy of both of you! [A knock.
Hark! He is coming.
And shall I go or stay?
By all means, stay.The drawing will be better for your presence;You will enliven me.
I shall not speak;The presence of great men doth take from meAll power of speech. I only gaze at themIn silent wonder, as if they were gods,Or the inhabitants of some other planet.
Words in this poem
- sisterhood n.
- The state or relation of being a sister; the office or duty of a sister. [Sister + hood.]
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- northward a.
- Toward the north; nearer to the north than to the east or west point. [AS. noredhweard.]
- duchess n.
- The wife or widow of a duke; also, a lady who has the sovereignty of a duchy in her own right. [F. duchesse, fr. duc duke.]
- ferrara n.
- A sword bearing the mark of one of the Ferrara family of Italy.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- patiently adv.
- In a patient manner.
- jest n.
- A deed; an action; a gest. [OE. jeste, geste, deed, action, story, tale, OF. geste, LL. gesta, orig., exploits, neut. pl. from L. gestus, p. p. of gerere to bear, carry, accomplish, perfor]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Vittoria Colonna and Julia Gonzaga is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Project Gutenberg ebook #1365; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Vittoria Colonna and Julia Gonzaga, in The Complete Poetical Works (1839–1882), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1365, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/longfellow-poems/vittoria-colonna-and-julia-gonzaga.html, id L18003.
Form and metre
Vittoria Colonna and Julia Gonzaga is 65 lines in 22 verse paragraphs. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.1 syllables. 19 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 31% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter, other poems in blank verse.
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.
- 17 -AA-- me · myselfA · myselfA · vanity · him
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Come to my arms and to my heart once more; | 10 | ·········· |
| My soul goes out to meet you and embrace you, | 11 | ········˘/· |
| For we are of the sisterhood of sorrow. | 11 | ·····/˘˘·/˘ |
| I know what you have suffered. | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Name it not. | 3 | ··· |
| Let me forget it. | 5 | ··˘/· |
| I will say no more. | 5 | ····· |
| Let me look at you. What a joy it is | 10 | ·········· |
| To see your face, to hear your voice again! | 10 | ········˘/ |
| You bring with you a breath as of the morn, | 10 | ·········· |
| A memory of the far-off happy days | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| When we were young. When did you come from Fondi? | 11 | ··········· |
| I have not been at Fondi since-- | 8 | ········ |
| Ah me! | 2 | ·· |
| You need not speak the word; I understand you. | 11 | ········˘/· |
| I came from Naples by the lovely valley | 11 | ···/˘··/˘/˘ |
| The Terra di Lavoro. | 7 | ·/˘·˘/˘ |
| And you find me | 4 | ···· |
| But just returned from a long journey northward. | 11 | ··˘/···/˘/˘ |
| I have been staying with that noble woman | 11 | ···/˘··/˘/˘ |
| Renee of France, the Duchess of Ferrara. | 11 | ˘/···/˘·˘/˘ |
| Oh, tell me of the Duchess. I have heard | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Flaminio speak her praises with such warmth | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| That I am eager to hear more of her | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And of her brilliant court. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| You shall hear all | 4 | ···· |
| But first sit down and listen patiently | 10 | ·····/˘/˘˘ |
| While I confess myself. | 6 | ··˘/·/ |
| What deadly sin | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Have you committed? | 5 | ··˘/˘ |
| Not a sin; a folly | 6 | ····/˘ |
| I chid you once at Ischia, when you told me | 11 | ··········· |
| That brave Fra Bastian was to paint your portrait. | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
| Well I remember it. | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| Then chide me now, | 4 | ···· |
| For I confess to something still more strange. | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| Old as I am, I have at last consented | 11 | ········˘/˘ |
| To the entreaties and the supplications | 11 | ··˘/˘······ |
| Of Michael Angelo-- | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| To marry him? | 4 | ·/˘· |
| I pray you, do not jest with me! You now, | 10 | ·········· |
| Or you should know, that never such a thought | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Entered my breast. I am already married. | 11 | /˘····˘/˘/˘ |
| The Marquis of Pescara is my husband, | 11 | ··/······/˘ |
| And death has not divorced us. | 7 | ····˘/· |
| Pardon me. | 3 | /˘· |
| Have I offended you? | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| No, but have hurt me. | 5 | ····· |
| Unto my buried lord I give myself, | 10 | ···/˘····/ |
| Unto my friend the shadow of myself, | 10 | ·····/···/ |
| My portrait. It is not from vanity, | 10 | ·/˘····/˘˘ |
| But for the love I bear him. | 7 | ······· |
| I rejoice | 3 | ·˘/ |
| To hear these words. Oh, this will be a portrait | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| Worthy of both of you! [A knock. | 8 | /˘······ |
| Hark! He is coming. | 5 | ···/˘ |
| And shall I go or stay? | 6 | ······ |
| By all means, stay. | 4 | ···· |
| The drawing will be better for your presence; | 11 | ·/˘··/˘··/˘ |
| You will enliven me. | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| I shall not speak; | 4 | ···· |
| The presence of great men doth take from me | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| All power of speech. I only gaze at them | 10 | ·/···/˘··· |
| In silent wonder, as if they were gods, | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| Or the inhabitants of some other planet. | 11 | ··˘/˘··/˘/˘ |
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.