The Blood of Christ
Mid weariness and woe I find some cheerIn thinking of the past, when I recallMy weakness and my sins, and reckon allThe vain expense of days that disappear:This cheers by making, ere I die, more clearThe frailty of what men delight miscall;But saddens me to think how rarely fallGod's grace and mercies in life's latest year.For though Thy promises our faith compel,That pity will condone our long neglect?Still from Thy blood poured forth we know full wellHow without measure was Thy martyr's pain,How measureless the gifts we dare expect.
Words in this poem
- frailty n.
- The condition quality of being frail, physically, mentally, or morally, frailness; infirmity; weakness of resolution; liableness to be deceived or seduced. [OE. frelete, freilte, OF. fraileté, fr. L. fragilitas. See Frail, a., and cf. Fragility.]
- miscall v. t.
- To call by a wrong name; to name improperly.
- condone v. t.
- To pardon; to forgive. [L. condonare, -donatum, to give up, remit, forgive; con- + donare to give. See Donate.]
- measureless a.
- Without measure; unlimited; immeasurable.
- expect v. t.
- To wait for; to await. [L. expectatum, to look out for, await, expect; ex + out spectare to look at. See Spectacle.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Blood of Christ is in the public domain. This text is taken from Sonnets, Project Gutenberg ebook #10314, the John Addington Symonds 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: Michelangelo Buonarroti, The Blood of Christ, in Sonnets (1878), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #10314, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/michelangelo-sonnets/the-blood-of-christ.html, id L15219.
Form and metre
The Blood of Christ is 13 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%). 92% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 46% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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 ABBAABBACDC-D cheerA · recallB · allB · disappearA · clearA · miscallB · fallB · yearA · compelC · neglectD · wellC · pain · expectD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Mid weariness and woe I find some cheer | 10 | ·/˘˘······ |
| In thinking of the past, when I recall | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| My weakness and my sins, and reckon all | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| The vain expense of days that disappear: | 10 | ··˘/····˘/ |
| This cheers by making, ere I die, more clear | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| The frailty of what men delight miscall; | 10 | ·/˘···˘/˘/ |
| But saddens me to think how rarely fall | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| God's grace and mercies in life's latest year. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| For though Thy promises our faith compel, | 10 | ···/˘˘/·˘/ |
| That pity will condone our long neglect? | 10 | ·/˘·˘//·˘/ |
| Still from Thy blood poured forth we know full well | 10 | ·········· |
| How without measure was Thy martyr's pain, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| How measureless the gifts we dare expect. | 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.