2. The Epicure
Underneath this myrtle shade,On flowery beds supinely laid,With odorous oils my head o’erflowing,And around it roses growing,What should I do but drink awayThe heat and troubles of the day?In this more than kingly stateLove himself on me shall wait.Fill to me, Love! nay, fill it up!And mingled cast into the cupWit and mirth and noble fires,Vigorous health and gay desires.The wheel of life no less will stayIn a smooth than rugged way:Since it equally doth flee,Let the motion pleasant be.Why do we precious ointments shower?--Nobler wines why do we pour?--Beauteous flowers why do we spreadUpon the monuments of the dead?Nothing they but dust can show,Or bones that hasten to be so.Crown me with roses while I live,Now your wines and ointments give:After death I nothing crave,Let me alive my pleasures have:All are Stoics in the grave.
Words in this poem
- 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,]
- beauteous a.
- Full of beauty; beautiful; very handsome. [Mostly poetic] -- Beau"te*ous*ly, adv. --
- crave v. t.
- To ask with earnestness or importunity; to ask with submission or humility; to beg; to entreat; to beseech; to implore. [AS. crafian; akin to Icel. krefia, Sw. kr, Dan. kr.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
2. The Epicure is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Oxford Book of English Verse, 1250-1900, Project Gutenberg ebook #66619; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Abraham Cowley, 2. The Epicure, in Poems (1618–1667), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #66619, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/obev-abraham-cowley/2-the-epicure.html, id L16098.
Form and metre
2. The Epicure is 27 lines in a single stanza. It is in rhyming couplets, 89% of the lines: octosyllabic couplets. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.6 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 18% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in octosyllabic couplets, other poems in iambic tetrameter.
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 AABBCCDDEEFFCCGG--HHIIJJKKK shadeA · laidA · o'erflowingB · growingB · awayC · dayC · stateD · waitD · upE · cupE · firesF · desiresF · stayC · wayC · fleeG · beG · shower · pour · spreadH · deadH · showI · soI · liveJ · giveJ · craveK · haveK · graveK
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 tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Underneath this myrtle shade, | 7 | ·˘/·/˘· |
| On flowery beds supinely laid, | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| With odorous oils my head o’erflowing, | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| And around it roses growing, | 8 | ····/˘/˘ |
| What should I do but drink away | 8 | ······˘/ |
| The heat and troubles of the day? | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| In this more than kingly state | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Love himself on me shall wait. | 7 | ·˘/···· |
| Fill to me, Love! nay, fill it up! | 8 | ········ |
| And mingled cast into the cup | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Wit and mirth and noble fires, | 8 | ····/˘/˘ |
| Vigorous health and gay desires. | 7 | /˘···˘/ |
| The wheel of life no less will stay | 8 | ········ |
| In a smooth than rugged way: | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Since it equally doth flee, | 7 | ··/˘˘·· |
| Let the motion pleasant be. | 7 | ··/˘/˘· |
| Why do we precious ointments shower?-- | 8 | ···/˘/˘/ |
| Nobler wines why do we pour?-- | 7 | /˘····· |
| Beauteous flowers why do we spread | 8 | /˘˘/···· |
| Upon the monuments of the dead? | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Nothing they but dust can show, | 7 | /˘····· |
| Or bones that hasten to be so. | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Crown me with roses while I live, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Now your wines and ointments give: | 7 | ····/˘· |
| After death I nothing crave, | 7 | ····/˘· |
| Let me alive my pleasures have: | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| All are Stoics in the grave. | 7 | ··/˘··· |
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.