Dacre
Clear, fresh, and dulcet streams,Which the fair shape, who seemsTo me sole woman, haunted at noon-tide;Fair bough, so gently fit,(I sigh to think of it,)Which lent a pillar to her lovely side;And turf, and flowers bright-eyed,O'er which her folded gownFlow'd like an angel's down;And you, O holy air and hush'd,Where first my heart at her sweet glances gush'd;Give ear, give ear, with one consenting,To my last words, my last and my lamenting.
If 'tis my fate below,And Heaven will have it so,That Love must close these dying eyes in tears,May my poor dust be laidIn middle of your shade,While my soul, naked, mounts to its own spheres.The thought would calm my fears,When taking, out of breath,The doubtful step of death;For never could my spirit findA stiller port after the stormy wind;Nor in more calm, abstracted bourne,Slip from my travail'd flesh, and from my bones outworn.
Perhaps, some future hour,To her accustom'd bowerMight come the untamed, and yet the gentle she;And where she saw me first,Might turn with eyes athirstAnd kinder joy to look again for me;Then, oh! the charity!Seeing amidst the stonesThe earth that held my bones,A sigh for very love at lastMight ask of Heaven to pardon me the past:And Heaven itself could not say nay,As with her gentle veil she wiped the tears away.
How well I call to mind,When from those boughs the windShook down upon her bosom flower on flower;And there she sat, meek-eyed,In midst of all that pride,Sprinkled and blushing through an amorous showerSome to her hair paid dower,And seem'd to dress the curls,Queenlike, with gold and pearls;Some, snowing, on her drapery stopp'd,Some on the earth, some on the water dropp'd;While others, fluttering from above,Seem'd wheeling round in pomp, and saying, "Here reigns Love."
How often then I said,Inward, and fill'd with dread,"Doubtless this creature came from Paradise!"For at her look the while,Her voice, and her sweet smile,And heavenly air, truth parted from mine eyes;So that, with long-drawn sighs,I said, as far from men,"How came I here, and when?"I had forgotten; and alas!Fancied myself in heaven, not where I was;And from that time till this, I bearSuch love for the green bower, I cannot rest elsewhere.
Words in this poem
- dulcet a.
- Sweet to the taste; luscious. [OF. doucet, dim. of dous sweet, F. doux, L. dulcis; akin to Gr. Doucet.]
- haunted a.
- Inhabited by, or subject to the visits of, apparitions; frequented by a ghost.
- stiller n.
- One who stills, or quiets.
- bourne n.
- A stream or rivulet; a burn. [OE. burne, borne, AS. burna; akin to OS. brunno spring, G. born, brunnen, OHG. prunno, Goth. brunna, Icel. brunnr, and perh. to Gr. burn, v., because the source]
- athirst a.
- Wanting drink; thirsty. [OE. ofthurst, AS. ofpyrsted, p. p. of ofpyrstan; pref. of-, intensive + pyrstan to thirst. See Thirst.]
- amidst prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- shook v. t.
- To pack, as staves, in a shook.
- wheeling n.
- The act of conveying anything, or traveling, on wheels, or in a wheeled vehicle.
- doubtless a.
- Free from fear or suspicion.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Dacre is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, the various hands 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: Petrarch, Dacre, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/dacre-3.html, id L14641.
Form and metre
Dacre is 65 lines in 5 stanzas of 13 lines each. It is in rhyming couplets, 68% of the lines. The metre is iambic trimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.8 syllables. 6 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 17% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in rhyming couplets, 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.
- 1 AABCCBBDDEEFF streamsA · seemsA · tideB · fitC · itC · sideB · eyedB · gownD · downD · hush'dE · gush'dE · consentingF · lamentingF
- 2 AABCCBBDDEEFF belowA · soA · tearsB · laidC · shadeC · spheresB · fearsB · breathD · deathD · findE · windE · bourneF · outwornF
- 3 AABCCB-DDEEFF hourA · bowerA · sheB · firstC · athirstC · meB · charity · stonesD · bonesD · lastE · pastE · nayF · awayF
- 4 AABCCB-DDEEFF mindA · windA · flowerB · eyedC · prideC · showerB · dower · curlsD · pearlsD · stopp'dE · dropp'dE · aboveF · loveF
- 5 AA-BBCCDD--EE saidA · dreadA · paradise · whileB · smileB · eyesC · sighsC · menD · whenD · alas · was · bearE · elsewhereE
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Clear, fresh, and dulcet streams, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Which the fair shape, who seems | 6 | ······ |
| To me sole woman, haunted at noon-tide; | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Fair bough, so gently fit, | 6 | ···/˘· |
| (I sigh to think of it,) | 6 | ······ |
| Which lent a pillar to her lovely side; | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And turf, and flowers bright-eyed, | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| O'er which her folded gown | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Flow'd like an angel's down; | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And you, O holy air and hush'd, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Where first my heart at her sweet glances gush'd; | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Give ear, give ear, with one consenting, | 9 | ······˘/˘ |
| To my last words, my last and my lamenting. | 11 | ········˘/˘ |
| If 'tis my fate below, | 6 | ······ |
| And Heaven will have it so, | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| That Love must close these dying eyes in tears, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| May my poor dust be laid | 6 | ······ |
| In middle of your shade, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| While my soul, naked, mounts to its own spheres. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| The thought would calm my fears, | 6 | ······ |
| When taking, out of breath, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| The doubtful step of death; | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| For never could my spirit find | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| A stiller port after the stormy wind; | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Nor in more calm, abstracted bourne, | 8 | ····/·˘· |
| Slip from my travail'd flesh, and from my bones outworn. | 12 | ············ |
| Perhaps, some future hour, | 7 | ˘/·/˘/˘ |
| To her accustom'd bower | 7 | ··˘/˘/˘ |
| Might come the untamed, and yet the gentle she; | 11 | ········/˘· |
| And where she saw me first, | 6 | ······ |
| Might turn with eyes athirst | 6 | ····˘/ |
| And kinder joy to look again for me; | 10 | ·/˘···˘/·· |
| Then, oh! the charity! | 6 | ···/˘˘ |
| Seeing amidst the stones | 6 | /˘˘/·· |
| The earth that held my bones, | 6 | ······ |
| A sigh for very love at last | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Might ask of Heaven to pardon me the past: | 10 | ···/·/˘··· |
| And Heaven itself could not say nay, | 9 | ·/˘˘/···· |
| As with her gentle veil she wiped the tears away. | 12 | ···/˘·····˘/ |
| How well I call to mind, | 6 | ······ |
| When from those boughs the wind | 6 | ······ |
| Shook down upon her bosom flower on flower; | 11 | ·····/˘/·/˘ |
| And there she sat, meek-eyed, | 6 | ······ |
| In midst of all that pride, | 6 | ······ |
| Sprinkled and blushing through an amorous shower | 10 | /˘·/˘··/˘/ |
| Some to her hair paid dower, | 6 | ······ |
| And seem'd to dress the curls, | 6 | ······ |
| Queenlike, with gold and pearls; | 6 | ······ |
| Some, snowing, on her drapery stopp'd, | 9 | ·/˘··/˘˘· |
| Some on the earth, some on the water dropp'd; | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| While others, fluttering from above, | 9 | ·/˘/˘˘··· |
| Seem'd wheeling round in pomp, and saying, "Here reigns Love." | 12 | ·/˘····/˘··· |
| How often then I said, | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Inward, and fill'd with dread, | 6 | /˘···· |
| "Doubtless this creature came from Paradise!" | 10 | /˘·/˘··/˘· |
| For at her look the while, | 6 | ······ |
| Her voice, and her sweet smile, | 6 | ······ |
| And heavenly air, truth parted from mine eyes; | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| So that, with long-drawn sighs, | 6 | ······ |
| I said, as far from men, | 6 | ······ |
| "How came I here, and when?" | 6 | ······ |
| I had forgotten; and alas! | 8 | ··˘/˘·˘/ |
| Fancied myself in heaven, not where I was; | 10 | /˘·/·/···· |
| And from that time till this, I bear | 8 | ········ |
| Such love for the green bower, I cannot rest elsewhere. | 12 | ·····/·/˘·/· |
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.