He Bewails His Double Loss in the Deaths of Laura, and of Colonna
Fall'n that proud Column, fall'n that Laurel tree,Whose shelter once relieved my wearied mind;I'm reft of what I ne'er again shall find,Though ransack'd every shore and every sea:Double the treasure death has torn from me,In which life's pride was with its pleasure join'd;Not eastern gems, nor the world's wealth combined,Can give it back, nor land, nor royalty.But, if so fate decrees, what can I more,Than with unceasing tears these eyes bedew,Abase my visage, and my lot deplore?Ah, what is life, so lovely to the view!How quickly in one little morn is lostWhat years have won with labour and with cost!
Words in this poem
- reft n.
- A chink; a rift. See Rift. Rom. of R.
- 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,]
- wealth n.
- Weal; welfare; prosperity; good. [OE. welthe, from wele; cf. D. weelde luxury. See Weal prosperity.]
- bedew v. t.
- To moisten with dew, or as with dew.
- visage n.
- The face, countenance, or look of a person or an animal; -- chiefly applied to the human face. [F. visage, from L. visus a seeing, a look, fr. videre, visum, to see. See Vision.]
- deplore v. t.
- To feel or to express deep and poignant grief for; to bewail; to lament; to mourn; to sorrow over. [L. deplorare; de- + plorare to cry out, wail, lament; prob. akin to pluere to rain, and to E. flow: cf. F. déplorer. Cf. Flow.]
- 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.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
He Bewails His Double Loss in the Deaths of Laura, and of Colonna 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, He Bewails His Double Loss in the Deaths of Laura, and of Colonna, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/he-bewails-his-double-loss-in-the-deaths-of-laura-and-of-col.html, id L14841.
Form and metre
He Bewails His Double Loss in the Deaths of Laura, and of Colonna is 14 lines in a single stanza. It rhymes ABBAABBACDCDCD, the pattern of the Italian sonnet. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 7% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other Italian sonnets, 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 ABBAABBACDCDCD treeA · mindB · findB · seaA · meA · join'dB · combinedB · royaltyA · moreC · bedewD · deploreC · viewD · lostC · costD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Fall'n that proud Column, fall'n that Laurel tree, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Whose shelter once relieved my wearied mind; | 10 | ·/˘·˘/·/˘· |
| I'm reft of what I ne'er again shall find, | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Though ransack'd every shore and every sea: | 10 | ·/·/˘··/˘· |
| Double the treasure death has torn from me, | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| In which life's pride was with its pleasure join'd; | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Not eastern gems, nor the world's wealth combined, | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| Can give it back, nor land, nor royalty. | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| But, if so fate decrees, what can I more, | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| Than with unceasing tears these eyes bedew, | 10 | ··˘/˘···˘/ |
| Abase my visage, and my lot deplore? | 10 | ˘/·/˘···˘/ |
| Ah, what is life, so lovely to the view! | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| How quickly in one little morn is lost | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| What years have won with labour and with cost! | 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.