In Her Presence He Can Neither Speak, Weep, nor Sigh
Although from falsehood I did thee restrainWith all my power, and paid thee honour due,Ungrateful tongue; yet never did accrueHonour from thee, but shame, and fierce disdain:Most art thou cold, when most I want the strainThy aid should lend while I for pity sue;And all thy utterance is imperfect too,When thou dost speak, and as the dreamer's vain.Ye too, sad tears, throughout each lingering nightUpon me wait, when I alone would stay;But, needed by my peace, you take your flight:And, all so prompt anguish and grief t' impart,Ye sighs, then slow, and broken breathe your way:My looks alone truly reveal my heart.
Words in this poem
- honour n.
- Esteem due or paid to worth; high estimation; respect; consideration; reverence; veneration; manifestation of respect or reverence. [OE. honor, honour, onour, onur, OF. honor, onor, honur, onur, honour, onour, F. honneur, fr. L. honor, honos.]
- ungrateful a.
- Not grateful; not thankful for favors; making no returns, or making ill return for kindness, attention, etc.; ingrateful. South.
- accrue n.
- Something that accrues; advantage accruing. [F. accrû, OF. acreü, p. p. of accroitre, OF. acroistre to increase; L. ad + crescere to increase. Cf. Accretion, Crew. See Crescent.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
In Her Presence He Can Neither Speak, Weep, nor Sigh 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, In Her Presence He Can Neither Speak, Weep, nor Sigh, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/in-her-presence-he-can-neither-speak-weep-nor-sigh.html, id L14538.
Form and metre
In Her Presence He Can Neither Speak, Weep, nor Sigh 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 86%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.1 syllables. 29% 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 restrainA · dueB · accrueB · disdainA · strainA · sueB · tooB · vainA · nightC · stayD · flightC · impartD · wayC · heartD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Although from falsehood I did thee restrain | 10 | ···/····˘/ |
| With all my power, and paid thee honour due, | 10 | ···/···/˘· |
| Ungrateful tongue; yet never did accrue | 10 | ˘/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| Honour from thee, but shame, and fierce disdain: | 10 | /˘······˘/ |
| Most art thou cold, when most I want the strain | 10 | ·········· |
| Thy aid should lend while I for pity sue; | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And all thy utterance is imperfect too, | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘· |
| When thou dost speak, and as the dreamer's vain. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Ye too, sad tears, throughout each lingering night | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Upon me wait, when I alone would stay; | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| But, needed by my peace, you take your flight: | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| And, all so prompt anguish and grief t' impart, | 11 | ····/˘···˘/ |
| Ye sighs, then slow, and broken breathe your way: | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| My looks alone truly reveal my heart. | 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.