J.B. Taylor
Alone and pensive, the deserted plain,With tardy pace and sad, I wander by;And mine eyes o'er it rove, intent to flyWhere distant shores no trace of man retain;No help save this I find, some cave to gainWhere never may intrude man's curious eye,Lest on my brow, a stranger long to joy,He read the secret fire which makes my painFor here, methinks, the mountain and the flood,Valley and forest the strange temper knowOf my sad life conceal'd from others' sight--Yet where, where shall I find so wild a wood,A way so rough that there Love cannot goCommuning with me the long day and night?
Words in this poem
- curious a.
- Difficult to please or satisfy; solicitous to be correct; careful; scrupulous; nice; exact. [OF. curios, curius, F. curieux, L. curiosus careful, inquisitive, fr. cura care. See Cure.]
- methinks v.
- It seems to me; I think. See Me. [AS. þyncan to seem, me þynceedh, me þuhte, OE. me thinketh, me thoughte; akin to G. dünken to seem, denken to think, and E. think. See Me, and Think.]
- 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,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
J.B. Taylor 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, J.B. Taylor, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/j-b-taylor.html, id L14520.
Form and metre
J.B. Taylor 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 92%). 95% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 36% 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 plainA · byB · flyB · retainA · gainA · eyeB · joyB · painA · floodC · knowD · sightC · woodD · goC · nightD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Alone and pensive, the deserted plain, | 10 | ˘/·/˘·˘/˘· |
| With tardy pace and sad, I wander by; | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| And mine eyes o'er it rove, intent to fly | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Where distant shores no trace of man retain; | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| No help save this I find, some cave to gain | 10 | ·········· |
| Where never may intrude man's curious eye, | 10 | ·/·˘/·/˘˘· |
| Lest on my brow, a stranger long to joy, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| He read the secret fire which makes my pain | 10 | ···/˘/···· |
| For here, methinks, the mountain and the flood, | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| Valley and forest the strange temper know | 10 | /˘·/˘··/˘· |
| Of my sad life conceal'd from others' sight-- | 10 | ····˘/·/˘· |
| Yet where, where shall I find so wild a wood, | 10 | ·········· |
| A way so rough that there Love cannot go | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Communing with me the long day and night? | 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.