Macgregor
My life's long warfare seem'd about to cease,Peace had my spirit's contest well nigh freed;But levelling Death, who doth to all concedeAn equal doom, clipp'd Time's blest wings of peace:As zephyrs chase the clouds of gathering fleece,So did her life from this world's breath recede,Their vision'd light could once my footsteps lead,But now my all, save thought, she doth release.Oh! would that she her flight awhile had stay'd,For Time had stamp'd on me his warning hand,And calmer I had told my storied love:To her in virtue's tone I had convey'dMy heart's long grief--now, she doth understand,And sympathises with that grief above.
Words in this poem
- concede v. t.
- To yield or suffer; to surrender; to grant; as. to concede the point in question. Boyle. [L. concedere, concessum; con- + cedere to go along, give way, yield: cf. F. concéder. See Cede.]
- awhile adv.
- For a while; for some time; for a short time. [Adj. a + while time, interval.]
- calmer n.
- One who, or that which, makes calm.
- storied a.
- Told in a story. [From Story.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Macgregor 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, Macgregor, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/macgregor-32.html, id L14923.
Form and metre
Macgregor 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 90%). 100% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.1 syllables. 14% 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 ceaseA · freedB · concedeB · peaceA · fleeceA · recedeB · leadB · releaseA · stay'dC · handD · loveC · convey'dD · understandC · aboveD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| My life's long warfare seem'd about to cease, | 10 | ···/······ |
| Peace had my spirit's contest well nigh freed; | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| But levelling Death, who doth to all concede | 11 | ·˘/˘·····˘/ |
| An equal doom, clipp'd Time's blest wings of peace: | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| As zephyrs chase the clouds of gathering fleece, | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| So did her life from this world's breath recede, | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Their vision'd light could once my footsteps lead, | 10 | ·······/·· |
| But now my all, save thought, she doth release. | 10 | ········˘/ |
| Oh! would that she her flight awhile had stay'd, | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| For Time had stamp'd on me his warning hand, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And calmer I had told my storied love: | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| To her in virtue's tone I had convey'd | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| My heart's long grief--now, she doth understand, | 10 | ········˘/ |
| And sympathises with that grief above. | 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.