Macgregor
Glorious Colonna! thou, the Latins' hope,The proud supporter of our lofty name,Thou hold'st thy path of virtue still the same,Amid the thunderings of Rome's Jove--the Pope.Not here do human structures interlopeThe fir to rival, or the pine-tree's claim,The soul may revel in poetic flameUpon yon mountain's green and gentle slope.And thus from earth to heaven the spirit soars,Whilst Philomel her tale of woe repeatsAmid the sympathising shades of night,Thus through man's breast love's current sweetly pours:Yet still thine absence half the joy defeats,--Alas! my friend, why dim such radiant light?
Words in this poem
- glorious a.
- Exhibiting attributes, qualities, or acts that are worthy of or receive glory; noble; praiseworthy; excellent; splendid; illustrious; inspiring admiration; as, glorious deeds. [OF. glorios, glorious, F. glorieux, fr. L. gloriosus. See Glory, n.]
- amid 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]
- jove n.
- The chief divinity of the ancient Romans; Jupiter. [L. Jupiter, gen. Jovis, OL. Jovis, nom. & gen. for Djovis; akin to E. Tuesday. See Tuesday, and cf. Jupiter.]
- interlope v. i.
- To run between parties and intercept without right the advantage that one should gain from the other; to traffic without a proper license; to intrude; to forestall others; to intermeddle. [See Interloper.]
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-4.html, id L14478.
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 92%). 95% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 21% 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 hopeA · nameB · sameB · popeA · interlopeA · claimB · flameB · slopeA · soarsC · repeatsD · nightC · poursD · defeatsC · lightD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Glorious Colonna! thou, the Latins' hope, | 10 | /˘˘/˘··/˘· |
| The proud supporter of our lofty name, | 10 | ··˘/˘·//˘· |
| Thou hold'st thy path of virtue still the same, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Amid the thunderings of Rome's Jove--the Pope. | 10 | ˘/·/˘····· |
| Not here do human structures interlope | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| The fir to rival, or the pine-tree's claim, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| The soul may revel in poetic flame | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘· |
| Upon yon mountain's green and gentle slope. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And thus from earth to heaven the spirit soars, | 10 | ·····/·/˘· |
| Whilst Philomel her tale of woe repeats | 10 | ·/˘˘····˘/ |
| Amid the sympathising shades of night, | 10 | ˘/·/˘·˘··· |
| Thus through man's breast love's current sweetly pours: | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| Yet still thine absence half the joy defeats,-- | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| Alas! my friend, why dim such radiant light? | 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.