Macgregor
Oh! had I deem'd that Death had freed my soulFrom Love's tormenting, overwhelming thought,To crush its aching burthen I had sought,My wearied life had hasten'd to its goal;My shivering bark yet fear'd another shoal,To find one tempest with another bought,Thus poised 'twixt earth and heaven I dwell as naught,Not daring to assume my life's control.But sure 'tis time that Death's relentless bowHad wing'd that fatal arrow to my heart,So often bathed in life's dark crimson tide:But though I crave he would this boon bestow,He to my cheek his impress doth impart,And yet o'erlooks me in his fearful stride.
Words in this poem
- aching a.
- That aches; continuously painful. See Ache.
- dwell v. i.
- To delay; to linger. [OE. dwellen, dwelien, to err, linger, AS. dwellan to deceive, hinder, delay, dwelian to err; akin to Icel. dvelja to delay, tarry, Sw. dväljas to dwell, Dan. dv]
- relentless a.
- Unmoved by appeals for sympathy or forgiveness; insensible to the distresses of others; destitute of tenderness; unrelenting; unyielding; unpitying; as, a prey to relentless despotism.
- crave v. t.
- To ask with earnestness or importunity; to ask with submission or humility; to beg; to entreat; to beseech; to implore. [AS. crafian; akin to Icel. krefia, Sw. kr, Dan. kr.]
- boon n.
- A prayer or petition. [OE. bone, boin, a petition, fr. Icel. b; akin to Sw. & Dan. b, AS. b, and perh. to E. ban; but influenced by F. bon good, fr. L. bonus. Ban, Bounty.]
- stride v. t.
- To walk with long steps, especially in a measured or pompous manner. [AS. stridan to stride, to strive; akin to LG. striden, OFries. strida to strive, D. strijden to strive, to contend, G. streiten, OHG. stritan; of uncertain orig]
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-8.html, id L14522.
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 89%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 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 soulA · thoughtB · soughtB · goalA · shoalA · boughtB · naughtB · controlA · bowC · heartD · tideC · bestowD · impartC · strideD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Oh! had I deem'd that Death had freed my soul | 10 | ·········· |
| From Love's tormenting, overwhelming thought, | 10 | ··/·˘·˘/˘· |
| To crush its aching burthen I had sought, | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| My wearied life had hasten'd to its goal; | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| My shivering bark yet fear'd another shoal, | 10 | ·/˘···˘/˘· |
| To find one tempest with another bought, | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘· |
| Thus poised 'twixt earth and heaven I dwell as naught, | 10 | ·····/···· |
| Not daring to assume my life's control. | 10 | ·/˘·˘/··˘/ |
| But sure 'tis time that Death's relentless bow | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| Had wing'd that fatal arrow to my heart, | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| So often bathed in life's dark crimson tide: | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| But though I crave he would this boon bestow, | 10 | ········˘/ |
| He to my cheek his impress doth impart, | 10 | ·····/··˘/ |
| And yet o'erlooks me in his fearful stride. | 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.