Night Brings Him No Rest. He Is the Prey of Despair
To every animal that dwells on earth,Except to those which have in hate the sun,Their time of labour is while lasts the day;But when high heaven relumes its thousand stars,This seeks his hut, and that its native wood,Each finds repose, at least until the dawn.
But I, when fresh and fair begins the dawnTo chase the lingering shades that cloak'd the earth,Wakening the animals in every wood,No truce to sorrow find while rolls the sun;And, when again I see the glistening stars,Still wander, weeping, wishing for the day.
When sober evening chases the bright day,And this our darkness makes for others dawn,Pensive I look upon the cruel starsWhich framed me of such pliant passionate earth,And curse the day that e'er I saw the sun,Which makes me native seem of wildest wood.
And yet methinks was ne'er in any wood,So wild a denizen, by night or day,As she whom thus I blame in shade and sun:Me night's first sleep o'ercomes not, nor the dawn,For though in mortal coil I tread the earth,My firm and fond desire is from the stars.
Ere up to you I turn, O lustrous stars,Or downwards in love's labyrinthine wood,Leaving my fleshly frame in mouldering earth,Could I but pity find in her, one dayWould many years redeem, and to the dawnWith bliss enrich me from the setting sun!
Oh! might I be with her where sinks the sun,No other eyes upon us but the stars,Alone, one sweet night, ended by no dawn,Nor she again transfigured in green wood,To cheat my clasping arms, as on the day,When Phoebus vainly follow'd her on earth.
I shall lie low in earth, in crumbling wood.And clustering stars shall gem the noon of day,Ere on so sweet a dawn shall rise that sun.
Words in this poem
- wakening n.
- The act of one who wakens; esp., the act of ceasing to sleep; an awakening.
- 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.]
- labyrinthine a.
- Pertaining to, or like, a labyrinth; labyrinthal.
- phoebus n.
- Apollo; the sun god.
- 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
Night Brings Him No Rest. He Is the Prey of Despair 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, Night Brings Him No Rest. He Is the Prey of Despair, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/night-brings-him-no-rest-he-is-the-prey-of-despair.html, id L14499.
Form and metre
Night Brings Him No Rest. He Is the Prey of Despair is 39 lines in 7 verse paragraphs. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%). 95% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 10% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter, other poems in blank verse.
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.
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 |
|---|---|---|
| To every animal that dwells on earth, | 10 | ·/˘/˘˘···· |
| Except to those which have in hate the sun, | 10 | ·········· |
| Their time of labour is while lasts the day; | 10 | ···/······ |
| But when high heaven relumes its thousand stars, | 10 | ···/···/˘· |
| This seeks his hut, and that its native wood, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Each finds repose, at least until the dawn. | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| But I, when fresh and fair begins the dawn | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| To chase the lingering shades that cloak'd the earth, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Wakening the animals in every wood, | 10 | /˘·/˘˘·/˘· |
| No truce to sorrow find while rolls the sun; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And, when again I see the glistening stars, | 10 | ··˘/···/˘· |
| Still wander, weeping, wishing for the day. | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘··· |
| When sober evening chases the bright day, | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘··· |
| And this our darkness makes for others dawn, | 10 | ··//˘··/˘· |
| Pensive I look upon the cruel stars | 10 | /˘·····/˘· |
| Which framed me of such pliant passionate earth, | 10 | ·····/˘/˘· |
| And curse the day that e'er I saw the sun, | 10 | ·········· |
| Which makes me native seem of wildest wood. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And yet methinks was ne'er in any wood, | 10 | ··˘/···/˘· |
| So wild a denizen, by night or day, | 10 | ···/˘˘···· |
| As she whom thus I blame in shade and sun: | 10 | ·········· |
| Me night's first sleep o'ercomes not, nor the dawn, | 10 | ·········· |
| For though in mortal coil I tread the earth, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| My firm and fond desire is from the stars. | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| Ere up to you I turn, O lustrous stars, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Or downwards in love's labyrinthine wood, | 10 | ·/˘···˘/·· |
| Leaving my fleshly frame in mouldering earth, | 10 | /˘·/˘··/˘· |
| Could I but pity find in her, one day | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Would many years redeem, and to the dawn | 10 | ·/˘·˘/···· |
| With bliss enrich me from the setting sun! | 10 | ··˘/···/˘· |
| Oh! might I be with her where sinks the sun, | 10 | ·········· |
| No other eyes upon us but the stars, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Alone, one sweet night, ended by no dawn, | 10 | ˘/···/˘··· |
| Nor she again transfigured in green wood, | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| To cheat my clasping arms, as on the day, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| When Phoebus vainly follow'd her on earth. | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘··· |
| I shall lie low in earth, in crumbling wood. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And clustering stars shall gem the noon of day, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Ere on so sweet a dawn shall rise that sun. | 10 | ·········· |
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