Nott
Once more, ye balmy gales, I feel you blow;Again, sweet hills, I mark the morning beamsGild your green summits; while your silver streamsThrough vales of fragrance undulating flow.But you, ye dreams of bliss, no longer hereGive life and beauty to the glowing scene:For stern remembrance stands where you have been,And blasts the verdure of the blooming year.O Laura! Laura! in the dust with thee,Would I could find a refuge from despair!Is this thy boasted triumph. Love, to tearA heart thy coward malice dares not free;And bid it live, while every hope is fled,To weep, among the ashes of the dead?
Words in this poem
- balmy a.
- Having the qualities of balm; odoriferous; aromatic; assuaging; soothing; refreshing; mild.
- laura n.
- A number of hermitages or cells in the same neighborhood occupied by anchorites who were under the same superior. C. Kingsley.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Nott 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, Nott, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/nott-34.html, id L14929.
Form and metre
Nott 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 95%). 100% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 29% 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 blowA · beamsB · streamsB · flowA · hereA · sceneB · beenB · yearA · theeC · despairD · tearC · freeD · fledC · deadD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Once more, ye balmy gales, I feel you blow; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Again, sweet hills, I mark the morning beams | 10 | ˘/·····/˘· |
| Gild your green summits; while your silver streams | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Through vales of fragrance undulating flow. | 10 | ···/˘/˘·˘· |
| But you, ye dreams of bliss, no longer here | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Give life and beauty to the glowing scene: | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| For stern remembrance stands where you have been, | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| And blasts the verdure of the blooming year. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| O Laura! Laura! in the dust with thee, | 10 | ·/˘/˘····· |
| Would I could find a refuge from despair! | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| Is this thy boasted triumph. Love, to tear | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| A heart thy coward malice dares not free; | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| And bid it live, while every hope is fled, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| To weep, among the ashes of the dead? | 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.