On the Announcement of the Death of Laura
Woe for the 'witching look of that fair face!The port where ease with dignity combined!Woe for those accents, that each savage mindTo softness tuned, to noblest thoughts the base!And the sweet smile, from whence the dart I trace,Which now leaves death my only hope behind!Exalted soul, most fit on thrones to 've shined,But that too late she came this earth to grace!For you I still must burn, and breathe in you;For I was ever yours; of you bereft,Full little now I reck all other care.With hope and with desire you thrill'd me through,When last my only joy on earth I left:--But caught by winds each word was lost in air.
Words in this poem
- reck v. t.
- To make account of; to care for; to heed; to regard. [AS. reccan, remccan, to care for; akin to OS. rokian, OHG. ruochan, G. geruhen, Icel. rækja, also to E. reckon, rake an implement. See Rake, and cf. Reckon.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
On the Announcement of the Death of Laura 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, On the Announcement of the Death of Laura, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/on-the-announcement-of-the-death-of-laura.html, id L14838.
Form and metre
On the Announcement of the Death of Laura 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%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.1 syllables. 7% 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 faceA · combinedB · mindB · baseA · traceA · behindB · shinedB · graceA · youC · bereftD · careC · throughD · leftC · airD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Woe for the 'witching look of that fair face! | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| The port where ease with dignity combined! | 10 | ·····/˘˘˘/ |
| Woe for those accents, that each savage mind | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| To softness tuned, to noblest thoughts the base! | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| And the sweet smile, from whence the dart I trace, | 10 | ·········· |
| Which now leaves death my only hope behind! | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Exalted soul, most fit on thrones to 've shined, | 11 | ˘/˘········ |
| But that too late she came this earth to grace! | 10 | ·········· |
| For you I still must burn, and breathe in you; | 10 | ·········· |
| For I was ever yours; of you bereft, | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| Full little now I reck all other care. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| With hope and with desire you thrill'd me through, | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| When last my only joy on earth I left:-- | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| But caught by winds each word was lost in air. | 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.