Sonnet LXII
Till silver'd o'er by age my temples grow,Where Time by slow degrees now plants his grey,Safe shall I never be, in danger's wayWhile Love still points and plies his fatal bowI fear no more his tortures and his tricks,That he will keep me further to ensnareNor ope my heart, that, from without, he thereHis poisonous and ruthless shafts may fix.No tears can now find issue from mine eyes,But the way there so well they know to win,That nothing now the pass to them denies.Though the fierce ray rekindle me within,It burns not all: her cruel and severeForm may disturb, not break my slumbers here.
Words in this poem
- 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,]
- ensnare v. t.
- To catch in a snare. See Insnare.
- ruthless a.
- Having no ruth; cruel; pitiless.
- rekindle v. t.
- To kindle again.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Sonnet LXII 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, Sonnet LXII, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/sonnet-lxii.html, id L14582.
Form and metre
Sonnet LXII 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. 36% 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 growA · greyB · wayB · bowA · tricksA · ensnareB · thereB · fixA · eyesC · winD · deniesC · withinD · severeC · hereD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Till silver'd o'er by age my temples grow, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Where Time by slow degrees now plants his grey, | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| Safe shall I never be, in danger's way | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| While Love still points and plies his fatal bow | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| I fear no more his tortures and his tricks, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| That he will keep me further to ensnare | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| Nor ope my heart, that, from without, he there | 10 | ·········· |
| His poisonous and ruthless shafts may fix. | 10 | ·/˘˘·/˘··· |
| No tears can now find issue from mine eyes, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| But the way there so well they know to win, | 10 | ·········· |
| That nothing now the pass to them denies. | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| Though the fierce ray rekindle me within, | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| It burns not all: her cruel and severe | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| Form may disturb, not break my slumbers here. | 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.