Sonnet XCIV
If, which our valley bars, this wall of stone,From which its present name we closely trace,Were by disdainful nature rased, and thrownIts back to Babel and to Rome its face;Then had my sighs a better pathway knownTo where their hope is yet in life and grace:They now go singly, yet my voice all own;And, where I send, not one but finds its place.There too, as I perceive, such welcome sweetThey ever find, that none returns again,But still delightedly with her remain.My grief is from the eyes, each morn to meet--Not the fair scenes my soul so long'd to see--Toil for my weary limbs and tears for me.
Words in this poem
- babel n.
- The city and tower in the land of Shinar, where the confusion of languages took place. [Heb. Babel, the name of the capital of Babylonia; in Genesis associated with the idea of "confusion"]
- pathway n.
- A footpath; a beaten track; any path or course. Also used figuratively.
- delightedly adv.
- With delight; gladly.
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Sonnet XCIV 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 XCIV, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/sonnet-xciv.html, id L14630.
Form and metre
Sonnet XCIV 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 93%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 21% 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 stoneA · traceB · thrownB · faceA · knownA · graceB · ownB · placeA · sweetC · againD · remainC · meetD · seeC · meD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| If, which our valley bars, this wall of stone, | 10 | ··//˘····· |
| From which its present name we closely trace, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Were by disdainful nature rased, and thrown | 10 | ··˘/˘/˘··· |
| Its back to Babel and to Rome its face; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Then had my sighs a better pathway known | 10 | ·····/˘/·· |
| To where their hope is yet in life and grace: | 10 | ·········· |
| They now go singly, yet my voice all own; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And, where I send, not one but finds its place. | 10 | ·········· |
| There too, as I perceive, such welcome sweet | 10 | ····˘/·/˘· |
| They ever find, that none returns again, | 10 | ·/˘···˘/˘/ |
| But still delightedly with her remain. | 10 | ··˘/˘˘··˘/ |
| My grief is from the eyes, each morn to meet-- | 10 | ·········· |
| Not the fair scenes my soul so long'd to see-- | 10 | ·········· |
| Toil for my weary limbs and tears for me. | 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.