Sonnet XLVIII
'Twas time at last from so long war to findSome peace or truce, and, haply, both were nigh,But Death their welcome feet has turn'd behind,Who levels all distinctions, low as high;And as a cloud dissolves before the wind,So she, who led me with her lustrous eye,Whom ever I pursue with faithful mind,Her fair life briefly ending, sought the sky.Had she but stay'd, as I grew changed and oldHer tone had changed, and no distrust had beenTo parley with me on my cherish'd ill:With what frank sighs and fond I then had toldMy lifelong toils, which now from heaven, I ween,She sees, and with me sympathises still.
Words in this poem
- haply adv.
- By hap, chance, luck, or accident; perhaps; it may be.
- lifelong a.
- Lasting or continuing through life. [Life + long. Cf. Livelong.]
- ween v. i.
- To think; to imagine; to fancy. [OE. wenen, AS. w, fr. w hope, expectation, opinion; akin to D. waan, OFries. w, OS. & OHG. wan, G. wahn delusion, Icel. van hope, expectation, Goth. w, and D. w]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Sonnet XLVIII 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 XLVIII, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/sonnet-xlviii.html, id L14922.
Form and metre
Sonnet XLVIII 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 92%). 98% 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 findA · nighB · behindB · highA · windA · eyeB · mindB · skyA · oldC · beenD · illC · toldD · weenC · stillD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| 'Twas time at last from so long war to find | 10 | ·········· |
| Some peace or truce, and, haply, both were nigh, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| But Death their welcome feet has turn'd behind, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Who levels all distinctions, low as high; | 10 | ·/˘·˘/˘··· |
| And as a cloud dissolves before the wind, | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| So she, who led me with her lustrous eye, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Whom ever I pursue with faithful mind, | 10 | ·/˘·˘/·/˘· |
| Her fair life briefly ending, sought the sky. | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Had she but stay'd, as I grew changed and old | 10 | ·········· |
| Her tone had changed, and no distrust had been | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| To parley with me on my cherish'd ill: | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| With what frank sighs and fond I then had told | 10 | ·········· |
| My lifelong toils, which now from heaven, I ween, | 10 | ·//····/·· |
| She sees, and with me sympathises still. | 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.