The Eyes of Laura Are the School of Virtue
Feels any fair the glorious wish to gainOf sense, of worth, of courtesy, the praise?On those bright eyes attentive let her gazeOf her miscall'd my love, but sure my foe.Honour to gain, with love of God to glow,Virtue more bright how native grace displays,May there be learn'd; and by what surest waysTo heaven, that for her coming pants, to go.The converse sweet, beyond what poets write,Is there; the winning silence, and the meekAnd saint-like manners man would paint in vain.The matchless beauty, dazzling to the sight,Can ne'er be learn'd; for bootless 'twere to seekBy art, what by kind chance alone we gain.
Words in this poem
- glorious a.
- Exhibiting attributes, qualities, or acts that are worthy of or receive glory; noble; praiseworthy; excellent; splendid; illustrious; inspiring admiration; as, glorious deeds. [OF. glorios, glorious, F. glorieux, fr. L. gloriosus. See Glory, n.]
- honour n.
- Esteem due or paid to worth; high estimation; respect; consideration; reverence; veneration; manifestation of respect or reverence. [OE. honor, honour, onour, onur, OF. honor, onor, honur, onur, honour, onour, F. honneur, fr. L. honor, honos.]
- bootless a.
- Unavailing; unprofitable; useless; without advantage or success. [From Boot profit.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Eyes of Laura Are the School of Virtue 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, The Eyes of Laura Are the School of Virtue, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/the-eyes-of-laura-are-the-school-of-virtue.html, id L14831.
Form and metre
The Eyes of Laura Are the School of Virtue 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%). 95% 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 gainA · praiseB · gazeB · foeA · glowA · displaysB · waysB · goA · writeC · meekD · vainC · sightD · seekC · gainD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Feels any fair the glorious wish to gain | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Of sense, of worth, of courtesy, the praise? | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| On those bright eyes attentive let her gaze | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| Of her miscall'd my love, but sure my foe. | 10 | ·········· |
| Honour to gain, with love of God to glow, | 10 | /˘········ |
| Virtue more bright how native grace displays, | 10 | /˘···/˘·˘/ |
| May there be learn'd; and by what surest ways | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| To heaven, that for her coming pants, to go. | 10 | ·/···/˘··· |
| The converse sweet, beyond what poets write, | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Is there; the winning silence, and the meek | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| And saint-like manners man would paint in vain. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| The matchless beauty, dazzling to the sight, | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘··· |
| Can ne'er be learn'd; for bootless 'twere to seek | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| By art, what by kind chance alone we gain. | 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.