The History of His Love; and Prayer for Help
Life's three first stages train'd my soul in partTo place its care on objects high and new,And to disparage what men often prize,But, left alone, and of her fatal courseAs yet uncertain, frolicsome, and free,She enter'd at spring-time a lovely wood.
A tender flower there was, born in that woodThe day before, whose root was in a partHigh and impervious e'en to spirit free;For many snares were there of forms so new,And such desire impell'd my sanguine course,That to lose freedom were to gain a prize.
Dear, sweet, yet perilous and painful prize!Which quickly drew me to that verdant wood,Doom'd to mislead me midway in life's course;The world I since have ransack'd part by part,For rhymes, or stones, or sap of simples new,Which yet might give me back the spirit, free.
But ah! I feel my body must be freeFrom that hard knot which is its richest prize,Ere medicine old or incantations newCan heal the wounds which pierced me in that wood,Thorny and troublous, where I play'd such part,Leaving it halt who enter'd with hot course.
Yes! full of snares and sticks, a difficult courseHave I to run, where easy foot and sureWere rather needed, healthy in each part;Stretch to me thy right hand in this wild wood,And let thy sun dispel my darkness new.
Look on my state, amid temptations new,Which, interrupting my life's tranquil course,Have made me denizen of darkling wood;If good, restore me, fetterless and free,My wand'ring consort, and be thine the prizeIf yet with thee I find her in blest part.
Lo! thus in part I put my questions new,If mine be any prize, or run its course,Be my soul free, or captived in close wood.
Words in this poem
- disparage n.
- Inequality in marriage; marriage with an inferior.
- midway n.
- The middle of the way or distance; a middle way or course.
- troublous a.
- Full of trouble; causing trouble.
- dispel v. t.
- To drive away by scattering, or so to cause to vanish; to clear away; to banish; to dissipate; as, to dispel a cloud, vapors, cares, doubts, illusions. [L. dispellere; dis- + pellere to push, drive. See Pulse a beating.]
- amid prep.
- In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
- darkling a.
- Becoming dark or gloomy; frowing.
- fetterless a.
- Free from fetters. Marston.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The History of His Love; and Prayer for Help 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 History of His Love; and Prayer for Help, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/the-history-of-his-love-and-prayer-for-help.html, id L14767.
Form and metre
The History of His Love; and Prayer for Help is 38 lines in 7 verse paragraphs. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 86%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 24% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter, other poems in blank verse.
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.
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Life's three first stages train'd my soul in part | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| To place its care on objects high and new, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And to disparage what men often prize, | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| But, left alone, and of her fatal course | 10 | ··˘/···/˘· |
| As yet uncertain, frolicsome, and free, | 10 | ··˘/˘/˘˘·· |
| She enter'd at spring-time a lovely wood. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| A tender flower there was, born in that wood | 10 | ·/˘/······ |
| The day before, whose root was in a part | 10 | ·········· |
| High and impervious e'en to spirit free; | 10 | ··˘/˘˘··/· |
| For many snares were there of forms so new, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| And such desire impell'd my sanguine course, | 10 | ··˘/˘/·/˘· |
| That to lose freedom were to gain a prize. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Dear, sweet, yet perilous and painful prize! | 10 | ···/˘˘·/˘· |
| Which quickly drew me to that verdant wood, | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Doom'd to mislead me midway in life's course; | 10 | ··˘/·/···· |
| The world I since have ransack'd part by part, | 10 | ·····/···· |
| For rhymes, or stones, or sap of simples new, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Which yet might give me back the spirit, free. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| But ah! I feel my body must be free | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| From that hard knot which is its richest prize, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Ere medicine old or incantations new | 10 | ·/˘··˘//˘· |
| Can heal the wounds which pierced me in that wood, | 10 | ·········· |
| Thorny and troublous, where I play'd such part, | 10 | /˘·/˘····· |
| Leaving it halt who enter'd with hot course. | 10 | /˘···/˘··· |
| Yes! full of snares and sticks, a difficult course | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Have I to run, where easy foot and sure | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Were rather needed, healthy in each part; | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘··· |
| Stretch to me thy right hand in this wild wood, | 10 | ·········· |
| And let thy sun dispel my darkness new. | 10 | ····˘/·/˘· |
| Look on my state, amid temptations new, | 10 | ····˘/˘/˘· |
| Which, interrupting my life's tranquil course, | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| Have made me denizen of darkling wood; | 10 | ···/˘˘·/˘· |
| If good, restore me, fetterless and free, | 10 | ··˘/·/˘˘·· |
| My wand'ring consort, and be thine the prize | 10 | ···˘/····· |
| If yet with thee I find her in blest part. | 10 | ·········· |
| Lo! thus in part I put my questions new, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| If mine be any prize, or run its course, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Be my soul free, or captived in close wood. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
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