Though in the Midst of Pain, He Deems Himself the Happiest of Men
I sang, who now lament; nor less delightThan in my song I found, in tears I find;For on the cause and not effect inclined,My senses still desire to scale that height:Whence, mildly if she smile or hardly smite,Cruel and cold her acts, or meek and kind,All I endure, nor care what weights they bind,E'en though her rage would break my armour quite.Let Love and Laura, world and fortune join,And still pursue their usual course for me,I care not, if unblest, in life to be.Let me or burn to death or living pine,No gentler state than mine beneath the sun,Since from a source so sweet my bitters run.
Words in this poem
- armour n.
- Defensive arms for the body; any clothing or covering worn to protect one's person in battle. [OE. armure, fr. F. armure, OF. armeure, fr. L. armatura. See Armature.]
- laura n.
- A number of hermitages or cells in the same neighborhood occupied by anchorites who were under the same superior. C. Kingsley.
- unblest a.
- Not blest; excluded from benediction; hence, accursed; wretched. [Pref. un- not + blessed, blest.]
- bitters n.
- A liquor, generally spirituous in which a bitter herb, leaf, or root is steeped.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Though in the Midst of Pain, He Deems Himself the Happiest of Men 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, Though in the Midst of Pain, He Deems Himself the Happiest of Men, in The Sonnets, Triumphs and Other Poems (1859), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #17650, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/petrarch-sonnets/though-in-the-midst-of-pain-he-deems-himself-the-happiest-of.html, id L14789.
Form and metre
Though in the Midst of Pain, He Deems Himself the Happiest of Men 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 95%). 100% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 7% 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 delightA · findB · inclinedB · heightA · smiteA · kindB · bindB · quiteA · joinC · meD · beC · pineD · sunC · runD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| I sang, who now lament; nor less delight | 10 | ····˘/··˘/ |
| Than in my song I found, in tears I find; | 10 | ·········· |
| For on the cause and not effect inclined, | 10 | ······˘/˘/ |
| My senses still desire to scale that height: | 10 | ·/˘·˘/···· |
| Whence, mildly if she smile or hardly smite, | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Cruel and cold her acts, or meek and kind, | 10 | /˘········ |
| All I endure, nor care what weights they bind, | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| E'en though her rage would break my armour quite. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Let Love and Laura, world and fortune join, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| And still pursue their usual course for me, | 10 | ··˘/·/˘··· |
| I care not, if unblest, in life to be. | 10 | ·········· |
| Let me or burn to death or living pine, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| No gentler state than mine beneath the sun, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Since from a source so sweet my bitters run. | 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.