For E. Mc C
That was my counter-blade under Leonardo Terrone,Master of Fence.
Gone while your tastes were keen to you,Gone where the grey winds call to you,By that high fencer, even Death,Struck of the blade that no man parrieth;Such is your fence, one saith,One that hath known you.Drew you your sword most gallantlyMade you your pass most valiantly'Gainst that grey fencer, even Death.
Gone as a gust of breathFaith! no man tarrieth,"Se il cor ti manca" but it failed thee not!"Non ti fidar" it is the sword that speaks"In me."Thou trusted'st in thyself and met the blade'Thout mask or gauntlet, and art laidAs memorable broken blades that beKept as bold trophies of old pageantry.As old Toledos past their days of warAre kept mnemonic of the strokes they bore,So art thou with us, being good to keepIn our heart's sword-rack, though thy sword-arm sleep.
Words in this poem
- saith
- 3d pers. sing. pres. of Say.
- gallantly adv.
- In a polite or courtly manner; like a gallant or wooer.
- gauntlet n.
- A glove of such material that it defends the hand from wounds. [F. gantelet, dim. of gant glove, LL. wantus, of Teutonic origin; cf. D. want, Sw. & Dan. vante, Icel. vöttr, for vantr.]
- memorable a.
- Worthy to be remembered; very important or remarkable. [L. memorabilis, fr. memorare to bring to remembrance, fr. memor mindful, remembering. See Memory, and cf. Memorabilia.]
- pageantry n.
- Scenic shows or spectacles, taken collectivelly; spectacular guality; splendor.
- mnemonic a.
- Assisting in memory. [Gr. mind.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
For E. Mc C is in the public domain. This text is taken from Personae, Project Gutenberg ebook #41162; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Ezra Pound, For E. Mc C, in Personae (1909), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #41162, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/pound-personae/for-e-mc-c.html, id L01209.
Form and metre
For E. Mc C is 24 lines in 3 stanzas. 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.2 syllables. 3 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 38% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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.
- 2 AABBBA--B youA · youA · deathB · parriethB · saithB · youA · gallantly · valiantly · deathB
- 3 AA--BCCB-DDEE breathA · tarriethA · not · speaks · meB · bladeC · laidC · beB · pageantry · warD · boreD · keepE · sleepE
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. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| That was my counter-blade under Leonardo Terrone, | 13 | ···/····˘/˘·· |
| Master of Fence. | 4 | /˘·· |
| Gone while your tastes were keen to you, | 8 | ········ |
| Gone where the grey winds call to you, | 8 | ········ |
| By that high fencer, even Death, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Struck of the blade that no man parrieth; | 9 | ········· |
| Such is your fence, one saith, | 6 | ······ |
| One that hath known you. | 5 | ····· |
| Drew you your sword most gallantly | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| Made you your pass most valiantly | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| 'Gainst that grey fencer, even Death. | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Gone as a gust of breath | 6 | ······ |
| Faith! no man tarrieth, | 5 | ····· |
| "Se il cor ti manca" but it failed thee not! | 12 | ·/···/˘····· |
| "Non ti fidar" it is the sword that speaks | 10 | ·········· |
| "In me." | 2 | ·· |
| Thou trusted'st in thyself and met the blade | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| 'Thout mask or gauntlet, and art laid | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| As memorable broken blades that be | 10 | ·/˘˘˘/˘··· |
| Kept as bold trophies of old pageantry. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘˘ |
| As old Toledos past their days of war | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| Are kept mnemonic of the strokes they bore, | 10 | ··˘/˘····· |
| So art thou with us, being good to keep | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| In our heart's sword-rack, though thy sword-arm sleep. | 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.