Sonnet XVII
Who will believe my verse in time to come,If it were fill’d with your most high deserts?Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tombWhich hides your life, and shows not half your parts.If I could write the beauty of your eyes,And in fresh numbers number all your graces,The age to come would say ‘This poet lies;Such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.’So should my papers, yellow’d with their age,Be scorn’d, like old men of less truth than tongue,And your true rights be term’d a poet’s rageAnd stretched metre of an antique song:But were some child of yours alive that time,You should live twice,—in it, and in my rhyme.
About this text
Sonnet XVII is in the public domain. This text is taken from Shakespeare's Sonnets, Project Gutenberg ebook #1041; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: William Shakespeare, Sonnet XVII, in The Sonnets (1609), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1041, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/shakespeare-sonnets/sonnet-17.html, id L00035.
Form and metre
Sonnet XVII is 14 lines in a single stanza. It rhymes ABABCDCDEFEFGG, the pattern of the English sonnet. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.1 syllables. 3 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 14% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other English 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 ABABCDCDEFEFGG comeA · desertsB · tombA · partsB · eyesC · gracesD · liesC · facesD · ageE · tongueF · rageE · songF · timeG · rhymeG
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Who will believe my verse in time to come, | 10 | ··˘/······ |
| If it were fill’d with your most high deserts? | 10 | ········/˘ |
| Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb | 10 | ··/······· |
| Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts. | 10 | ·········· |
| If I could write the beauty of your eyes, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| And in fresh numbers number all your graces, | 11 | ···/˘/˘··/˘ |
| The age to come would say ‘This poet lies; | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.’ | 11 | ·/˘/˘··/˘/˘ |
| So should my papers, yellow’d with their age, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Be scorn’d, like old men of less truth than tongue, | 10 | ·········· |
| And your true rights be term’d a poet’s rage | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And stretched metre of an antique song: | 10 | ··˘/˘··˘/· |
| But were some child of yours alive that time, | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| You should live twice,—in it, and in my rhyme. | 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.