Sonnet 61
Late tyr’d with woe, even ready for to pineWith rage of love, I call my Love unkinde.Shee in whose eyes, love though unfelt doth shine,Sweetely saide, I true love in her should finde.I joyed, but straight thus watred was my wine:That love she did, but with a love not blinde.Which would not let me, whome she lov’d decline.From Nobler course, fit for my birth and minde.And therefore her loves Authoritie;Wild me those Tempests of vaine love to flee:And Anchor fast my selfe on vertues shore.Alas if this the onely mettall be,Of love newe coyn’d to help my beggery:Deere, love me not, that you may love me more.
About this text
Sonnet 61 is in the public domain. This text is taken from Sir P.S.: His Astrophel and Stella Wherein the excellence of sweete poesie is concluded, Project Gutenberg ebook #56375; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Philip Sidney, Sonnet 61, in Astrophel and Stella (1591), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #56375, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/sidney-astrophel/sonnet-61.html, id L04817.
Form and metre
Sonnet 61 is 14 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 87%). 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.9 syllables. 7% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See 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 ABABABAB-CDC-D pineA · unkindeB · shineA · findeB · wineA · blindeB · declineA · mindeB · authoritie · fleeC · shoreD · beC · beggery · moreD
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Late tyr’d with woe, even ready for to pine | 10 | ····//˘··· |
| With rage of love, I call my Love unkinde. | 10 | ·········· |
| Shee in whose eyes, love though unfelt doth shine, | 10 | ·········· |
| Sweetely saide, I true love in her should finde. | 11 | ··········· |
| I joyed, but straight thus watred was my wine: | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| That love she did, but with a love not blinde. | 10 | ·········· |
| Which would not let me, whome she lov’d decline. | 10 | ········˘/ |
| From Nobler course, fit for my birth and minde. | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| And therefore her loves Authoritie; | 9 | ········· |
| Wild me those Tempests of vaine love to flee: | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| And Anchor fast my selfe on vertues shore. | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| Alas if this the onely mettall be, | 10 | ˘/···/˘··· |
| Of love newe coyn’d to help my beggery: | 10 | ·········· |
| Deere, love me not, that you may love me more. | 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.