Sonnets Another rousing presentation by your enthusiastic guide

Sonnets Another rousing presentation by your enthusiastic guide into the world of verse, Mr. Cyphers

What is a sonnet? • A fourteen line lyric poem that conforms to strict patterns of rhythm and rhyme • The word is derived from sonetto which means “little sound; song” in Italian

What is a sonnet? “A sonnet is fundamentally a dialectical construct which allows the poet to examine the nature and ramifications of two usually contrasting ideas, emotions, states of mind, beliefs, actions, events, images, etc. , by juxtaposing the two against each other, and possibly resolving or just revealing the tensions created and operative between the two. ”

Huh?

What is a sonnet? • Basically, in a sonnet, you show two related but differing things to the reader in order to communicate something about them.

Petrarchan (Italian) Sonnets The form of Sonnet popularized by Petrarch is called the Italian or Petrarchan Sonnet. It has two parts: An eight line section called the octave And a six line section called the sestet. These two parts make up a question-answer or problem-solution. The transition between the two parts is called the volta or turn and is usually found around the ninth line.

Sonnet 42 - Petrarch The spring returns, the spring wind softly blowing Sprinkles the grass with gleam and glitter of showers, Powdering pearl and diamond, dripping with flowers, Dropping wet flowers, dancing the winters going; The swallow twitters, the groves of midnight are glowing With nightingale music and madness; the sweet fierce powers Of love flame up through the earth; the seed-soul towers And trembles; nature is filled to overflowing… The spring returns, but there is no returning Of spring for me. O heart with anguish burning! She that unlocked all April in a breath Returns not…And these meadows, blossoms, birds These lovely gentle girls—words, empty words As bitter as the black estates of death!

Octave The spring returns, the spring wind softly blowing Sprinkles the grass with gleam and glitter of showers, Powdering pearl and diamond, dripping with flowers, Dropping wet flowers, dancing the winters going; The swallow twitters, the groves of midnight are glowing With nightingale music and madness; the sweet fierce powers Of love flame up through the earth; the seed-soul towers And trembles; nature is filled to overflowing… The spring returns, but there is no returning Of spring for me. O heart with anguish burning! She that unlocked all April in a breath Returns not…And these meadows, blossoms, birds These lovely gentle girls—words, empty words As bitter as the black estates of death!

Sestet The spring returns, the spring wind softly blowing Sprinkles the grass with gleam and glitter of showers, Powdering pearl and diamond, dripping with flowers, Dropping wet flowers, dancing the winters going; The swallow twitters, the groves of midnight are glowing With nightingale music and madness; the sweet fierce powers Of love flame up through the earth; the seed-soul towers And trembles; nature is filled to overflowing… The spring returns, but there is no returning Of spring for me. O heart with anguish burning! She that unlocked all April in a breath Returns not…And these meadows, blossoms, birds These lovely gentle girls—words, empty words As bitter as the black estates of death!

Where is the volta? The spring returns, the spring wind softly blowing Sprinkles the grass with gleam and glitter of showers, Powdering pearl and diamond, dripping with flowers, Dropping wet flowers, dancing the winters going; The swallow twitters, the groves of midnight are glowing With nightingale music and madness; the sweet fierce powers Of love flame up through the earth; the seed-soul towers And trembles; nature is filled to overflowing… The spring returns, but there is no returning Of spring for me. O heart with anguish burning! She that unlocked all April in a breath Returns not…And these meadows, blossoms, birds These lovely gentle girls—words, empty words As bitter as the black estates of death!

Shakespearean (English) Sonnets The form of Sonnet popularized by William Shakespeare is called the English or Shakespearean Sonnet. It is composed of three quatrains And a couplet. The rhyme scheme goes like this: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG

Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18 Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

The rhyme scheme goes like this: A B C D E F G G Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

First Quatrain Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Second Quatrain Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Third Quatrain Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Couplet Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Organization of ideas Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Logical organization Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee. A question and tentative answers

Logical organization Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? A question and tentative answers Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee. The turn

Logical organization Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? A question and tentative answers Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; The turn Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee. The final answer

Where is the volta or turn?

"London, 1802 " William Wordsworth Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart; Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life's common way, In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.

"Missing the Meteors " Charles Tennyson-Turner A hint of rain-a touch of lazy doubt. Sent me to bedward on that prime of nights, When the air met and burst the aerolites, Making the men stare and the children shout: Why did no beam from all that rout and rush Of darting meteors, pierce my drowsed head? Strike on the portals of my sleep? and flush My spirit through mine eyelids, in the stead Of that poor vapid dream? My soul was pained, My very soul, to have slept while others woke, While little children their delight outspoke, And in their eyes' small chambers entertained Far notions of the Kosmos! I mistook The purpose of that night-it had not rained.

"Scorn Not the Sonnet" William Wordsworth Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart; the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound; A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound; With it Camoens soothed an exile's grief; The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned His visionary brow: a glow-worm lamp, It cheered mild Spenser, called from Faery-land To struggle through dark ways; and when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The Thing became a trumpet; whence he blew Soul-animating strains--alas, too few!

"Ozymandias“ Percy Bysshe Shelley I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, (stamped on these lifeless things, ) The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.

“Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802“ William Wordsworth Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will: Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!

Sonnet 29 William Shakespeare When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Sonnet 71 William Shakespeare No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe. O, if, I say, you look upon this verse When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse. But let your love even with my life decay, Lest the wise world should look into your moan And mock you with me after I am gone.

Sonnet 116 William Shakespeare Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken. It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come. Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Sonnet 73 William Shakespeare That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

Sonnet 30 William Shakespeare When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe, And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight: Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.

Sonnet 130 William Shakespeare My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground: And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.

Meter § The basic rhythmic structure of a line of verse or prose.

Stress § English speakers communicate using alternating stressed and unstressed syllables. haberdasher forgotten Renaissance

Meter Jack and Jill went up the hill To fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after.

Iambic Pentameter § Groups of syllables are called feet. § An iambic foot has one stressed syllable and one unstressed syllable § How many feet in a line of iambic pentameter?

Iambic Pentameter Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? No longer mourn for me when I am dead My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun

_________ is/are nothing like_________ 4 beats 2 beats