SonnetsYou Wrote Them

(If You Were “FRESH”)

The SonneteersPetrarchSpenser

ShakespeareMilton

Browning

Wordsworth

Gray

Shakespeare's sonnets were published in 1609, but most of them were written  much earlier, probably in the 1590’s, when Sir Philip Sidney’s Astrophel and Stella established the vogue of the Elizabethan sonnet cycle (a group of sonnets that together produce an overall message). There are 154 sonnets in all, and together they suggest a “story”, although the exact details of that “story” are elusive (cannot get a hold of them) and mysterious. The first 126 sonnets are addressed mainly to a young man of great beauty and promise. The speaker expresses his affection and admiration for the young man, urges him to marry and perpetuate (continue) his virtues (good qualities) through children, and warns him about the destructive power of time, age, and moral weakness. Sonnets 76-86 of this group are concerned with a rival poet who has also addressed poems to the young man. Sonnets 127-152 are addressed to a lady with dark hair, eyes, and complexion. Both the speaker and the young man seem to be involved with her romantically.

Shakespeare’s Sonnet Cycle:

The Fair Young Man - 1 through 126

Rival Poet - 76 through 86

The Dark Lady - 127 through 152

There has always been much speculation (guesswork) about the biographical meaning of the “story” of Shakespeare’s sonnets, but no one has ever produced a convincing theory connecting it with the facts of Shakespeare’s life. The situations and relationships suggested in the sonnets are best understood as the fictional means through which Shakespeare explores universal (common) questions about time and death, about beauty and moral integrity (uprightness), about love, and about poetry itself.

Romeo and Juliet: Prologue to Act I

Two households, both alike in dignity,(In fair Verona, where we lay our scene),From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,Where civil blood makes civil hands

unclean.  From forth the fatal loins of these two foesA pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;Whose misadventured piteous overthrowsDoth with their death bury their parents'

strife.  The fearful passage of their death-mark'd

love,And the continuance of their parents' rage,Which, but their children's end, nought

could remove,Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;   The which, if you with patient ears attend,What here shall miss, our toil shall strive

to mend.  

Romeo and Juliet: Prologue to Act I

Two households, both alike in dignity,

(In fair Verona, where we lay our scene),

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.  

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.  

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

And the continuance of their parents' rage,

Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,

Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;   

The which, if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.  

How to Tell Who Wrote It

PetrarchSpenser

Shakespeare

ABAB CDCD EFEF GG

ABAB BCBC CDCD EE

ABBA ABBA CDE CDE

Romeo and Juliet: Prologue to Act I

Two households, both alike in dignity,A

(In fair Verona, where we lay our scene),B

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,A

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.  B

From forth the fatal loins of these two foesC

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;D

Whose misadventured piteous overthrowsC

Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.  D

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,E

And the continuance of their parents' rage,F

Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, E

Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;   F

The which, if you with patient ears attend,G

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.   G

One unit of rhythm is called

a foot !

foot = two syllables no-thingto-night

IAMBIC = Unstressed

syllable followed by a

stressed syllable

PENTAMETER = Five feet

Two house-holds, both a-like in dig-ni-ty,

(In fair Ver-on-a, where we lay our scene),

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where ci-vil blood makes ci-vil hands un-clean.  

Soleasi Nel Mio Cor

She ruled in beauty o'er this heart of mine, A noble lady in a humble home, And now her time for heavenly bliss has

come, 'Tis I am mortal proved, and she divine. The soul that all its blessings must resign, And love whose light no more on earth

finds room, Might rend the rocks with pity for their

doom, Yet none their sorrows can in words

enshrine; They weep within my heart; and ears are

deaf Save mine alone, and I am crushed with

care, And naught remains to me save mournful

breath. Assuredly but dust and shade we are, Assuredly desire is blind and brief, Assuredly its hope but ends in death.

XVIII (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.

I (1)

Happy ye leaves! whenas those lily hands,

Which hold my life in their dead doing might,

Shall handle you, and hold in love's soft bands,

Like captives trembling at the victor's sight.

And happy lines! on which, with starry light,

Those lamping eyes will deign sometimes to look,

And read the sorrows of my dying sprite, Written with tears in heart's close bleeding

book. And happy rhymes! bathed in the sacred

brook Of Helicon, whence she derived is, When ye behold that angel's blessed look, My soul's long lacked food, my heaven's

bliss. Leaves, lines, and rhymes seek her to

please alone, Whom if ye please, I care for other none.

XXX (30)

My love is like to ice, and I to fire;how comes it then that this her cold so greatis not dissolv'd through my so hot desire,but harder grows the more I her intreat?Or how comes it that my exceeding heatis not delayed by her heart frozen cold:but that I burn much more in boiling sweat,and feel my flames augmented manifold?What more miraculous thing may be toldthat fire which all things melts, should harden

ice:and ice which is congeal'd with senseless cold,should kindle fire by wonderful device.Such is the power of love in gentle mind,that it can alter all the course of kind.

CXXX (130)

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.

XXIX (29)

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, Featur'd 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'.

XXIX (29)

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, Featur'd 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'.