The Sonnet

Petrarchan/Italian• ABBAABBACDCDCD• Petarch: father of Humanism

– the human form is manifest of the divine– individualism, emotionalism, hedonism

• 14th century Italy• Considered one of the first modern poets• Laura was his muse• Petrarchan conceit: a metaphor comparing

the beloved to the divine or great

Petrarch’s “Sonnet 159”In what bright realm, what sphere of radiant thought ADid Nature find the model whence she drew BThat delicate dazzling image where we view BHere on this earth what she in heaven wrought? AWhat fountain-haunting nymph, what dryad, sought AIn groves, such golden tresses ever threw BUpon the gust? What heart such virtues knew?— BThough her chief virtue with my death is frought. A

TURN/VOLTA

He looks in vain for heavenly beauty, he CWho never looked upon her perfect eyes, DThe vivid blue orbs turning brilliantly – CHe does not know how Love yields and denies; DHe only knows, who knows how sweetly she CCan talk and laugh, the sweetness of her sighs. D

Shakespearean/English• ABABCDCDEFEFGG

– Closing couplet usually plays with both ideas “closing” and/or “couple”

• Iambic pentameter• 16th and 17th century England• Humanistic elements• More realistic, lasting love• Anti-petrarchan conceits (“my mistress’s eyes

are nothing like the sun”)• Sonnet Sequence

Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 130”My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; ACoral is far more red than her lips’ red; BIf snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; AIf hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. BI have seen roses damask’d, red and white, CBut no such roses see I in her cheeks; DAnd in some perfumes is there more delight CThan in the breath that from my mistress reeks. DI love to hear her speak, yet will I know EThat music hath a far more pleasing sound; FI grant that I never saw a goddess go; EMy mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground. F

TURN/VOLTA

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare GAs any she belied with false compare. G

Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 30”When to the sessions of sweet silent thoughtI 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.

Create an English Sonnet

• Write several lines (a quatrain?) of a sonnet.

• Try to emulate Shakespeare’s ideas and language.

• Write in iambic pentameter and use the rhyme scheme.

• See how difficult it is?