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The Sonnet
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A sonnet is a lyric poem consisting of fourteen lines written in iambic pentameter with a definite rhyme scheme and a definite thought structure
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A lyric poem Deals with emotions, feelings
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Iambic pentameter consists of five measures, units, or meters, of iambs
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An iamb is a metrical foot consisting of an unaccented syllable U followed by an accented syllable /. U / U / a gain U / U / U / U / im mor tal ize
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Iambic pentameter U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / One day I wrote her name u pon the strand, U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / But came the waves and wash ed it a way: U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / A gain I wrote it with a sec ond hand, U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / U / But came the tide, and made my pains his prey Edmund Spenser, Amoretti, Sonnet 75 1 2 3 4 5
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Rhyme scheme Petrarchan (Italian) rhyme scheme: abba, abba, cd, cd, cd abba, abba, cd, cd, cd abba, abba, cde, cde abba, abba, cde, cde Shakespearean (English, or Elizabethan) rhyme scheme: abab, cdcd, efef, gg
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The two major sonnet forms: Petrarchan (Italian) ABB AOctave (8 lines) ABB AThe TURN CDE CSestet (6 lines) DEShakespeareanABABCD C3 quatrains DE FThe TURN EF GRhyming G Couplet
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Thought structure Octave/ sestet The octave, eight lines, presents a situation or idea. The sestet (sextet), six lines, responds, to the situation or idea in the octave. Quatrain, quatrain, quatrain, couplet Each quatrain, four lines, describes and idea or situation which leads to a conclusion or response in the couplet, two lines.
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The Turn of the Sonnet A sonnet’s turn is the point in the sonnet where the poet changes perspective or alters his/her approach to description. This often results in a sonnet following a “position- contrasting position” type of structure, or occasionally a “change of heart” in the poet at the end of the verse. Look at this sonnet as an example: Notice that the poem’s turn is a change from discussing what Sleep itself is to what the poet will offer Sleep as tribute if Sleep comes to him. Notice that the poem’s turn is a change from discussing what Sleep itself is to what the poet will offer Sleep as tribute if Sleep comes to him. Sonnet 39 Come, Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace, The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, Th' indifferent judge between the high and low; With shield of proof shield me from out the press Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw! O make in me those civil wars to cease! - I will good tribute pay if thou do so. Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed, A chamber deaf of noise and blind of light, A rosy garland, and a weary head; And if these things, as being thine in right, Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me, Livelier than elsewhere, Stella's image see. Sir Phillip Sydney
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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 dimmed, And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed: But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st, So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. A B A B C D C D E F E F G G
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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 dimmed, And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed: But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st, So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. The octave describes the ways in which the summer’s day is inferior to the beloved. The sestet describes the ways in which the beloved is superior to the summer’s day.
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Sonnet 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, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts my self 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 remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings. For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings. The diction of the octave implies the speaker’s self-pity and depression. The sestet’s diction, in conrast, is joyful.
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The Modern Sonnet Sonnet All we need is fourteen lines, well, thirteen now, and after this one just a dozen to launch a little ship on love's storm-tossed seas, then only ten more left like rows of beans. How easily it goes unless you get Elizabethan and insist the iambic bongos must be played and rhymes positioned at the ends of lines, one for every station of the cross. But hang on here while we make the turn into the final six where all will be resolved, where longing and heartache will find an end, where Laura will tell Petrarch to put down his pen, take off those crazy medieval tights, blow out the lights, and come at last to bed. Billy Collins
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Sonnet 89 – Pablo Neruda I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way in which there is no I or you so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand so intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close
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