what is a sonnet? 14 line rhymed poem. 3 quatrains, 1 couplet specific rhyme scheme written in...
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SHAKESPEARE & SONNETS
What is a sonnet?
14 line rhymed poem. 3 quatrains, 1 couplet Specific rhyme scheme Written in iambic pentameter Usually has a “turn.”
Iambic Pentameter An “iamb” is made up of two
syllables, one stressed, one unstressed.
* ex. To strive/ to seek/to find /and
not /to yield
Pentameter means that the line has five iambs per line, in other words, ten syllables.
The rhythm sounds like: da Dum da Dum da Dum da Dum
da Dum “When I do count the clock that tells
the time”
1 3 4 10
5 6 7 8 92
Shakespearean Sonnet
Shakespeare created a new form of the sonnet by creating a new rhyme scheme and structure:
Three quatrains with a couplet at the end.
Quatrain: 4 lined stanza. Couplet: 2 lines, usually rhymed.
The “Turn”
Most sonnets have a turn– a point in the poem where the poem changes.
In the Shakespearean sonnet, the three quatrains are setting up a sort of question, which is answered in the couplet at the end.
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.
Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? a
Thou art more lovely and more temperate: b
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, a
And summer's lease hath all too short a date, b
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, c
And often is his gold complexion dimmed, d
And every fair from fair sometime declines, c
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed. d
But thy eternal summer shall not fade, e
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, f
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade, e
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st. f
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, g
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. g
Elizabeth Barrett Browning How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. aI love thee to the depth and breadth and height b My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight b For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. a I love thee to the level of everyday's a Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. bI love thee freely, as men strive for Right; bI love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. a I love thee with the passion put to use cIn my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. dI love thee with a love I seemed to lose cWith my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath, d Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, cI shall but love thee better after death. d
Spring
Pollen floating thick on the little lake
in amorphous colonies of yellow seed.
Shifting, splitting with changes currents make,
they are the cast off, others took the lead.
The masses of the failed conception
remain for weeks in a blurred reflection
of a farm-pond bank and fence of barbed wire
as first sun of spring bears down noon fire.
Bright drifts pile up in corners and pits.
Winds kick up clouds with each gust.
All is tinged lemon by the fine bits;
even man's inventions cannot clean the dust
that is his price for the splendor of spring
and Nature's cost for life enduring.
Spring
Pollen floating thick on the little lake a
in amorphous colonies of yellow seed. b
Shifting, splitting with changes currents make, a
they are the cast off, others took the lead. b
The masses of the failed conception c
remain for weeks in a blurred reflection c
of a farm-pond bank and fence of barbed wire d
as first sun of spring bears down noon fire. d
Bright drifts pile up in corners and pits. e
Winds kick up clouds with each gust. f
All is tinged lemon by the fine bits; e
even man's inventions cannot clean the dust f
that is his price for the splendor of spring g
and Nature's cost for life enduring. g
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