Sonnets-a form of expression

Means “a little sound or song” Traditionally, it is a 14-line poem written

in iambic pentameter Employs a specific rhyme scheme Tightly structured in organization Two main forms of sonnets (provide the models

from which all other sonnets are based):PetrarchanShakespearean

Divided into two sectionsOctave: 1st eight lines

Rhyme scheme: a b b a a b b a Presents an argument, observation, question

Sestet: remaining 6 lines Rhyme scheme not as strict as octave Examples: c d c d c d

c d e c d e Does not in a couplet! Presents the counterargument, clarification, or

whatever answer the octave demands

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.

Shakespearean Sonnet Consists of 3 quatrains (stanzas containing

4 lines) and a couplet (2 rhyming lines) Quatrain 1: a b a b Quatrain 2: c d c d Quatrain 3: e f e f Couplet: g g

Each quatrain develops a specific idea, but is closely related to the ideas in the other quatrains

Couplet plays a pivotal role-usually is a conclusion to the poem (sometimes it can refute points previously stated in the poem)

Sonnet 130-ShakespeareanMy 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 damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delightThan in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I knowThat 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 rareAs any she belied with false compare.

What type of sonnet is this?My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!And yet they seem alive and quiveringAgainst my tremulous hands which loose the stringAnd let them drop down on my knee tonight.This said—he wished to have me in his sightOnce, as a friend: this fixed a day in springTo come and touch my hand. . . a simple thing,Yes I wept for it—this . . . the paper's light. . .Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailedAs if God's future thundered on my past.This said, I am thine—and so its ink has paledWith lying at my heart that beat too fast.And this . . . 0Love, thy words have ill availedIf, what this said, I dared repeat at last!

What type of sonnet is this?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.