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Moriwa

PostPosted: Fri Jan 05, 2007 8:00 pm


They're usually shortchanged- but there are over 150 of them! How can they be ignored?

Does anyone have any particular favorites/ thoughts on the sonnets in general?
PostPosted: Fri Jan 05, 2007 8:14 pm


I tend to prefer his plays, but the sonnets are lovely too. My favorite sonnet is the 60th:

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,
Crooked elipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

Shakespeares Girl


oodle_boodle

PostPosted: Sat Jan 13, 2007 11:42 pm


The plays are the best, but from the sonnets I liked 18 and 116

#18
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and 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 og heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair some time declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of 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
PostPosted: Sun Jan 14, 2007 12:09 pm


Ikes, thats a hard one. There are so many to choose from! I haven't read them all but from the ones I have, I guess my favourite is probably number 14 or at least I think it is number fourteen. It goes:

Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;
And yet methinks I have Astronomy,
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself, to store thou wouldst convert;
Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.

I dont really know why I like it the most and I dont really know what it means because I havent really tried to figure it out but I just like it.

Lady_Orchard

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PostPosted: Thu Jan 18, 2007 8:19 am


My favourite is number 89:

Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
And I will comment upon that offence:
Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt,
Against thy reasons making no defence.
Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill,
To set a form upon desired change,
As I'll myself disgrace; knowing thy will,
I will acquaintance strangle, and look strange;
Be absent from thy walks; and in my tongue
Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong,
And haply of our old acquaintance tell.
For thee, against myself I'll vow debate,
For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost
hate.

(I know quite a few off by heart though redface )
PostPosted: Fri Jan 19, 2007 3:39 pm


I like sonnets 44 and 45 for some reason. 44 and 45 are connected by theme and symbolism.
*Points toward really great site with all the sonnets, and analysis of a fair number of them.*
Just so I don't have to have an excessively long post just with the two sonnets.

And any theories on who the 'he' is that Shakespeare refers to in many of the sonnets?

FORTRAN77
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natnotgnat

PostPosted: Sat Feb 03, 2007 2:46 pm


Every English AP Kid memorized Sonnet 116, our teacher's favorite. We would stand in a circle and hold hands and recite it. I thought it was fantastic, and I shall never forget it:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds
Or bends with the remover to remove
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken
It is the star to every wandering bark
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks
But bears it out even to the edge of doom
If this be error and upon me proved
I never writ, nor no man ever loved!
PostPosted: Sun Feb 04, 2007 7:29 pm


I'm loving 71 right now...

Noe longer mourne for me when I am dead,
Then you shall heare the surly sullen bell
Giue warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world with vildest wormes to dwell:
Nay if you read this line, remember not,
The hand that writ it, for I loue you so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O if (I say) you looke vpon this verse,
When I (perhaps) compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poore name reherse;
But let your loue euen with my life decay.
Least the wise world should looke into your mone,
And mocke you with me after I am gon.

(Sorry, this is in Folio-ish spelling!)

Moriwa


paradoxical

PostPosted: Thu Feb 08, 2007 2:55 pm


My favorite at the moment is 100..

Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey,
If Time have any wrinkle graven there;
If any, be a satire to decay,
And make Time's spoils despised every where.
Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.
PostPosted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 9:46 am


I thought he wrote 147 sonnets. My favorite sonnet that I have heard (which is not really a sonnet) is:

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;
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of the 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.

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Moriwa

PostPosted: Mon Mar 05, 2007 8:11 pm


Any fans of 130- 'My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun?'

It's so snarky... ha.
PostPosted: Fri Mar 09, 2007 11:39 am


My two favorite are "When in disgrace in fortune and men's eyes" and "Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing."

bardlover
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P a x x e

Sugary Lop

PostPosted: Tue Mar 20, 2007 7:42 am


*thrusts hands into air and waves it about*

I adore My Mistress' Eyes.

"I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
"

C:
PostPosted: Thu May 17, 2007 12:17 pm


I ADORE number 36. So cool, especially if you catch the reference to 'the Tempest'.

Sanami2315


Ksenia Sergeevina

PostPosted: Tue May 22, 2007 6:45 pm


Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no, it is an ever fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring barque,
Whose worth's unknown although his height be taken.

Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
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