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Updated: May 28, 2025
It was a sign of mature life of something more than mere school-girlishness. Like the lover in the Elizabethan sonnet, 'She had been vexed, if vexed she had not been! 'Come in, David, said Mr. Ancrum, opening the door of his little sitting-room in Mortimer Street. 'You're rather late, but I don't wonder. Such a wind! I could hardly stand against it myself. But, then, I'm an atomy.
Well, you have to compose a sonnet. You are a poet because you are low. Isn't it enough to make the stars fall! A little more, and they would make you wear their old shoes. "Who have you got there, my dear? How ugly he is! Who is that man?" "I do not know. A sort of scholar, whom I feed." Thus converse these idiots, without even lowering their voice. You hear, and remain mechanically amiable.
I can fancy that a writer after spending a morning in the composition of a political article on the whisper of a Cabinet Minister, wrote a sonnet after lunch, and a book review before dinner. Let us see in what mood they took their advancement! Let us examine their temper but in book reviewing only, for that alone concerns us!
This introduction of the final couplet was a violation of the Italian rule, which may be fairly considered as prejudicial to the harmony of the whole structure, and which has insensibly caused the English sonnet to terminate in an epigram.
By this messenger, and on this good day, I commit the inclosed Holy Hymns and Sonnets which for the matter, not the workmanship, have yet escaped the fire to your judgment, and to your protection too, if you think them worthy of it; and I have appointed this inclosed Sonnet to usher them to your happy hand. "Your unworthiest servant, Unless your accepting him to be so have mended him, Jo.
For thine was a mournful and bitter-sweet lot. Laura never loved thee; and she was the mother of twelve children, not a single one of whom belonged to thee." He laughed with a sense of his own proud success in love, and seized Petrarch's sonnets, which lay near him on the table, to compare his own new sonnet with a similar one of Petrarch's.
He intoned slowly and effectively: "Ah, who shall dare to search in what sad maze Thenceforth their incommunicable ways Follow the desultory feet of Death?" Banneker took the book from him. Upon the sonnet a crushed bloom of the sage had left its spiced and fragrant stain. How came it there? Through but one possible agency of which Banneker could think. Io Welland!
In our previous article on the "New Life," we referred to the fact of this book being in great part composed of the account of a series of visions, thus connecting itself in the form of its imaginations with the great work of Dante's later years. As a description of things unseen except by the inward eye, this sonnet is bound in poetic connection to the nobler visions of the "Divina Commedia."
He lost his appetite, grew pale, shunned the society of even his dearest friends, took long, solitary walks, and wrote many an ode and sonnet in honor of the fair Donati. But she was indeed a divinity rather than a friend, and his oft-expressed delight in her many charms was rather intellectual than emotional and passionate.
In a second letter addressed to G.F. Fattucci, under date October 1549, he conveys "the thanks of Messer Tomao de' Cavalieri to Varchi for a certain little book of his which has been printed, and in which he speaks very honourably of himself, and not less so of me." In neither of these letters does Michelangelo take exception to Varchi's interpretation of Sonnet xxxi.
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