2. Choose one Petrarchan sonnet and one Shakespearean sonnet from Unit 4. They do not have to be written by Petrarch and Shakespeare, although they may be. For each of the two, identify the type of sonnet it is, and discuss the important elements of that type of sonnet. If the sonnet of your choice changes the classic form in some way, describe how. Identify the main idea of the sonnet and how it develops from one part of the sonnet to another. Sonnet 18 by Francesco Petrarcha Ashamed sometimes thy beauties should remain As
yet unsung, sweet lady, in my rhyme; When first I saw thee I recall the time. Pleasing as
none shall ever please again. But no fit polish can my verse attain, Not mine is strength
to try the task sublime: My genius, measuring its power to climb, From such attempt
doth prudently refrain. Full oft I oped my lips to chant thy name; Then in mid-utterance
the lay was lost: But say what muse can dare so bold a flight? Full oft I strove in
measure to indite; But ah, the pen, the hand, the vein I boast, At once were vanquish’d
by the mighty theme! Sonnet 28 by Francesco Petrarcha Alone, and lost in thought, the
desert glade Measuring I roam with ling’ring steps and slow; And still a watchful glance
around me throw, Anxious to shun the print of human tread: No other means I find, no
surer aid From the world’s prying eye to hide my woe: So well my wild disorder’d
gestures show, And lovelorn looks, the fire within me bred, That well I deem each
mountain, wood and plain, And river knows, what I from man conceal, What dreary hues
my life’s fond prospects dim. Yet whate’er wild or savage paths I’ve ta’en, Where’er I
wander, love attends me still, Soft whisp’ring to my soul, and I to him.

Sonnet 106 by William Shakespeare When in the chronicle of wasted time I see
descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of
ladies dead and lovely knights, Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best, Of hand, of
foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have expressed Even such a
beauty as you master now. So all their praises are but prophecies Of this our time, all
you prefiguring; And for they looked but with divining eyes, They had not skill enough
your worth to sing: For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder,
but lack tongues to praise.