Sunday, November 18, 2007

Sunday sonnet: William Wordsworth

Why the sonnet? Because it is a classic structure, and even the likes of William Wordsworth -- who made a name for himself shunning traditional meter -- still found refuge in the sonnet from time to time.

But, don't take my word for it. Here's "Nuns Fret Not at Their Convent's Narrow Room," published in 1807:

Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room;
And hermits are contented with their cells;
And students with their pensive citadels;
Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom,
Sit blithe and happy; bees that soar for bloom,
High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells,
Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells:
In truth the prison, into which we doom
Ourselves, no prison is: and hence for me,
In sundry moods, 'twas pastime to be bound
Within the Sonnet's scanty plot of ground;
Pleased if some Souls (for such there needs must be)
Who have felt the weight of too much liberty,
Should find brief solace there, as I have found.

Rhyme scheme: abba abba cddccd

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