INSTITUT HISTORIADOR CHABÀS
POEMS OF THE AGE OF SHAKESPEARE A Literary Gathering
THE AGE OF SHAKESPEARE The great age of English poetry opened with the publication of Spenser's Shepheard's Calendar, in 1579, and closed with the printing of Milton's Samson Agonistes, in 1671. Within this period of little less than a century English thought passed through many changes, and there were several successive phases of style in our imaginative literature. (excerpt from www.online-literature.com)
For this literary gathering with our Batxillerat students, we chose the following authors:
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Edmund Spenser (1552-1599)
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William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
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Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672)
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POEMS OF THE AGE OF SHAKESPEARE A Literary Gathering POEMAS DEL TIEMPO DE SHAKESPEARE Una tertulia dialógica POEMES DEL TEMPS DE SHAKESPEARE Una tertúlia dialògica
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) SONNET I From fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty's rose might never die, But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir might bear his memory: But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament And only herald to the gaudy spring, Within thine own bud buriest thy content And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding. Pity the world, or else this glutton be, To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.
Edmund Spenser (1552-1599) (from the Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto I) XLI And more, to lulle him in his slumber soft, A trickling streame from high rocke tumbling downe And ever-drizling raine upon the loft, Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne: No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes, As still are wont t'annoy the walled towne, Might there be heard: but carelesse Quiet lyes, Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enemyes.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmVV3WD69lc
SONNET XXX When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe, And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight: Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restor'd and sorrows end.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxVKWKWYK0k
POETRY FOUNDATION: Edmund Spenser (http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/edmund-spenser)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agANyjCgm4E
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SONNET XCVII How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December's bareness every where! And yet this time remov'd was summer's time, The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, Like widow'd wombs after their lord's decease: Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit; For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And, thou away, the very birds are mute; Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
SONNET XXXIII Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace: Even so my sun one early morn did shine With all triumphant splendor on my brow; But out! alack! he was but one hour mine, The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now. Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_L2_pz9tw1o https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTZvy6-IqhA SONNET CXLIV SONNET LXIV Two loves I have of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still; The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill. To win me soon to hell, my female evil Tempteth my better angel from my side, And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, Wooing his purity with her foul pride. And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend Suspect I may, but not directly tell; But being both from me, both to each friend, I guess one angel in another's hell: Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt, Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defac'd The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age; When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed And brass eternal, slave to mortal rage; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the wat'ry main, Increasing store with loss, and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay; Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate -- That Time will come and take my love away. This thought is as a death, which cannot choose But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gS8WY0HTS14
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9OUfmlH61I
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Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672) If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee; If ever wife was happy in a man, Compare with me ye women if you can. I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold, Or all the riches that the East doth hold. My love is such that rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee give recompense. Thy love is such I can no way repay; The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. Then while we live, in love let’s so persever, That when we live no more we may live ever. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbQRMbJmx5g
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