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I always did like sentimental shows.

I'd much prefer to say I don't know why,

But let's be honest that the whole world knows

I am a sucker for a teary eye

A soft half-turn, an introspective sigh

The moonlight on the water by the bay,

Beside the dark bank where the violets lie

Just visible in the reflected day

From which sad eyes must hopeless turn away

Only to find, in turning, that they see

The lover running up the shore to say

The time has come when all that's hoped shall be.

This weakness makes me argue in my mind

We shall be happy; I've already pined.

Sonnet Analysis: Shakespeare II

This sonnet I am almost scared of analyzing, because it is one of my favorites and one I have had memorized for almost too long. But it deserves to be looked at, and so, without further ado, Shakespeare's Sonnet 130:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.


Triumphs:
This is a classic inversion of the blazon, turning the already-standard tropes of love poetry around in order to (still) finish with a declaration of love. It's not quite "negging" in the modern sense, as the poet ends with an affirmation of his love's rareness; it is more of an attack on others' poetry disguised within a love poem. And at that, it is highly effective, a virtuoso example of taking a style and using it to mock itself. The comparisons are all there, just turned around, and the fact that the poet avoids too much repetition in how he introduces them shows a stylistic variability that pleases the ear. There is a good use of the octave-sestet division at "I love to hear her speak," which follows upon the strong negativity of the previous eight lines (and particularly the ending "reeks" of line 8) with a positive image, which is immediately turned to still support the dominant message through "yet well I know/That music hath a far more pleasing sound." The rest of the sestet is beautifully done as well, and, as is frequently the case with Shakespeare, the couplet is amazing. It is strongly separated from the rest of the poem, yet draws on the previous lines for its effect, summing their effect up for its own purpose. The language is also gorgeous: the consonance of "white" and "wires" in lines 3-4, the power of the broad vowel in "reeks" in line 8, the return of "my mistress" from line 1 into line 12, just in time for the concluding couplet.

Imperfections:
Tempted as I am to say "this is my favorite, it's a perfect poem," it isn't. "In some perfumes is there more delight" seems a bit forced; the "by heaven" in the penultimate line seems like a filler; the double "red" in line 2 and "wires" in line 4 seem somewhere between filler and forced. But each of these can also be justified, which is what makes it hard to talk of imperfections here.

Sonnet Analysis: Spenser II

Today I have decided to look at another classic sonnet and see what makes it tick. This is from Edmund Spenser's Amoretti:

Fair is my love, when her fair golden hairs

With the loose wind ye waving chance to mark:

Fair, when the rose in her red cheeks appears,

Or in her eyes the fire of love does spark:

Fair, when her breast, like a rich laden bark

With precious merchandise she forth doth lay:

Fair, when that cloud of pride, which oft doth dark

Her goodly light, with smiles she drives away

But fairest she, when so she doth display

The gate with pearls and rubies richly dight,

Through which her words so wise do make their way,

To bear the message of her gentle sprite.

The rest be works of nature's wonderment,

But this the work of heart's astonishment.

Triumphs:

The anaphora is strong in this one. The repeated use of "fair" may start off as annoying to some readers, but it is powerful enough to lull that critical part of the mind and become instead simply a part of the structure, especially on repeated readings. It contributes to the sonnet's octave-sestet division, as the change from "Fair" to "But fairest" signals the poet's turn from contemplating multiple parts of his mistress in sequence to exploring one aspect in more depth. Spenser's distinctive rhyme scheme (ababbcbccdcdee) is in full flower here, and with the partial exception of "dight" (slightly archaic even in his own time), the words are common enough that they pass unnoticed except as a pleasant rhythm, which is, in my opinion, how that rhyme scheme should sound at its best, avoiding the cloying over-rhyme-y feeling it can sometimes fall into. The sudden change from one and two syllable words to the "wonderment" and "astonishment" of the final couplet is powerful as well, strengthening the importance of those two words in the imagination. This compensates for the weakness of the actual rhyme (using the -ment suffix as the only rhyming element in a multisyllabic word). 

Imperfections:

As just mentioned, the last rhyme is weak in itself; like using a rhyme on -ly, a rhyme on -ment is strongest when the penultimate syllable would be a rhyme without the suffix. This is worse in the case of -ment because it is a less common sound and therefore draws attention to itself, whereas -ly is common enough that it can pass without inspection in most cases. This is definitely a sonnet that wants to be read repeatedly, so that the awkwardness of that rhyme, the initial resistance that can be posed by such extended anaphora, and the weakness of "dight" can all recede and the poem's strong concept and rhythm can rise to the fore. It also suffers from feeling trite in a modern context--although the existence of Shakespeare's Sonnet 130 should remind us that this sort of sentiment quickly became trite in the early modern period too--and  from using metaphors that are less recognizable to modern ears (pearls and rubies for the teeth and lips). The use of "fair" outside the anaphora may also be criticized, since it adds to the potential exhaustion of that term without contributing directly to the rhetorical effect.

Autumn

The wind picks up outside.

I do not care about

The people, but the dried

Leaves blow up and out

Reminding me of fall

Which comes too quickly.

If I could forestall

The wind, I would. But I

Am not safe here. Although

The wind will touch me not

(Through walls it cannot blow)

I still feel the leaves' rot

As time sweeps on.

They have all gone.

Hideyhole

The city hustles on outside my walls
And seems to make a decent day of it.
I sometimes hear its muffled, trilling calls
But still in here I choose to stay and sit
Writing to you, imagining your face
Not being altogether like a monk
But still somewhat inclined to keep in place
In meditation deep so often sunk.
I think of you, and how it would be were
You by my side, and we could go together
Out to the world (which I would much prefer
No matter what the bustle or the weather)
But since you are not there, I choose to be
Sometimes (not always) secreted with me.