Famous Italian Sonnet Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Italian Sonnet poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous italian sonnet poems. These examples illustrate what a famous italian sonnet poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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Sonnet XXVIII

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET XXVIII. Solo e pensoso i più deserti campi. HE SEEKS SOLITUDE, BUT LOVE FOLLOWS HIM EVERYWHERE.  Alone, and lost in thought, the desert gladeMeasuring 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...Read more of this...

Sonnet 23 - Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
 Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead,
Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine?
And would the sun for thee more coldly shine
Because of grave-damps falling round my head?
I marvelled, my Beloved, when I read
Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine—
But . . . so much to thee? Can I pour thy wine
While my hands tremble...Read more of this...

To The Nightingale

by John Milton
 O Nightingale! that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still,
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill,
While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day,
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill,
Portend success in love; O, if Jove's will
Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay,
Now...Read more of this...

Sonnet CCI

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET CCI. Real natura, angelico intelletto. ON THE KISS OF HONOUR GIVEN BY CHARLES OF LUXEMBURG TO LAURA AT A BANQUET.  A kingly nature, an angelic mind,A spotless soul, prompt aspect and keen eye,Quick penetration, contemplation highAnd truly worthy of the breast which shrined:In bright assembly lovely ladies join'dTo grace...Read more of this...

Sonnet CXXXII

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET CXXXII. Come 'l candido piè per l' erba fresca. HER WALK, LOOKS, WORDS, AND AIR.  As o'er the fresh grass her fair form its sweetAnd graceful passage makes at evening hours,Seems as around the newly-wakening flowersFound virtue issue from her delicate feet.Love, which in true hearts only has his seat,Read more of this...

Boston

by Edwin Arlington Robinson
 My northern pines are good enough for me, 
But there’s a town my memory uprears— 
A town that always like a friend appears, 
And always in the sunrise by the sea. 
And over it, somehow, there seems to be
A downward flash of something new and fierce, 
That ever strives to clear, but never clears 
The dimness of a charmed...Read more of this...

In White: Frosts Early Version Of Design

by Robert Frost
 A dented spider like a snow drop white
On a white Heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of lifeless satin cloth -
Saw ever curious eye so strange a sight? -
Portent in little, assorted death and blight
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth? -
The beady spider, the flower like a froth,
And the moth carried like a paper kite.

What had...Read more of this...

To Mr. Cyriack Skinner Upon His Blindness

by John Milton
 Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear
To outward view, of blemish or of spot;
Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot,
Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear
Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year,
Or man or woman. Yet I argue not
Against heavns hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear vp...Read more of this...

On the Death of Robert Browning

by Algernon Charles Swinburne
 He held no dream worth waking; so he said,
He who stands now on death's triumphal steep,
Awakened out of life wherein we sleep
And dream of what he knows and sees, being dead.
But never death for him was dark or dread;
"Look forth," he bade the soul, and fear not. Weep,
All ye that trust not in his truth, and keep
Vain memory's vision...Read more of this...

Sonnet III

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET III. Era 'l giorno ch' al sol si scoloraro. HE BLAMES LOVE FOR WOUNDING HIM ON A HOLY DAY (GOOD FRIDAY).  'Twas on the morn, when heaven its blessed rayIn pity to its suffering master veil'd,First did I, Lady, to your beauty yield,Of your victorious eyes th' unguarded prey.Ah! little...Read more of this...

The Altar

by Edwin Arlington Robinson
 Alone, remote, nor witting where I went,
I found an altar builded in a dream— 
A fiery place, whereof there was a gleam 
So swift, so searching, and so eloquent 
Of upward promise, that love’s murmur, blent
With sorrow’s warning, gave but a supreme 
Unending impulse to that human stream 
Whose flood was all for the flame’s fury bent. 

Alas! I...Read more of this...

Sonnet VIII

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET VIII. Poichè la vista angelica serena. WITH HER, HIS ONLY SOLACE, IS TAKEN AWAY ALL HIS DESIRE OF LIFE.  Since her calm angel face, long beauty's fane,My beggar'd soul by this brief parting throwsIn darkest horrors and in deepest woes,I seek by uttering to allay my pain.Certes, just sorrow leads...Read more of this...

The Living Flame

by Charles Baudelaire
 THEY pass before me, these Eyes full of light, 
Eyes made magnetic by some angel wise; 
The holy brothers pass before my sight, 
And cast their diamond fires in my dim eyes. 

They keep me from all sin and error grave, 
They set me in the path whence Beauty came; 
They are my servants, and I am their slave,...Read more of this...

The Maiden Speaks

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 How grave thou loookest, loved one! wherefore so?

Thy marble image seems a type of thee;

Like it, no sign of life thou giv'st to me;
Compared with thee, the stone appears to glow.

Behind his shield in ambush lurks the foe,

The friend's brow all-unruffled we should see.

I seek thee, but thou seek'st away to flee;
Fix'd as this sculptured figure, learn to grow!

Tell...Read more of this...

Sonnet VI

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET VI. Sì traviato è 'l folle mio desio. OF HIS FOOLISH PASSION FOR LAURA.  So wayward now my will, and so unwise,To follow her who turns from me in flight,And, from love's fetters free herself and light,Before my slow and shackled motion flies,[Pg 6]That less it lists,...Read more of this...

Mount Houvenkopf

by Joyce Kilmer
 Serene he stands, with mist serenely crowned,
And draws a cloak of trees about his breast.
The thunder roars but cannot break his rest
And from his rugged face the tempests bound.
He does not heed the angry lightning's wound,
The raging blizzard is his harmless guest,
And human life is but a passing jest
To him who sees Time spin the years around.
But fragile souls,...Read more of this...

Sonnet LXXXVI

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET LXXXVI. I' vo piangendo i miei passati tempi. HE HUMBLY CONFESSES THE ERRORS OF HIS PAST LIFE, AND PRAYS FOR DIVINE GRACE.  Weeping, I still revolve the seasons flownIn vain idolatry of mortal things;Not soaring heavenward; though my soul had wings[Pg 315]Which might, perchance, a glorious flight have...Read more of this...

Sonnet LXXXI

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET LXXXI. Cesare, poi che 'l traditor d' Egitto. THE COUNTENANCE DOES NOT ALWAYS TRULY INDICATE THE HEART.  When Egypt's traitor Pompey's honour'd headTo Cæsar sent; then, records so relate,To shroud a gladness manifestly great,Some feigned tears the specious monarch shed:And, when misfortune her dark mantle spreadO'er Hannibal, and his...Read more of this...

The Doubters And The Lovers

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 THE DOUBTERS.

YE love, and sonnets write! Fate's strange behest!

The heart, its hidden meaning to declare,

Must seek for rhymes, uniting pair with pair:
Learn, children, that the will is weak, at best.

Scarcely with freedom the o'erflowing breast

As yet can speak, and well may it beware;

Tempestuous passions sweep each chord that's there,
Then once more sink to night and gentle rest.

Why vex yourselves...Read more of this...

Written On A Blank Space At The End Of Chaucers Tale Of The Flowre And The Lefe

by John Keats
 This pleasant tale is like a little copse:
The honied lines so freshly interlace,
To keep the reader in so sweet a place,
So that he here and there full-hearted stops;
And oftentimes he feels the dewy drops
Come cool and suddenly against his face,
And, by the wandering melody, may trace
Which way the tender-legged linnet hops.
Oh! what a power has white Simplicity!
What mighty power...Read more of this...

Leisure

by Amy Lowell
 Leisure, thou goddess of a bygone age,
When hours were long and days sufficed to hold
Wide-eyed delights and pleasures uncontrolled
By shortening moments, when no gaunt presage
Of undone duties, modern heritage,
Haunted our happy minds; must thou withhold
Thy presence from this over-busy world,
And bearing silence with thee disengage
Our twined fortunes? Deeps of unhewn woods
Alone can cherish thee, alone possess
Thy quiet, teeming vigor....Read more of this...

Sonnet XXIX: Like Some Weak Lords

by Sir Philip Sidney
 Like some weak lords, neighbor'd by mighty kings, 
To keep themselves and their chief cities free, 
Do easily yield, that all their coasts may be 
Ready to store their camps of needful things: 

So Stella's heart finding what power Love brings, 
To keep itself in life and liberty, 
Doth willing grant, that in the frontiers he 
Use all to...Read more of this...

Sonnet L

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET L. Al cader d' una pianta che si svelse. UNDER THE ALLEGORY OF A LAUREL HE AGAIN DEPLORES HER DEATH.  As a fair plant, uprooted by oft blowsOf trenchant spade, or which the blast upheaves,Scatters on earth its green and lofty leaves,And its bare roots to the broad sunlight shows;Love...Read more of this...

Ozymandias

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the...Read more of this...

Sonnet CCV

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET CCV. Fresco ambroso fiorito e verde colle. HE CONGRATULATES HIS HEART ON ITS REMAINING WITH HER.  O hill with green o'erspread, with groves o'erhung!Where musing now, now trilling her sweet lay,Most like what bards of heavenly spirits say,Sits she by fame through every region sung:My heart, which wisely unto her...Read more of this...

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