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nancylebov ([personal profile] nancylebov) wrote2004-07-28 06:48 pm
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Looking for Renaissance poetry

I can sell wall hanging of Renaissance poetry (I suppose prose would be ok, too) at a Renfaire. The problem is that I don't know much of anything about Renaissance poetry. Any recommendations for reasonably short pieces for a general audience?

At this point, all I've got in mind is "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here" (suitable for office doors) and the witches' recipe from Macbeth.

I was considering My Cat Jeoffry, but 1762 is probably too recent.
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[identity profile] sturgeonslawyer.livejournal.com 2004-07-28 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)
You can't go too far wrong with John Donne or Ben Jonson. Possibly Marlowe (something from "Hero and Leander" or the "Why this is Hell, nor am I out of it" speech from Dr Faustus?). Heck, delve into the old [b]Norton Anthology[/b] - it's arranged chronologically and if you don't like the specific examples you find, you'll get a great list of poets to work from.

[identity profile] enegim.livejournal.com 2004-07-28 05:09 pm (UTC)(link)
What about Donne's sonnets? Especially the erotic ones.

[identity profile] aliza250.livejournal.com 2004-07-28 05:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Shakespeare sonnets?

"To His Coy Mistress"

[identity profile] adrian-turtle.livejournal.com 2004-07-28 09:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Andrew Marvell wrote "To His Coy Mistress," which is not at all suitable for offices. (I'm not sure it's suitable for high school English classes these days, considering its vigorous opposition to high school propaganda telling students not to seduce one another.) But some people would probably appreciate having a sampler in their bedrooms. The full poem is rather long. http://www.bartleby.com/101/357.html
This version omits the more explicit lines about death, and some of the more explict youthful m/f bits, to make it more general. (I'm old enough that I'd feel weird about having the whole thing over my bed, though it speaks to me. And though people I don't trust don't generally *see* my bed, unless they're repairing the a/c.)

22 of Marvell's lines for an ambitious embroiderer:
HAD we but world enough, and time,
This coyness then, were no crime
We would sit down and think which way
To walk and pass our long love's day. ...
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze; ...
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart. ...
But at my back I always hear
Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near; ...
The grave 's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace. ...
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

[identity profile] nancylebov.livejournal.com 2004-07-29 06:00 am (UTC)(link)
Everybody, thanks for the advice. It's time to start with the research and choosing. More suggestions are still welcome.

Adrian's suggestion makes me realize that I'd be glad to do excerpts, but not bowdlerized versions. I suspect that in some cases, the difference is as much a matter of intent as what's included and excluded. I may be picky enough to credit excerpts as "from" whatever they're from instead of just giving the title.

(Anonymous) 2004-07-29 08:54 am (UTC)(link)
This could be too late, but I like the first stanza of this one by Robert Herrick (1591 - 1674):

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And, while ye may, go marry;
For, having lost but once your prime,
Ye may forever tarry.

(Anonymous) 2004-07-29 09:04 am (UTC)(link)
Milton is always good:

Here we may reign secure; and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition, though in hell:
Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.
Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 261.


Fairy elves,
Whose midnight revels by a forest side
Or fountain some belated peasant sees,
Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon
Sits arbitress.
Paradise Lost. Book i. Line 781.
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