Amoretti

Amoretti
Titolo originale	Amoretti
Autore	Edmund Spenser
1ª ed. originale	1595
Genere	poesia
Lingua originale	inglese
	Modifica dati su Wikidata · Manuale

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Amoretti è una raccolta di sonetti scritti da Edmund Spenser, ispirati dalla tradizione delle poesie d'amor cortese, che illustrano il corso del corteggiamento del poeta ad Elizabeth Boyle, della quale loda la bellezza sia fisica, sia spirituale.

Storia

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Amoretti fu pubblicato nel 1595 a Londra da William Ponsonby. Il volume consiste in 89 sonetti, seguiti da due poemi brevi, Anacreontics ed Epithalamion, quest'ultimo una celebrazione pubblica in forma poetica del matrimonio.

Analisi dell'opera

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L'aspetto peculiare dei sonetti di Spenser è che l'adorazione del poeta per la sua amata non conduce a un epilogo di disperazione, come nella raccolta Astrophil e Stella di Philip Sidney, ma alla riconciliazione e al matrimonio. In generale i sonetti di Spenser non si basano sulla frustrazione amorosa ma sulla speranza anticipata dell'amore eterno.

Elenco dei sonetti

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Happy ye leaues when as those lilly hands (I)
Unquiet thought, whom at the first I bred (II)
The souerayne beauty which I doo admyre (III)
New yeare forth looking out of Ianus gate (IV)
Rudely thou wrongest my deare harts desire (V)
Be nought dismayd that her unmoued mind (VI)
Fayre eyes, the myrrour of my mazed hart (VII)
More then most faire, full of the liuing fire (VIII)
Long-while I sought to what I might compare (IX)
Unrighteous Lord of loue what law is this (X)
Dayly when I do seeke and sew for peace (XI)
One day I sought with her hart-thrilling eies (XII)
In that proud port, which her so goodly graceth (XIII)
Retourne agayne my forces late dismayd (XIV)
Ye tradefull Merchants that with weary toyle (XV)
One day as I unwarily did gaze (XVI)
The glorious portraict of that Angels face (XVII)
The rolling wheele that runneth often round (XVIII)
The merry Cuckow, messenger of Spring (XIX)
In vaine I seeke and sew to her for grace (XX)
Was it the worke of nature or of Art? (XXI)
This holy season fit to fast and pray (XXII)
Penelope for her Ulisses sake (XXIII)
When I behold that beauties wonderment (XXIV)
How long shall this lyke dying lyfe endure (XXV)
Sweet is the Rose, but growes upon a brere (XXVI)
Faire proud now tell me, why should faire be proud (XXVII)
The laurell leafe, which you this day doe weare (XXVIII)
See! how the stubborne damzell doth depraue (XXIX)
My loue is lyke to yse, and I to fyre (XXX)
Ah why hath nature to so hard a hart (XXXI)
The paynefull smith with force of feruent heat (XXXII)
Great wrong I doe, I can it not deny (XXXIII)
Lyke as a ship, that through the Ocean wyde (XXXIV)
My hungry eyes through greedy couetize (XXXV)
Tell me when shall these wearie woes haue end (XXXVI)
What guyle is this, that those her golden tresses (XXXVII)
Arion, when through tempests cruel wracke (XXXVIII)
Sweet smile, the daughter of the Queene of loue (XXXIX)
Mark when she smiles with amiable cheare (XL)
Is it her nature or is it her will (XLI)
The loue which me so cruelly tormenteth (XLII)
Shall I then silent be or shall I speake? (XLIII)
When those renoumed noble Peres of Greece (XLIV)
Leaue lady in your glasse of christall clene (XLV)
When my abodes prefixed time is spent (XLVI)
Trust not the treason of those smyling lookes (XLVII)
Innocent paper whom too cruell hand (XLVIII)
Fayre cruell, why are ye so fierce and cruell (XLIX)
Long languishing in double malady (L)
Doe I not see that fayrest ymages (LI)
So oft as homeward I from her depart (LII)
The Panther knowing that his spotted hyde (LIII)
Of this worlds Theatre in which we stay (LIV)
So oft as I her beauty doe behold (LV)
Fayre ye be sure, but cruell and unkind (LVI)
Sweet warriour when shall I haue peace with you? (LVII)
Weake is th' assurance that weake flesh reposeth (LVIII - By her that is most assured to her selfe)
Thrise happie she, that is so well assured (LIX)
They, that in course of heauenly spheares are skild (LX)
The glorious image of the makers beautie (LXI)
The weary yeare his race now hauing run (LXII)
After long stormes and tempests sad assay (LXIII)
Comming to kisse her lyps, (such grace I found) (LXIV)
The doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre loue, is vaine (LXV)
To all those happy blessings which ye haue (LXVI)
Lyke as a huntsman after weary chace (LXVII)
Most glorious Lord of lyfe that on this day (LXVIII)
The famous warriors of the anticke world, (LXIX)
Fresh spring the herald of loues mighty king (LXX)
I ioy to see how in your drawen work (LXXI)
Oft when my spirit doth spred her bolder winges (LXXII)
Being my selfe captyued here in care (LXXIII)
Most happy letters fram'd by skilfull trade (LXXIV)
One day I wrote her name upon the strand (LXXV)
Fayre bosome fraught with vertues richest tresure (LXXVI)
Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne (LXXVII)
Lackyng my loue I go from place to place (LXXVIII)
Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it (LXXIX)
After so long a race as I haue run (LXXX)
Fayre is my loue, when her fayre golden heares (LXXXI)
I of my life, full oft for louing you (LXXXII)
My hungry eyes, through greedy couetize (LXXXIII)
Let not one sparke of filthy lustfull fyre (LXXXIV)
The world that cannot deeme of worthy things (LXXXV)
Venomous toung tipt with vile adders sting (LXXXVI)
Since I did leaue the presence of my loue (LXXXVII)
Since I haue lackt the comfort of that light (LXXXVIII)
Lyke as the Culuer on the bared bough (LXXXIX)