Petrarchan love poetry in English Renaissance Literature today. Observe:
It was no dream, for I lay broad awaking.
But all is turned now through my gentleness
Into a bitter fashion of forsaking;
And I have leave to go of her goodness,
And she also to use newfangleness.
But since that I unkindly so am served,
How like you this? What hath she now deserved?
- Sir Thomas Wyatt, excerpt: "The lover showeth how he is forsaken of such as he sometime enjoyed"
I have been doodling and penning in the perfectly sized and thickly papered Cahier that my mother bought for me this summer at the SFMOMA. Here are a few pages (never, of course, drawn in class).