Sonnet 38: How can my Muse want subject to invent by William Shakespeare

How can my Muse want subject to invent While thou dost breathe, that pour’st into my verse Thine own sweet argument, too excellent For every vulgar paper to rehearse? O, give thyself the thanks, if aught in me Worthy perusal stand against thy sight, For who’s so dumb that cannot write to thee, When thou […]

Sonnet 37: As a decrepit father takes delight by William Shakespeare

As a decrepit father takes delight To see his active child do deeds of youth, So I, made lame by Fortune’s dearest spite, Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth. For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit, Or any of these all, or all, or more, Entitled in thy parts, do crownèd […]

Sonnet 35: No more be grieved at that which thou hast done by William Shakespeare

No more be grieved at that which thou hast done. Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud, Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud. All men make faults, and even I in this, Authorizing thy trespass with compare, Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss, Excusing thy sins more […]

Sonnet 74: But be contented when that fell arrest by William Shakespeare

But be contented when that fell arrest Without all bail shall carry me away; My life hath in this line some interest, Which for memorial still with thee shall stay. When thou reviewest this, thou dost review The very part was consecrate to thee, The earth can have but earth, which is his due; My […]

Sonnet 6: Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface by William Shakespeare

Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled. Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place With beauty’s treasure ere it be self-killed. That use is not forbidden usury Which happies those that pay the willing loan; That’s for thyself to breed another thee, Or ten times happier, […]

Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live by William Shakespeare

Ah, wherefore with infection should he live, And with his presence grace impiety, That sin by him advantage should achieve, And lace it self with his society? Why should false painting imitate his cheek, And steal dead seeming of his living hue? Why should poor beauty indirectly seek Roses of shadow, since his rose is […]

Sonnet 66: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry by William Shakespeare

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry, As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honour shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disablèd And art made tongue-tied by authority, And […]

Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be, as I am now by William Shakespeare

Against my love shall be, as I am now, With Time’s injurious hand crushed and o’erworn; When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn Hath travelled on to age’s steepy night, And all those beauties whereof now he’s king Are vanishing, or vanished out of […]

Sonnet 60: Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore by William Shakespeare

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend. Nativity once in the main of light, Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned, Crookèd eclipses ‘gainst his glory fight, And Time that gave […]

Sonnet 5: Those hours, that with gentle work did frame by William Shakespeare

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell, Will play the tyrants to the very same And that unfair which fairly doth excel; For never-resting Time leads summer on To hideous winter and confounds him there, Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone, Beauty o’ersnowed […]

Sonnet 59: If there be nothing new, but that which is by William Shakespeare

If there be nothing new, but that which is Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled, Which, labouring for invention bear amis The second burthen of a former child! O, that record could with a backward look, Even of five hundred courses of the sun, Show me your image in some antique book, Since […]

Sonnet 56: Sweet love, renew thy force, be it not said by William Shakespeare

Sweet love, renew thy force! Be it not said Thy edge should blunter be than appetite, Which but today by feeding is allayed, Tomorrow sharpened in his former might. So, love, be thou, although today thou fill Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fulness, Tomorrow see again, and do not kill The spirit […]

Sonnet 55: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments by William Shakespeare

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme, But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword, nor war’s quick fire shall burn The living […]

Sonnet 94: They that have power to hurt and will do none by William Shakespeare

They that have power to hurt and will do none, That do not do the thing, they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmovèd, cold, and to temptation slow, They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces, And husband nature’s riches from expense; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others, […]

Sonnet 93: So shall I live, supposing thou art true by William Shakespeare

So shall I live, supposing thou art true, Like a deceivèd husband; so love’s face May still seem love to me, though altered new, Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place. For there can live no hatred in thine eye, Therefore in that I cannot know thy change. In many’s looks, the false […]

Sonnet 91: Some glory in their birth, some in their skill by William Shakespeare

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, Some in their wealth, some in their body’s force, Some in their garments though new-fangled ill, Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse; And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure, Wherein it finds a joy above the rest, But these particulars are not […]

Sonnet 8: Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? by William Shakespeare

Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy. Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly, Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy? If the true concord of well-tunèd sounds, By unions married, do offend thine ear, They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds […]