All Poems
/ page 65 of 3210 /Shakespeare's Sonnets: In the old age black was not counted fair
© William Shakespeare
In the old age black was not counted fair,Or if it were it bore not beauty's name,But now is black, beauty's successive heir,And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame,For since each hand hath put on nature's pow'r,Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face,Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bow'r,But is profan'd, if not lives in disgrace
Shakespeare's Sonnets: In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn
© William Shakespeare
In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,But thou art twice forsworn to me love swearing,In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith tornIn vowing new hate after new love bearing
Shakespeare's Sonnets: In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes
© William Shakespeare
In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,For they in thee a thousand errors note,But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,Who in despite of view is pleas'd to dote
Shakespeare's Sonnets: If thy soul check thee that I come so near
© William Shakespeare
If thy soul check thee that I come so near,Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will;And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there
Shakespeare's Sonnets: If thou survive my well-contented day
© William Shakespeare
If thou survive my well-contented day,When that churl death my bones with dust shall cover,And shalt by fortune once more re-surveyThese poor rude lines of thy deceased lover,Compare them with the bett'ring of the time,And though they be out-stripp't by every pen,Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,Exceeded by the height of happier men
Shakespeare's Sonnets: If there be nothing new, but that which is
© William Shakespeare
If there be nothing new but that which is,Hath been before, how are our brains beguil'd,Which lab'ring for invention bear amissThe second burthen of a former child?Oh that record could with a back-ward look,Ev'n of five hundreth courses of the sun,Show me your image in some antique book,Since mind at first in character was done,That I might see what the old world could sayTo this composèd wonder of your frame,Whether we're mended, or whe'er better they,Or whether revolution be the same! Oh sure I am the wits of former days To subjects worse have giv'n admiring praise
Shakespeare's Sonnets: If the dull substance of my flesh were thought
© William Shakespeare
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,Injurious distance should not stop my way,For then, despite of space, I would be broughtFrom limits far remote where thou dost stay;No matter then, although my foot did standUpon the farthest earth remov'd from thee,For nimble thought can jump both sea and landAs soon as think the place where he would be
Shakespeare's Sonnets: If my dear love were but the child of state
© William Shakespeare
If my dear love were but the child of state,It might for fortune's bastard be unfather'dAs subject to time's love, or to time's hate,Weeds among weeds, or flow'rs with flow'rs gather'd
Shakespeare's Sonnets: I never saw that you did painting need
© William Shakespeare
I never saw that you did painting needAnd therefore to your fair no painting set
Shakespeare's Sonnets: I grant thou wert not married to my muse
© William Shakespeare
I grant thou wert not married to my museAnd therefore may'st without attaint o'er-lookThe dedicated words which writers useOf their fair subject, blessing every book
Shakespeare's Sonnets: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
© William Shakespeare
How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shameWhich like a canker in the fragrant roseDoth spot the beauty of thy budding name!Oh in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose!That tongue that tells the story of thy days(Making lascivious comments on thy sport)Cannot dispraise but in a kind of praise,Naming thy name, blesses an ill report
Shakespeare's Sonnets: How oft when thou, my music, music play'st
© William Shakespeare
How oft when thou, my music, music play'stUpon that blessèd wood whose motion soundsWith thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'stThe wiry concord that mine ear confounds,Do I envy those jacks that nimble leapTo kiss the tender inward of thy hand,Whil'st my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand
Shakespeare's Sonnets: How like a winter hath my absence been
© William Shakespeare
How like a winter hath my absence beenFrom thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen,What old December's bareness every where!And yet this time remov'd was summer's time,The teeming autumn big with rich increase,Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime,Like widowed wombs after their lord's decease;Yet this abundant issue seem'd to meBut hope of orphans, and un-fathered fruit,For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,And thou away, the very birds are mute, Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer, That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near
Frog, The
© Hilaire Belloc
No animal will more repay
A treatment kind and fair;
At least so lonely people say
Who keep a frog (and, by the way,
They are extremely rare).
Shakespeare's Sonnets: How heavy do I journey on the way
© William Shakespeare
How heavy do I journey on the way,When what I seek (my weary travel's end)Doth teach that ease and that repose to say"Thus far the miles are measur'd from thy friend
Shakespeare's Sonnets: How careful was I when I took my way
© William Shakespeare
How careful was I, when I took my way,Each trifle under truest bars to thrustThat to my use it might un-usèd stayFrom hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust;But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,Thou best of dearest, and mine only care,Art left the prey of every vulgar thief
Shakespeare's Sonnets: How can my muse want subject to invent
© William Shakespeare
How can my muse want subject to inventWhile thou dost breathe that pour'st into my verseThine own sweet argument, too excellentFor every vulgar paper to rehearse?Oh give thy self the thanks if aught in meWorthy perusal stand against thy sight,For who's so dumb that cannot write to theeWhen thou thy self dost give invention light?Be thou the tenth muse, ten times more in worthThan those old nine which rhymers invocate,And he that calls on thee, let him bring forthEternal numbers to out-live long date
Shakespeare's Sonnets: How can I then return in happy plight
© William Shakespeare
How can I then return in happy plightThat am debarr'd the benefit of rest?When day's oppression is not eas'd by night,But day by night and night by day oppress't
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Full many a glorious morning have I seen
© William Shakespeare
Full many a glorious morning have I seenFlatter the mountain tops with sov'reign eye,Kissing with golden face the meadows green;Gilding pale streams with heav'nly alchemy:Anon permit the basest clouds to rideWith ugly rack on his celestial face,And from the forlorn world his visage hideStealing unseen to west with this disgrace:Ev'n so my sun one early morn did shineWith all triumphant splendor on my brow,But out alack, he was but one hour mine,The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now
Shakespeare's Sonnets: From you have I been absent in the spring
© William Shakespeare
From you have I been absent in the spring,When proud pied April (dress't in all his trim)Hath put a spirit of youth in every thingThat heavy Saturn laugh't and leap't with him