All Poems

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Shakespeare's Sonnets: From fairest creatures we desire increase

© William Shakespeare

From fairest creatures we desire increaseThat thereby beauty's rose might never die,But as the riper should by time decease,His tender heir might bear his memory:But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,Making a famine where abundance lies,Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,And only herald to the gaudy spring,Within thine own bud buriest thy content,And tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding: Pity the world, or else this glutton be, To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee

Shakespeare's Sonnets: For shame deny that thou bear'st love to any

© William Shakespeare

For shame deny that thou bear'st love to any,Who for thy self art so unprovident

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing

© William Shakespeare

Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing,And like enough thou know'st thy estimate

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Devouring time, blunt thou the lion's paws

© William Shakespeare

Devouring time, blunt thou the lion's pawsAnd make the earth devour her own sweet brood,Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jawsAnd burn the long-liv'd phoenix in her blood,Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st,And do what e'er thou wilt, swift-footed time,To the wide world and all her fading sweets:But I forbid thee one most heinous crime,O carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen,Him in thy course untainted do allowFor beauty's pattern to succeeding men

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep,

© William Shakespeare

Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep,A maid of Diane's this advantage found,And his love-kindling fire did quickly steepIn a cold valley-fountain of that ground,Which borrow'd from this holy fire of loveA dateless lively heat still to endure,And grew a seething bath which yet men proveAgainst strange maladies a sov'reign cure

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not

© William Shakespeare

Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee notWhen I against my self with thee partake?Do I not think on thee when I forgotAm of my self, all tyrant for thy sake?Who hateth thee that I do call my friend,On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon,Nay if thou lour'st on me do I not spendRevenge upon my self with present moan?What merit do I in my self respectThat is so proud thy service to despise,When all my best doth worship thy defect,Commanded by the motion of thine eyes? But love, hate on, for now I know thy mind; Those that can see thou lov'st, and I am blind

Shakespeare's Sonnets: But wherefore do not you a mightier way

© William Shakespeare

But wherefore do not you a mightier wayMake war upon this bloody tyrant timeAnd fortify your self in your decayWith means more blessèd than my barren rhyme?Now stand you on the top of happy hours,And many maiden gardens yet unset,With virtuous wish would bear your living flow'rs,Much liker than your painted counterfeit:So should the lines of life that life repairWhich this (time's pencil or my pupil pen)Neither in inward worth nor outward fairCan make you live your self in eyes of men; To give away your self keeps your self still, And you must live drawn by your own sweet skill

Shakespeare's Sonnets: But do thy worst to steal thy self away

© William Shakespeare

But do thy worst to steal thy self away,For term of life thou art assurèd mine,And life no longer than thy love will stay,For it depends upon that love of thine

Shakespeare's Sonnets: But be contented when that fell arrest

© William Shakespeare

But be contented when that fell arrestWithout all bail shall carry me away

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took

© William Shakespeare

Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,And each doth good turns now unto the other

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan

© William Shakespeare

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groanFor that deep wound it gives my friend and me!Is 't not enough to torture me aloneBut slave to slav'ry my sweet'st friend must be?Me from my self thy cruel eye hath taken,And my next self thou harder hast engrossed

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Being your slave, what should I do but tend

© William Shakespeare

Being your slave, what should I do but tendUpon the hours and times of your desire?I have no precious time at all to spend,Nor services to do till you require

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press

© William Shakespeare

Be wise as thou art cruel, do not pressMy tongue-tied patience with too much disdainLest sorrow lend me words and words expressThe manner of my pity-wanting pain

Shakespeare's Sonnets: As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st

© William Shakespeare

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'stIn one of thine, from that which thou depart'st,And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow'stThou may'st call thine, when thou from youth convert'st;Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,Without this, folly, age, and cold decay;If all were minded so, the times should cease,And threescore year would make the world away:Let those whom nature hath not made for store,Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish;Look whom she best endow'd, she gave the more,Which bount'ous gift thou should'st in bounty cherish

Shakespeare's Sonnets: As an unperfect actor on the stage

As an unperfect actor on the stage,Who with his fear is put besides his part,Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart,So I for fear of trust forget to sayThe perfect ceremony of love's right,And in mine own love's strength seem to decay,O'er-charg'd with burthen of mine own love's might:O let my books be then the eloquenceAnd dumb presagers of my speaking breast,Who plead for love and look for recompenceMore than that tongue that more hath more express't

Shakespeare's Sonnets: As a decrepit father takes delight

As a decrepit father takes delightTo see his active child do deeds of youthSo I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite,Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Alas 'tis true, I have gone here and there

Alas 'tis true, I have gone here and thereAnd made my self a motley to the view,Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,Made old offences of affections new

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Alack, what poverty my muse brings forth

Alack, what poverty my muse brings forth,That having such a scope to show her prideThe argument all bare is of more worthThan when it hath my added praise beside

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live

Ah, wherefore with infection should he liveAnd with his presence grace impietyThat sin by him advantage should achieveAnd lace it self with his society?Why should false painting imitate his cheekAnd steal dead seeing of his living hue?Why should poor beauty indirectly seekRoses of shadow since his rose is true?Why should he live, now nature bankrupt is,Begger'd of blood to blush through lively veins,For she hath no exchequer now but his,And proud of many, lives upon his gains? O him she stores, to show what wealth she had, In days long since, before these last so bad

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Against that time (if ever that time come)

Against that time (if ever that time come)When I shall see thee frown on my defects,When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,Call'd to that audit by advis'd respects,Against that time when thou shalt strangely passAnd scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye,When love converted from the thing it wasShall reasons find of settled gravity;Against that time do I ensconce me hereWithin the knowledge of mine own desert,And this my hand against my self uprearTo guard the lawful reasons on thy part; To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws, Since why to love I can allege no cause

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