Poems begining by S

/ page 11 of 287 /

Order by :

1
. . .
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
. . .
287

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

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

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

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

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

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,

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

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

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

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

1
. . .
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
. . .
287