Shakespeare’s Sonnets

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate; Rough winds do shake the darling buds o... Read more

Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fa... Read more

When I consider every thing that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment, That this huge stage presenteth nought b... Read more

Who will believe my verse in time to come, If it were fill’d with your most high deserts? Though yet heaven knows it is ... Read more

When I do count the clock that tells the time, And see the brave day sunk in hideous night; When I behold the violet pas... Read more

For shame deny that thou bear’st love to any, Who for thy self art so unprovident. Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved... Read more

But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time? And fortify yourself in your decay With ... Read more

As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growest In one of thine, from that which thou departest; And that fresh blood w... Read more

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, Feeding these rebel pow’rs that thee array, Why dost thou pine within and suff... Read more

Those lips that Love’s own hand did make Breathed forth the sound that said “I hate” To me that languished for her sake.... Read more

My glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date; But when in thee time’s furrows I be... Read more

As an unperfect actor on the stage, Who with his fear is put beside his part, Or some fierce thing replete with too much... Read more

O! that you were your self; but, love, you are No longer yours, than you your self here live: Against this coming end yo... Read more

Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck; And yet methinks I have astronomy, But not to tell of good or evil luck, Of p... Read more

So is it not with me as with that Muse, Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth us... Read more

A woman’s face with nature’s own hand painted, Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion; A woman’s gentle heart, but... Read more

Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood; Pluck the keen teeth from the... Read more

Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not, When I against myself with thee partake? Do I not think on thee, when I forgot... Read more

O me! What eyes hath love put in my head, Which have no correspondence with true sight! Or if they have, where is my jud... Read more

My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ... Read more