The Sonnets CL - O! from what power hast thou this powerful might

O! from what power hast thou this powerful might,
With insufficiency my heart to sway?
To make me give the lie to my true sight,
And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds
There is such strength and warrantise of skill,
That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,
The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
O! though I love what others do abhor,
With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:
If thy unworthiness raisd love in me,
More worthy I to be belovd of thee.

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare was an English playwright, poet, and actor, regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's greatest dramatist. Known as the 'Bard of Avon,' his extant works include approximately 39 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and a few other verses. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than those of any other playwright.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CVIII - Whats in the brain, that ink may character

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets CXLIII - Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets XXXVII - As a decrepit father takes delight

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets XC - Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Sonnets LXXX - O! how I faint when I of you do write

O! how I faint when I of you do write,
Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,
And in the praise thereof spends all his might,
To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame!
But since your worth, wide as the ocean is,
The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
My saucy bark, inferior far to his,
On your broad main doth wilfully appear.
Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,
Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;
Or, being wrackd, I am a worthless boat,
He of tall building, and of goodly pride:
Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
The worst was this, my love was my decay.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets X - For shame! deny that thou bearst love to any

For shame! deny that thou bearst love to any,
Who for thy self art so unprovident.
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art belovd of many,
But that thou none lovst is most evident:
For thou art so possessd with murderous hate,
That gainst thy self thou stickst not to conspire,
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
O! change thy thought, that I may change my mind:
Shall hate be fairer lodgd than gentle love?
Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind,
Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove:
Make thee another self for love of me,
That beauty still may live in thine or thee.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CXXXI - Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art

Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,
As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;
For well thou knowst to my dear doting heart
Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold,
Thy face hath not the power to make love groan;
To say they err I dare not be so bold,
Although I swear it to myself alone.
And to be sure that is not false I swear,
A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face,
One on anothers neck, do witness bear
Thy black is fairest in my judgments place.
In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,
And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CXXXIX - O! call not me to justify the wrong

O! call not me to justify the wrong
That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue:
Use power with power, and slay me not by art,
Tell me thou lovst elsewhere; but in my sight,
Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside:
What needst thou wound with cunning, when thy might
Is more than my oerpressd defence can bide?
Let me excuse thee: ah! my love well knows
Her pretty looks have been mine enemies;
And therefore from my face she turns my foes,
That they elsewhere might dart their injuries:
Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,
Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CXLIX - Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not

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
Am of my self, all tyrant, for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend,
On whom frownst thou that I do fawn upon,
Nay, if thou lourst on me, do I not spend
Revenge upon myself with present moan?
What merit do I in my self respect,
That 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 lovst, and I am blind.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CXLVIII - O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head

O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight;
Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Loves eye is not so true as all mens: no,
How can it? O! how can Loves eye be true,
That is so vexed with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not, till heaven clears.
O cunning Love! with tears thou keepst me blind,
Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.

William Shakespeare