The Sonnets CXLI - In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes

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 pleased to dote.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongues tune delighted;
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unswayd the likeness of a man,
Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

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 LV - Not marble, nor the gilded monuments

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets LXXIX - Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets LXXV - So are you to my thoughts as food to life

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets CLIII - Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

English

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

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

The Sonnets CXXXVII - Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes

Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,
That they behold, and see not what they see?
They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
Yet what the best is take the worst to be.
If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,
Be anchord in the bay where all men ride,
Why of eyes falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?
Why should my heart think that a several plot,
Which my heart knows the wide worlds common place?
Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not,
To put fair truth upon so foul a face?
In things right true my heart and eyes have errd,
And to this false plague are they now transferrd.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets LXIX - Those parts of thee that the worlds eye doth view

Those parts of thee that the worlds eye doth view
Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend;
All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due,
Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
Thy outward thus with outward praise is crownd;
But those same tongues, that give thee so thine own,
In other accents do this praise confound
By seeing farther than the eye hath shown.
They look into the beauty of thy mind,
And that in guess they measure by thy deeds;
Then, churls, their thoughts, although their eyes were kind,
To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds:
But why thy odour matcheth not thy show,
The soil is this, that thou dost common grow.

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 CXLII - Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving:
O! but with mine compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving;
Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine,
That have profand their scarlet ornaments
And seald false bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robbd others beds revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lovst those
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee:
Root pity in thy heart, that, when it grows,
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
By self-example mayst thou be denied!

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets LXII - Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye

Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye
And all my soul, and all my every part;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded inward in my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
No shape so true, no truth of such account;
And for myself mine own worth do define,
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows me myself indeed
Beated and choppd with tanned antiquity,
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
Self so self-loving were iniquity.
Tis thee, myself, that for myself I praise,
Painting my age with beauty of thy days.

William Shakespeare