The Sonnets CXXI - Tis better to be vile than vile esteemd

Tis better to be vile than vile esteemd,
When not to be receives reproach of being;
And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemd
Not by our feeling, but by others seeing:
For why should others false adulterate eyes
Give salutation to my sportive blood?
Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,
Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
No, I am that I am, and they that level
At my abuses reckon up their own:
I may be straight though they themselves be bevel;
By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown;
Unless this general evil they maintain,
All men are bad and in their badness reign.

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 XXXVII - As a decrepit father takes delight

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets CXLVII - My love is as a fever longing still

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets CVI - When in the chronicle of wasted time

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

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

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 LXX - That thou art blamd shall not be thy defect

That thou art blamd shall not be thy defect,
For slanders mark was ever yet the fair;
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heavens sweetest air.
So thou be good, slander doth but approve
Thy worth the greater being wood of time;
For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
And thou presentst a pure unstained prime.
Thou hast passed by the ambush of young days
Either not assaild, or victor being chargd;
Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise,
To tie up envy, evermore enlargd,
If some suspect of ill maskd not thy show,
Then thou alone kingdoms of hearts shouldst owe.

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 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 CXII - Your love and pity doth the impression fill

Your love and pity doth the impression fill,
Which vulgar scandal stampd upon my brow;
For what care I who calls me well or ill,
So you oer-green my bad, my good allow?
You are my all-the-world, and I must strive
To know my shames and praises from your tongue;
None else to me, nor I to none alive,
That my steeld sense or changes right or wrong.
In so profound abysm I throw all care
Of others voices, that my adders sense
To critic and to flatterer stopped are.
Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:
You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
That all the world besides methinks are dead.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets LXXXVIII - When thou shalt be disposd to set me light

When thou shalt be disposd to set me light,
And place my merit in the eye of scorn,
Upon thy side, against myself Ill fight,
And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn.
With mine own weakness, being best acquainted,
Upon thy part I can set down a story
Of faults conceald, wherein I am attainted;
That thou in losing me shalt win much glory:
And I by this will be a gainer too;
For bending all my loving thoughts on thee,
The injuries that to myself I do,
Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me.
Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
That for thy right, myself will bear all wrong.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CXXIX - The expense of spirit in a waste of shame

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action: and till action, lust
Is perjurd, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
Enjoyd no sooner but despised straight;
Past reason hunted; and no sooner had,
Past reason hated, as a swallowd bait,
On purpose laid to make the taker mad:
Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest, to have extreme;
A bliss in proof, and provd, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposd; behind a dream.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CXXI - Tis better to be vile than vile esteemd

Suggested Poems

The Sonnets CXXI - Tis better to be vile than vile esteemd