The Sonnets CXXX - My mistress eyes are nothing like the sun

My mistress eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damaskd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.

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

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

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

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets XLIII - When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets CXII - Your love and pity doth the impression fill

William Shakespeare, Simple Poetry

English

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The Sonnets XX - A womans face with natures own hand painted

A womans face with natures own hand painted,
Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion;
A womans gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false womens fashion:
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals mens eyes and womens souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created;
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she prickd thee out for womens pleasure,
Mine be thy love and thy loves use their treasure.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets XXI - So is it not with me as with that Muse

So is it not with me as with that Muse,
Stirrd by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
Making a couplement of proud compare,
With sun and moon, with earth and seas rich gems,
With Aprils first-born flowers, and all things rare,
That heavens air in this huge rondure hems.
O! let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, my love is as fair
As any mothers child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fixd in heavens air:
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.

William Shakespeare

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

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 CII - My love is strengthend, though more weak in seeming

My love is strengthend, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show appear;
That love is merchandizd, whose rich esteeming,
The owners tongue doth publish every where.
Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
When I was wont to greet it with my lays;
As Philomel in summers front doth sing,
And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:
Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough,
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
Therefore like her, I sometime hold my tongue:
Because I would not dull you with my song.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CXXXII - Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me

Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,
Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,
Have put on black and loving mourners be,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
And truly not the morning sun of heaven
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
Nor that full star that ushers in the even,
Doth half that glory to the sober west,
As those two mourning eyes become thy face:
O! let it then as well beseem thy heart
To mourn for me since mourning doth thee grace,
And suit thy pity like in every part.
Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
And all they foul that thy complexion lack.

William Shakespeare

The Sonnets CXXX - My mistress eyes are nothing like the sun

Suggested Poems

The Sonnets CXXX - My mistress eyes are nothing like the sun